Corr
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You can lead a fool to knowledge but you can't make him think.
Posts: 940 
Affiliation: Clan Vhett
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Post by Corr on May 4, 2013 12:22:57 GMT -8
Rules: Standard GBA
Equipment: Melee Weapons. No armour.
Location:Naboo: Great Grass Plains
You find yourselves in a vast field on the planet of Naboo, the site of countless battles due to it's open terrain and huge size. The wind is harsh and the grass blows back and forth, a storm is coming, a storm the likes of which Naboo hasn't seen in a millenium. 20 posts into the match the heavens open and spew forth it's life giving substance in a torrential downpour, instantly soaking the field.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 6, 2013 12:47:56 GMT -8
*The sky was swollen; pregnant with the storm that was about to break over these empty plains. Storm clouds, black and roiling, mustered on the horizon, and the knee-high grass whipped this way and that under a rapidly strengthening gale. It would not be long before this normally tranquil place was consumed with the fury of the storm, along with anyone else unlucky enough to be caught in it.*
*My mood reflected the encroaching storm: bitter, morose, with a churning maelstrom of anger just beneath the surface. Clad in ragged black robes that fluttered madly in the wind, wearing a rancor-hide gauntlet on each arm that housed pieces of my shattered quixoni crystal, I stood silently in the howling gale, amber eyes fixed firmly on the horizon.*
*Waiting.*
*I doubt my foe, whoever it is, will be long in coming. Surely, he is as eager to see this battle joined as I am. To test his power against the full brunt of another's? Ah, but for me there is no visceral pleasure to be had in the eminent struggle, nor glory. I simply wish to evaluate myself. This is a test; one that will tell me whether or not my power has grown since I last pitted myself against a worthy opponent. If it has, then I am in no danger from whoever comes marching through these plains to do battle. If I have not...well, I probably still am not in any danger.*
*I inhaled deeply and could taste the storm on the wind. Electric, powerful. Fury contained...for now. My right hand idly caresses the hilt of lightsaber, hanging in plain view on my right hip. It is the only weapon I've brought with me, the only one I'll need. Durasteel cuticle implants in the shape of half-inch claws cap each of the fingers on both my hands, but I doubt they will come into play. They never have before. Er, not during open battle, I mean. In interrogation situations they've served me quite well on numerous occasions.*
*Eyes half-closed, I opened myself to the dark side, to the ever-present anger threatening to consume me, to the furious onslaught of the storm, to the rage nature itself threatened to indulge.
*...and waited.*
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
Affiliation: Chaos
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Post by Lord Nexus on May 6, 2013 13:09:05 GMT -8
It was said among some wise men, that the fiercest of battles and the greatest of wars occurred when darkness clashed with darkness. This saying was ancient, yet proven time and time again in history, and today it was to be proved once more.
A challenge was given, one that was graciously accepted. It was the way of the Forsworn to challenge, to test- the sith believe themselves forged by fire, but the Forsworn believe themselves to be the flame.
And so the battle began, with the arrival of the challenged, a sith by the name of Ishmael, who awaited the test. He did not have to wait long. The challenger game from the west, under the guise of black robes. He walked, though if asked from where, or why, the man would not say. He drew closer to Ishmael, and as he did so, his darkness became more and more tangible.
A fire- chaotic and deadly, yet useful in the correct applications, that was what this man was, and his aura defined him. To a jedi, a chill would be felt, followed by a wave of nausea, then a blurry mind; yet to a sith, power could be felt, raw and untamed. This man was a walking nexus of the darkside, such was why he was granted his name.
He drew closer, close enough for Ishmael to note his features. The man was pale, tall and lean, standing at 6'2" with ice blue eyes and obsidian black hair, wearing a pair of black slacks, with matching black boots, and cloth hand wraps. He was a shade of darkness. The lower half of his face was covered by a bone mempo, which guarded his expressions, though his ice blue eyes conveyed the man's true expression. It was a sinister sort of joy that shone from the blue, the sort that could only be found in the eyes of a being that loved chaos.
He slowed his stride to an eventual stop, seven meters away from his opponent. He stood with his feet a shoulder length's apart, facing his opponent. It was now that Ishmael could see the lightsaber in his left hand, as well as a second hilt hanging from his left hip. Both hilts were longer than normal, however the length of the second hilt suggested that it was a double bladed weapon.
Angling the hilt away from him, the man's thumb slid over the pressure plate, igniting a blood red blade of heat and light with a snap hiss. It was a wordless challenge- for men like Ishmael, Nexus had no words, only actions.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 6, 2013 13:35:14 GMT -8
*There...he was approaching. The man who called me here, who sought to test my power. I could feel him getting closer, his presence so alike the storm raging above that at times it was difficult to discern between the two. Finally my amber eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring into an ice blue gaze that bespoke a true companionship with the dark side. This man was Chaos unbound. For a moment I just studied him, arms at my sides. His blade snapped to life and he still had not uttered a word. Good: there was nothing to be said. Lightning lashed the blackening sky, and, as if in answer to the man's silent challenge, an explosion of thunder shattered the earth.*
*After another moment of silent consideration both of my hands came up: the left pulling back the cowl of my robes, freeing my mane of black hair and baring my bloodless, harshly angular features; the right plucking my Makashi-hilt lightsaber from its place on my belt and thumbing the activation switch.*
-Snap/Hiss!-
*The crimson blade flared to life with a snarling, crackling hiss that was barely audible above the strengthening gale. My feet shifted, sliding through the grass and the dirt until they were a shoulder's width apart, with the right foot being forward by about six inches. My left shoulder I pulled back slightly; my hips I orient slightly to my opponent's right. I bring my right hand, bearing my saber, down to hover near my right hip. The crimson blade angles down and away from my leg, off to the right.*
*For now I forego saluting my opponent. I feel the gesture would be lost on him anyway, but that is not the reason I hesitate.*
*With a short, forceful exhalation of breath, I delved into the dark side, taking advantage of the violence already present in this place and my own barely contained anger to bend it to my will, to lash out at this man with a Force Grip, with which I intend to grab the top of this man's head, and twist. First to the left, and then to the right, in violent, jerking motions that I hope will tear ligaments, rip muscles, or- if I'm lucky- snap bones.*
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
Affiliation: Chaos
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Post by Lord Nexus on May 6, 2013 13:51:29 GMT -8
And so it began. The thunder clapped, the opponent's blade flashed into existence, and battle commenced. There was a moment of silence after the proclamation- a moment that Nexus did not allow to go unnoticed. Then came a ripple, which he felt as his opponent summoned the force to bend to his will.
Nexus did the same, tapping into their combined auras. Most would use this moment to prepare a defense mechanism, but the dark warrior believed that the best defense was a good offense. The offensive began just as Ishmael's will made the force extend in his direction. As the grip clasped his head and began turning, Nexus' right hand shot forward, releasing a torrent of kinetic energy. The force push was not extremely powerful, yet it was enough to potentially break Ishmael's concentration, and ideally cause him to stagger.
If success was granted in breaking concentration, Nexus would take the opportunity to press the attack. Bringing his left arm up and slightly outwards, he tucked his left elbow back, he brought the searing crimson blade up at level with his upper abdomen, poised forward like a lance, then he charged at his opponent, ready to strike at his opponent, or parry a potential strike if need be.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 6, 2013 14:36:35 GMT -8
*I felt my Grip connect, my savage will driving the force to destroy my opponent, and then a hammer of energy buffeted my scrawny frame, driving me backward several steps and causing my tendril of force energy to dissolve back into the stream of the dark side, my attack unsuccessful. Of course I should've expected a blunt, straightforward counter, but...I'd been distracted, focused solely on dealing damage. Such single-mindedness was folly, a mistake I'd not repeat again.*
*Ah, but my foe was charging me. It was time to cross blades, to feel the heat of a narrow miss and the crackling hiss of a successful parry. I felt a rush of vicious pleasure course through me as I reset my stance, leading with my right foot, my shoulders and hips oriented slightly the left. With quick, fluid motions I brought my saber up in a vertical position, emitter hovering near my forehead. I'd opted to meet his charge with the Makashi Salute. A demonstration of my respect, if not for him than for the ways of battle...and a warning.*
*My foe loomed ever closer, his saber ready to strike like some coiled serpent.*
*With a quick exhale I swept my left hand out to the side, poising it to be used as a counterbalance for future maneuvering, and with a deceptively quick motion I extended my right arm fully, blade snapping forward in a lightning-fast thrust to the center of my charging foe's sternum. I expect a block, a parry, a devastating counter from the man. I'm ready, and I'm eager. I'm up on the balls of my feet, entire body tense and ready to deal death.*
*And I'm still opening myself to the dark side. Its sinister touch is strong here, drawn as it was by the storm, and by the efforts of both myself and my opponent.*
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
Affiliation: Chaos
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Post by Lord Nexus on May 7, 2013 10:11:53 GMT -8
Once more into the fray...
The maelstrom of voices in Nexus's mind fell silent for a moment, as the powerful voice of Darth Sanctus spoke out from within. Darth Sanctus was a master of lightsaber combat, and preferred to combine forms, rather than sticking to one. This unorthodox combat method made him extremely deadly, and the voices respected that. After all, this was his element.
Nexus felt the power of the force, and natural strength, coursing through his veins as he charged towards Ishmael. There was a moment of brief respect as the man saluted- Nexus noted it but gave no response. Instead, as he closed, he focused on his next course of action, channeling the force deep within himself. Then it happened.
Ishmael's blade snapped outwards, seeking to carve a burning hole through the flesh of this new vessel. Some would shy away from the challenge, but not Nexus. He channeled the soul of Sanctus, using his memories, experiences and impulses to guide him. As he closed in, Nexus felt instinct taking over.
His blade remained deadly still until the end, then suddenly shifted with sudden purpose. Nexus brought out his left arm ever so slightly, slapping his saber against the middle of Ishmael's blade, pushing against it in a forceful parry to his left (Ishmael's right), attempting to guide the blades away from them. As he parried, he twisted slightly, bringing his right shoulder slightly forward, then pushed his right hand outwards towards Ishmael and unleashed arcs of lightning from his finger tips, hoping to catch the sith's unguarded torso.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jul 29, 2013 16:51:19 GMT -8
*The lich's amber gaze never wavered from his foe's icy stare as their saber blades clashed, tangling with a vicious snarl that rose above the noise of the storm. There was only a brief moment of contact before he- Ishmael- snapped his blade to the right, sending it dancing ahead of Nexus', and then rolled his wrist to send it into a fluid, corkscrewing arc: down, to the left- tracing a molten path in the grass between the two- and then up into the arm that Nexus was now extending, set to take his hand off at the wrist.*
*The sorcerer noted the gathering of energy around his foe's hand, and saw the tell-tale wisps of electricity beginning to form. A blast of lightning, then. No matter. If his attempt at a cho mok was successful, well, the attack would no longer be a concern, and he would have made a great stride toward victory. If it was not, the position of his saber would still allow him to defend against the brunt of the attack. Or so the Sith Lord assumed.*
*The rage of the storm was growing, and with it, the cold anger Ishmael harbored in his heart. The dark side swirled about the combatants, hateful and eager...feeding.*
*He let the snarling of saber blades and the fluid maneuvering of combat clear his mind and heart...and the tainted energy rushed in to fill the void.*
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
