Corr
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You can lead a fool to knowledge but you can't make him think.
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Post by Corr on May 14, 2015 13:14:34 GMT -8
Standard GBA Rules. Top Ten Force Powers. Light Armour Only. Weapons Described in First Post.
Korriban: Darth Vaders Tomb
The Tomb of Darth Vader was a burial place prepared in the Great Temple on the Sith world of Korriban to hold the remains of Darth Vader. It was never used for its original purpose as Anakin Skywalker renounced the dark side of the Force and the title of Darth Vader in the final moments of his life as he destroyed the Emperor to fulfill the ancient Jedi prophecy. Having died embracing the light side of the Force, his body became one with the Force, and his son Luke Skywalker cremated his empty armor on Endor a short time later.
A cavernous hall, roughly seventy by forty meters, with a raised dais at the far end upon which a massive sarcophagus sat, the hall was ancient in design. The dais was about ten meters across and five in width and height, with column supports at each corner. Behind the dais a pit disappears into the bowels of Korriban while at the front stone steps, clan in blood-red carpet, dropped back down to the floor. Sith hieroglyphs adorned the walls, their evil meaning lost to those without the ages old knowledge to divine them. To the untrained eyes they will captivate and entrance, causing vile thoughts to permeate the mind, drowning the looker in hate, sorrow and fear. A musky smell of stale dust invades the space and guttering torches, real flames burning on an inexhaustible source, flare and splutter along the walls. Shadows dance here and there, as if the spirits of ancient Sith still haunt the place, mourning the absence of their lost brother, furious that he should spurn them to return to the light.
Our opponents face each other from opposite sides of the coffin itself, both stood on the raised dais...
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Darth Andor
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Post by Darth Andor on May 19, 2015 4:24:14 GMT -8
The Darkside was strong here. The Sith Lord took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the dusty tomb. His senses were flooded with hate, sorrow and fear as he walked deeper and deeper into the Tomb of Dark. Unlike most people, Andor did not shy away from these feelings, but instead, he relished them. He welcomed them. He embraced them. The power that resonated in this very place was enough to make the hair on Andor's neck stand on end, and for goose-bumps to raise on his pale skin.*
*He wasn't sure why he was here. All he understood was that during a meditation session with his apprentices, he had had a vision gifted to him through the Darkside of the Force. It told him to make haste to Korriban as something was waiting. Power? Knowledge? What did the Force want to bestow on the Sith Lord and Grand Inquisitor of the Galactic Empire?*
*Andor's black cloak flapped lazily behind him as he rose upwards on the steps of the dias, his black eyes focused on the sarcophagus that lay before him. His footsteps echoed in the empty, cavernous hall as his came closer, step by step. Of course, Andor had not come unarmed, as he was unsure of the traps and tricks that implanted within the tomb of the long-lived Sith Lord. Or should Vader be considered a traitor, having abandoned his ways of the Sith in the last moments of his life? Anyways, Andor didn't know what to encounter so he had made a few precautions, having brought along with him his usual armament. Strapped to his two arms, hidden under the sleeves of his crimson tunic were his pair of lightsabers. Holstered to his right hip was his DC-15s blaster pistol and in a small pouch attached to his belt at the small of his back (concealed by his black cloak) was a thermal detonator. His left arm, from the elbow down, was a cortosis-lined mechanical arm, meeting and attaching to a lightsaber-resistant Neuro-Shock hand at the wrist, disguised amongst the layers of synth-flesh. Apart from that, the only other weapon Andor carried was the power of the Darkside of the Force, a weapon that was already swirling around him like his black cloak: reeking of cruelty, malice and the will to dominate all life.*
*His hand touched the top of the empty sarcophagus and Andor was immediately bombarded with the Darkside, feeling the energies sear through his veins, bringing visions of death and enslavement to his eyes. His muscles tensed, preparing to open it and find out what lay inside when suddenly....
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Miras
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Post by Miras on May 30, 2015 9:40:48 GMT -8
If there had ever been a singular moment that illustrated to Miras just how drastically his life had changed since Carida, it was this. Standing within the intended burial place of a Sith Lord he'd read about in the history books, his fingertips brushing across the glyphs carved into the walls, and wondering how Vader himself had felt inspecting this place- as he surely must have done at some point prior to his demise. Had the utter pointlessness of such empty ceremony felt as oppressive to him as it did to the Jedi turned assassin who would stand in his place decades later? Or had he been pleased by the spectacle, secure in the knowledge that when his reign ended his body would be treated with respect? Somehow such a hollow comfort seemed beneath a man like Vader. 'Or perhaps it is just beneath me, and so I continue drawing parallels that please me,' Miras thought, the ghost of a smile flashing across his pallid features.
Reluctantly the youth pulled his hand from the wall and turned back to the pit located behind the sarcophagus meant for Lord Vader. He edged closer, until the toes of his boots poked over the side, and leaned forward. Senses both organic and metaphysical strained, and yet he could sense only oblivion. It was as if existence ceased to be, and where reality terminated there was naught but a well of vile, putrid hate. Or was it fear? Despair? Jealousy? "The dark side made manifest?" he murmured, lips barely moving.
Ah, but what did it matter? What did any of it matter? Eschewing the philosophical bickering that both tormented and enraptured those sensitive to the force of every ideology did little good if he dwelt on it in such a fashion, no? Shrugging in a gesture of dismissal, the former Jedi turned on his heel, plucking a battered pack of cigarras from within his travel-stained cloak in the same motion.
It was just as well he'd chosen now to end his musings: from the opposite side of the dais, his target approached. Wrapped in the black wind of the dark side as intimately as if it were his lover's embrace, 'Darth Andor' came to Vader's sarcophagus with the boldness of an inheritor, a right-claimer, a successor. Was it confidence or arrogance? Did he seek Vader's power with a lack of reverence, or in spite of it? It mattered little, but Miras always found himself wondering such things about the Sith that he killed.
Moving more slowly, enjoying these last few moments of the hunt before the inevitable screaming climax was reached, the Corellian stuck one of the cigarras between his teeth and lit up, eyelids half closing with satisfaction as the first cloud of thick white smoke came puffing out through his nostrils. His dominant left hand dropped to brush across the hilt of his lightsaber, then the holster that housed his blaster pistol, and in the same manner of absentminded confirmation, his senses expanded to the force, testing its ebb and flow the way a swimmer will check the water's temperature before taking the plunge.
These things accomplished, Miras began his own ascent.
The creature that greeted Andor from across the sarcophagus was a child of twenty, a scrawny Corellian with black hair and overly large gray eyes. Swathed in the ragged remains of a Jedi cloak, and with his lightsaber clutched tightly in his left hand, Miras grinned at the Sith around the smoking cigarra clenched in his gleaming white teeth.
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Darth Andor
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Post by Darth Andor on May 30, 2015 11:32:33 GMT -8
....Suddenly he felt a disruption in the Force. Something was permeating it, contaminating the Darkness that filled the tomb. It was a small light, fighting against the overwhelming darkness. In turn, the Darkside threatened to swallow it, to extinguish it forever.
"Jedi." His voice was a mere whisper, cold as ice and as sharp as a dagger. But with the acoustics of the empty and large hall, the Sith Lord's voice echoed around them. The statement was derogatory, filled with rage and hate. Nothing was ever easy. Everywhere Andor went, there was always a Jedi waiting to stand against him in a foolish effort to prevent the growth of the Sith. But Andor didn't really care. They always ended up dead, falling victim to the Grand Inquisitor's crimson blade. This Jedi would be no different.*
*His eyes stared down the young man as he ascended the steps to meet the Sith Lord at the opposite end of the sarcophagus. Andor's hand retracted, and with a small swing of his shoulders, the black cloak fell to a crumpled mess on the dark, cold floor. He stood there, his crimson tunic illuminated from the low glow of the flickering torches that lined the walls, his hands relaxed at his side. He sported white hair, cut short, his skin was pale and stretched tight across his bones, his cheekbones threatening to break through. His lips were almost too thin, and were as red as his tunic. But his eyes shone abnormally bright. But in the instant his mind opened itself to the force, his electric blue eyes irises shimmered and in the blink of an eye turned as black as pitch, blending in with his pupils.*
*His right hand returned to the sarcophagus, touching it only with his pointer finger. Slowly, menacingly, he began to walk around the sarcophagus, his finger leaving a small trail in the thick dust resting on the empty tomb. He licked his lips as small shiver traveled down his spine in anticipation of the impending battle. Already, Andor could taste the Jedi's blood, and he craved it. His mouth broke into a smile, revealing his white teeth, sharp as fangs.*
*He stalked closer, a carnivore about to attack its prey.
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Miras
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Post by Miras on Jun 6, 2015 15:34:59 GMT -8
'Jedi...Jedi...Jedi...'
The Sith's accusation bounced around the tomb several times before trailing off, the disdainful venom fading into silence. Once more it was naught but the inscribed walls pressing in around the two men, and Miras' smile took on an almost apologetic tone as Andor began to drift around the sarcophagus. "Afraid not," he replied quietly. His gray eyes remained fixed upon the Sith Lord.
In the same heartbeat the forefinger of his left hand flicked against the inactive hilt of his lightsaber, and the force screamed forward in response. The assassin felt his body go rigid for the briefest of moments, his flesh and blood a mere conduit for the power that dwarfed him. Force Grip was a novice technique, a minor application of telekinesis he'd learned in his earliest days at the Temple, but in its application was the potential for devastating effectiveness.
For it was the top of Andor's cranium that the former Jedi sought to seize with the power of the force, and in the same instant he tugged at the threads of energy he had summoned, attempting to yank the Sith's head down violently enough to smash his face into the unyielding surface of what was to be Vader's coffin. It was a quick, brutal tactic, meant to injure and debilitate, and was perhaps a poignant illustration of his foe's error in identifying him.
The feeling of the energy coursing throufh his veins was enough to make his teeth clench in equal parts ecstacy and agony,but Miras forced himself to swipe a thumb across his saber's activation stud. As the emerald blade snarled to life, the crackling plasma casting a glow across the pair, the youth forced himself into motion, drifting to the right so as to circle around the sarcophagus and finish off the Sith Lord.
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Darth Andor
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Post by Darth Andor on Jun 8, 2015 20:25:29 GMT -8
Ok, so former Jedi.... Fault goes to the writer for misinterpreting the profile information.... Anyways.....*
*Andor had made it halfway across the coffin when Miras attacked. Andor had been prepping himself since the first moment the tension rose, feeling confident as the Darkside seared through his black heart, pumped through every vein of his body. He felt the air above his head tingle as Miras' briefly went stiff in concentration. His attack was unexpected and swift, its suddenness almost catching the Sith Lord off guard.*
*An invisible hand clasped itself on Andor's head and with a powerful force, threw it downwards, attempting to smash it against the hard lid of Vader's sarcophagus. Andor moved into action the instant his head was pulled downward and to his right. He went with the momentum as his entire right hand planted itself flat against the lid of the sarcophagus. His arm stiffened as his legs pumped upwards, carrying his body in a cartwheel above and across the golden casket, easily flowing with the downward motion of his head. At the precise moment Andor was completely upside down, his arms trembled as they fought against Miras' Force Grip, straining to keep his head (and now his entire body) from being pulled directly down and onto the lid. But he managed, and his feet landed firmly on the raised dias, on the opposite side of the golden sarcophagus as Miras.*
*The cartwheel had only taken a second to execute, and even though Andor was on the opposite side of the sarcophagus now, he had not negated his opponent's telekinetic hold. He didn't have time to stop and think. As his feet hit the ground, he pressed the offensive, hoping to break his opponent's concentration. His body was bent over at the waist, his black eyes staring at the lid of the sarcophagus as it rushed up to meet him. His hands still touched the lid of the sarcophagus, but now rested more on its edge, palms facing Miras. Andor felt power surge through his arms as he released a strong, two-handed Force Push.*
*The lid of the sarcophagus shot off like a bullet, aimed for Miras at waist-height at point blank range. The speed and power from Andor's Force Push, should the metal projectile hit, would be strong enough to break bones and to cause internal damage to areas that ended up directly in its path. A millisecond later, and Andor's face would have smashed into it. But now, he was pulled down into the now open coffin. His legs came off the ground as his body fell forward. The Sith Lord's arms protecting his head as he smashed against the bottom.*
*For that brief instant, as Darth Andor lay in the tomb of Darth Vader, the truth dawned upon him as a lightbulb would turn on with the flick of a switch.*
*The sarcophagus was empty.*
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Miras
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Post by Miras on Jun 18, 2015 14:02:09 GMT -8
It was in the same instant that Andor's hand found its purchase on the lid of the sarcophagus that Miras' lightsaber ignited, and as the Sith kicked his feet off the ground and began the task of bringing them up over his head, the assassin darted forward. His gray eyes flickered with the exertion of keeping his hold upon the force while moving, but his entire being hummed with the unrelenting need to extinguish another darkling, and everything but his opponent seemed to fall away.
'No quarter given.' The words flashed through Miras' mind unbidden, and they were gone before he had time to register the mantra from his vision. It didn't matter; the words were carved into his bones and branded upon his soul. The only way to break the tide of darkness was to cut away its corruption.
His blade thrummed loudly as his lunge forward was followed by a lightning-quick left-to-right slash meant to cleave through the Sith's arms at the elbows. Had he not been occupied keeping his hold upon the force he would have smiled at the thought of taking away the hands that had wrought such destruction.
As it were he simply hoped that his attack was enough to pin the Sith, and force a choice between losing his arms, or moving them and being smashed headlong into the coffin.
The stub of his cigarette ground and twisted between his clenched teeth.
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
