OOC:
Continued from “Rise of Sovereign” - GRP of the Old Board
19 Total Post Count.
Silas Karn: 10
Darth Tormentous: 9
The Rise of Sovereign
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Highblade
Registered Member
17 Dec 2016 13:25 #1
***Sector R-5, Korriban***
Fresh off the emotional trauma and deep seeded wounds inflicted upon the once proud Regent of the Galactic Empire had heeded a distant call. Whispers that seemed to speak to the noble's very soul had urged Silas to leave behind him all that was familiar. Though deep within the territory claimed by the Sith it was unlikely the Echani’s newly painted Defender would draw notice and less so that any battle group would be patrolling.
Silas’s obsidian black ship emerged from hyperspace and swiftly took an approach toward the red sands of Korriban. As the Defender made its descent Silas beheld the ruined landscape that once served as home to the illustrious tombs of perhaps the most famed Sith Lords in the history of that order. While he remained uncertain of what he was looking for or even why he had traveled to such a distant system Silas landed his ship a kilometer away from what had looked like wreckage.
In truth as the battlemaster set foot within the barren world the shattered remains of the vast port that had been razed by the empire and almost completely buried within the sands. ‘It seems you have finally arrived.’ The measure and tactful presence that had clung to Silas once more began to push the denounced lord. ‘Its’ former greatness has been all but erased; however, your arrival may signal its return.’ The specter paused a moment before adding, ‘As well as the end to the turmoil within you.’ Waiving of the looming shadow Silas marched off into the distance toward the ruins.
A standard hour passed as Silas reached the outcropping that marked the beginning of the port’s remnants. From that vantage point Silas noted yet another plot of ground similar to the ruins he had already found some distance away. Beyond the Echani’s superb sight lay a final stretch of rubble in perhaps the best condition of the three locations. It was there that the shattered tombs of the ancient Sith Lords lay. Unable to shake a feeling that he should keep moving Silas continued on for several hours beyond the port and the second site. Eventually the ruler of Thyrsus made his way beyond the secondary stretch of rubble and was greeted with the ancient resting ground of the Sith’s greatest. Though the hallmarks of a heavy orbital assault were no longer obvious the condition of the tombs spoke volumes.
***Force Power 4th Level – Feed on Darkside: 400 word requirement, Application Start***
No longer sensing the influence guiding him forward Silas sat down in a meditative pose. The long journey and intense inner turmoil inflicted upon the battlemaster weighed heavily on his mind. As he closed his eyes and drew within his senses the living tributaries of the Force that flowed from the valley. The intensity of the darkness that coursed out from the remnants of the Sith tombs threatened to overwhelm Silas.
The long cycles since he accepted the Force as a part of his self the temptation and desire to indulge his own darker nature had been an ever present conflict. No longer being duty bound to the Galactic Empire, and pained to his very core over the betrayal of his family, Silas called forth to the very source of the Dark Side energies. The sapphire hue of Silas’s eyes soon gave way to an eerie citrine glow. Silas’s breathing became heavy as he drowned his self in the darkness.
Though Silas had employed several techniques within the Force that drew their strength from powerful and often derided emotions there was always a line he did not cross. An offensive art such as Force Lightning could be adapted to less dangerous emotions to an adept than simple rage or hatred. The furthest Silas had allowed his self to tread was Sith Sorcery. Sorcery in itself was an endless ocean of moral degradation to which Silas had only truly dipped his toes.
Yet, it was at this moment kneeling down in the red sands of Korriban that the battlemaster had allowed his self to cross that line. While Silas had merely been concentrating and allowing the darkness to permeate his being, now he elected to call upon his masterful connection to the Force itself. The valley illuminated to Silas’s ‘second sight’ allowing the battlemaster to witness the legendary realm in a manner only accessible to an experience adept.
Silas bore witness to the true nature of the dark side or at least its influence on a world it had dominated for centuries. The turmoil that had afflicted Silas since his induction into the Force began to settle as the raw dark side energies started to mix with the both the supernatural energies arrival at Silas’s call as well as the Force that dwelt within his core.
Strength unlike anything Silas had felt since Dooku had aided him in his battle with the Jedi Honor Guard on Koda Station began to surge within him. Silas’s eyes snapped open as he exclaimed, “What power…it seems this is the path I have sought all these cycles.” Rising to standing position Silas noticed that the dark side energies began to greatly increase as if responding to the darkness that had already accumulated within him.
A calm not experienced in cycles passed over Silas as the dark side energies finally overwhelm his being. Extending his left hand with his fingers together pointed away from his body Silas then channeled a current of purified dark side energy augmented with potent Force energies and cast it out in an arc (Force Lightning). The magnitude of the attack was far greater than any use of the technique Silas had ever had. ‘You see now. This is the power you were always meant to wield.’
***Force Power 4th Level – Feed on Darkside: 400 word requirement, Application End***
Still breathing hard Silas fell to a single knee acknowledging the danger of his actions. Yet, the Echani lord knew that he had taken the first step toward freedom…freedom from the chains that bound him. It was in this moment that the Lord of the Echani felt the presence of a man he could have sensed from systems away; Tormentous had arrived on Korriban.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
27 Dec 2016 22:29 #2
---Harrower Dreadnaught Malevolent
Bursting from the blank sheet of darkness came forth the bringer of despair, the Malevolent itself. The world of Korriban was down below and immediately from the auxiliary hangar of the ancient warship came a dagger shaped shuttle with flanking foils to stabilize it and regulate energy. It was the Specter, a Sith Infiltrator and personal vessel of Darth Tormentous himself. The shuttle flashed forward on the green pinions of its impulse drive and it shot down into the upper atmosphere of the sacred world of beginnings.
It hadn’t been but three days prior that Darth Tormentous had ordered the Malevolent away from a siege battle over an Imperial world and the warship had been set on coordinates to Korriban. No reason had been given. It was on the whim of Tormentous’ unchallenged word that the crew of the Malevolent lived and died and it was by his desire to seek out the bastardized Imperial token, a gleaming gem on the sea of sorrows, that the Imperial world was spared. Millions of lives given another set of days in exchange for a single Echani soul that was lost and mired in knee deep conflict - a conflict of the mind that would end today.
He’d sensed the despair of Silas Karn and the Dark Side - no - it had been Bane himself, Darth Bane of the beyond who’d cried out across the abyss and spoke to Tormentous of a coming servant who’d lost his way. Knowing Bane wouldn’t press him for pointless toils, Tormentous relinquished the battle to the Imperial defenders and left an entire squadron of Sith Starfighters to be butchered by responding Imperial TIEs. His haste for Korriban would not be hindered by the mere loss of peons and pawns, all were essentially cattle anyways and to give the Imperials hope that they’d fended off the Sith only to return again soon and rip it away would be a sweet emotional storm that Tormentous joyed to experience. So much failure and despair would rend asunder the void of the Force and fuel him for they were all his play things. A million lives to be extinguished for not a single purpose other than his pleasure. Or so it seemed and even that which he wanted everyone to believe.
When they saw his motive as blinded slaughter and pointless death that was when he had them helplessly at his feet. That the murder of millions needed to occur to fund this great and terrible ruse he cared little of. The point was that the less his enemies knew and the more they speculated, the great his power was to become and in time he would hold dominion over all, even the Force itself.
The Specter screamed through the wind and the sonic boom that announced its incoming flew through the Valley of the Dark Lords and shattered the dust that had settled down millennia ago. It rose unto the wind and began to drift aloft, scattering its ancient ruin upon Silas’ regal - yet corrupted form. The wind increased as the Specter created a draft within the vast Valley. This arrival was not designed for stealth - it was designed to be a calling.
Silas Karn had come to Korriban seeking answers or even a pillgramige to his destiny’s doorway. Darth Tormentous had come to Korriban to shut the door and refuse Silas an escape. Already the eldest Karn was taking his steps along the path of damnation and Tormentous needn’t ‘turn’ him. His goal here was to show Silas Karn that the Dark Side was his only choice. It wasn’t about survival - Tormentous sensed such destruction upon Karn’s soul that he was already dead inside, he needed only to plant the seed of revenge - purpose - direction. Once pointed, the Lost Son of Eshan would be hard pressed to refuse - even forever engaged with the Darkness of time. Tormentous was here to bring Silas unto the tormented, to submit him low unto his word and raise him up with a new name known only to those who would eternally fear him once he struck them down without mercy.
Karn knew hatred, this was true, but he didn’t yet know how to use it. He was still a child, toying with the power of those that had come before.
But after this was over - hatred would see Silas as an old friend and it would gladly welcome him home.
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Highblade
Registered Member
29 Dec 2016 16:32 #3
In the relatively short period in which the Mandalorian icon had been transformed into a rising Sith legend Silas had already confronted Tormentous multiple times in key engagements between the Galactic Empire and the Sith Lord’s own faction within the Sith Order.
During these battles Silas had lacked the proper time to truly discern who the man beneath the mask was. Yet, as the two skirmished hallmarks of a presence that had seemingly vanished from the galaxy began to compile in Silas’s assessment of the Sith antagonist. As Tormentous’s ship landed Silas was almost overwhelmed with the raw intensity of the darkness that radiated from the figure that emerged.
Having confronted this foe so often Silas gathered into his near peerless senses the crimson light that erupted from the core of Tormentous’s being, however, it was what the former Regent had perceived through the Life Sense technique that most disturbed his thoughts. Weary from his journey and the inner turmoil, distress, and emotional trauma he had experienced in swift succession Silas nearly collapsed as the Tormentous’s aura eclipsed his own.
Falling to one knee Silas looked up to witness a truth that was hidden from almost all other inhabitants of the vast galaxy. As the pale lifeless sheen of Tormentous’s blind eye fell upon Silas’s own gaze the young ruler fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Though his supposition was likely accurate the alteration to the cloaked man’s aura within the Force had long forestalled such a conclusion.
As Tormentous neared Silas the wide-eyed Echani royal was about to address the Sith only to be interrupted by another voice. ‘This man has delved further into the Dark Side than I imagined possible in this diluted age. He now bears the shadow of my master upon him.’ Silas, startled by the aspect’s insight, pressed Dooku for an explanation.
‘Are you telling me that he holds some fragment of the emperor as I once did?’ As Silas waited Tormentous closed the remaining distance between them. ‘No, not Sidious, it is more accurate to say a similar presence has forged a connection with him. It might explain how this individual has held such prodigious growth within the Force.’
Their conversation ended Silas looked to Tormentous and was the first to speak. “Well met Master Wylcott, or should I address you as Tormentous?” It seemed the Sith may have been caught off guard with Silas’s words and such the battlemaster continued, still breathing heavily between utterances.
“Are you here simply to finish what the empire has begun in wiping clean my name from this galaxy? Or perhaps the Living Force possesses some semblance of dark humor that you seek an accord?” Silas spoke yet his words held little conviction. He was in no condition to contest Tormentous as he was now, though just as a cornered animal the Echani was still quite dangerous to any opponent.
Moreso his offering of a line of conversation that included any union between such long standing foes held great insight into the turmoil within him. It was as if the true and darker nature of the Lord of Thyrsus sought to guide the meeting to a conclusion that would finally set it free.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
05 Jan 2017 07:51 #4
The Specter touched down gently enough though the dust whipped the Valley ruthlessly. A single landing ramp descended and standing at the awning of the entryway stood a six foot, four inch man whose robes billowed in the wind. The handle of a sword protruded over his right shoulder and the tip of the blade easily was spotted down the left side. He wore a heavy cape and cowl that could be considered a cloak and from where he stood, he eyed the one man who he possibly could hate any more or any less.
Much of him desired to stride forth on pinions of battle and impale the dishonored Echani Lord and drink on his life blood the joys of an ultimate victory. Death was the ultimatum of the universe. Everyone died. Even the Sith Lords of old. They simply found a way to stick around a little longer. But it was in this that the Sith of this age knew best - death was the absolute and it was not a worship worthy subject. Instead, they understood it as a means to an end. No longer did the Sith strive for pointless death. Instead death lay only with purpose. Tormentous believed in this tenant and he wasn’t about to let the blood-lust and vengeance of a dead man control his actions and strike this Echani down - yet.
His heavy boots crunched on the ancient gravel of Korriban as he neared Silas Karn. He could feel the conflict in Silas. It was so great a war within the Echani Noble that the last of the Karn’s fought even himself in an epic of times found long ago. Tormentous fed on this internal destruction and knew from experience that the elder Karn was not long for this world. Without proper guidance it was likely that the conflict inside of him would only ferment and create such a calamity within his soul that he’d rip himself apart. Within a year, Silas would be little more than a mewling husk of his former self because of the very conflict he set into motion himself.
Though, there was hope. Tormentous could see it within the Karn that he’d only just touched upon the truth of the Dark Side’s power. A teasing morsel of what could be. How infantile it was but he knew all too well that the first step towards this path was the most important. Having succeeded, Silas was now only awaiting the crown of his achievements. There was so much more too. He could feel a power in Silas that mimicked the visage of Bane. Though it was more potent in form, perhaps that Silas kept this mystery specter at his beckon call where Tormentous banished Bane to reside in his own coffin for he detested the incessant nagging and prodding. Hence he only spoke to Bane when he so deigned the reason worthy. Yet in Karn it seemed that he kept his toys closer to the chest, as it were.
So much he could sense within only the first moment and yet much was mystery indeed. As he approached, Silas knelt. Though Tormentous’ eye narrowed, it was not a gesture of fealty but rather a physical response to his own awesome presence within the Dark Side which Silas had only just realized. But for his display of weakness, his mouth spat defiance and for that Tormentous’ choler raised a notch, joyful, if he could know the feeling, that such a grandiose warrior as Silas Karn was not yet bested and still had the fire in his heart. Tormentous needed that fire. He needed Karn and he needed him on Xilkarth. First though he’d need to teach the Echani his place. But not quite yet.
“Neither,” Tormentous spat, “you shall speak to me as Darth Tormentous.” His metallic voice hissed the words and he looked down on his one time foe, and soon to be servant once he crushed his freewill.
He gazed down upon Karn, the blind eye stinging with accusation and ironically it had been Silas and Kyr’amur that had granted him this handicap. “There is much conflict in you, Karn.” He stated flatly, “I needn’t ask my agents abroad to know that a rift has grown between yourself and your beloved Empire.” He was cutting straight to the chase now, “But what they do whisper is that even Eshan has broken ties with their land lords. Can’t be too promising a future.” He walked passed Silas’ kneeling form some distance, “You know better than anyone don’t you, Lord Regent? The Empire doesn’t simply ‘let things go,’” He turned in a flourish of his cloak. “Now I find you here,” his arms spread aside, “on the birthing grounds of the Sith.” He arms dramatically fell to his sides, he all but had Silas right where he wanted him now. “Am I wrong to think that you are trying to consort with the past to obtain security for your future?”
He walked back to Silas’ front and reached down with a heavy hand to grasp the Echani by the cusp of his regal armored gorget. He lifted the large man from the ground and shoved him onto his feet, though he didn’t let go. “Let’s see, Karn, what you truly hide.” His grip tightened as he tapped into the Dark Side of the Force. (Sith Sorcery) A storm of Darkness flooded all around him as he accessed and obtained the will of the Sith spirits that surrounded him. With his free hand he stabbed Silas’ forehead with his finger and his mouth opened and engulfed Silas in ethereal flame. His finger went to the knuckle and his palm then slapped the ex-Imperial firmly as Tormentous hissed a language long forgotten and forbidden. (Drain Knowledge)
“Anga tu’iea dvasi!” [Open your mind!]
The words spilled out like thunder and fell on Silas Karn like acidic pestilence to devour his mental barriers and produce the wee thoughts and most precious secrets of the Karn Regent. Though this was not done without target.
Tormentous sought the memories and thoughts surrounding the year passed Bastion Summit, the Empress, and Karn’s own dealings with the Dark Side of the Force.
He would have this knowledge. Whether Silas Karn willed it or not.
Elements of Sith Sorcery though needed no reason or direction. Some things cried out to be seen. Even those of the future in one’s destiny and even that of his past or even multiple paths along a present route with different endings. Each an impassable masterpiece of webbing that could be used to condemn and destroy just as equally as redemption and salvation. He saw something specific though among the lineage of Silas Karn’s future and behind the Karn beheld a monstrous visage of spines, muscular connections, bones of unnatural configuration and they were all tainted with so much Dark Side energy that Tormentous nearly stumbled backwards and immediately released the Karn. Though he maintained and he was delivered the potential of Karn’s mastery should he be nurtured and taught to harness his power rather than tease it and lap up the scraps of true power and strength.
Even Karn himself began to contort into a form far flung from his natural Echani beauty. He spawned deformities and pustules all in the honor of a more perfect being, created by the Force and the Dark Side together. It was horrific. Nothing more than an abomination and Tormentous knew right then and there that he should end Silas Karn and save the entire galaxy the pains of this evil. Yet his hand never reached up to his sword with which to cleave the Karn in twain. For he saw the abomination that Silas could create and he saw himself. That anyone should suffer as he did was a travesty in itself and Tormentous’ fiber of his entire being rebelled at the thought. But then his hatred began to swell and he remembered his purpose.
He wanted to make the galaxy suffer as he did.
This Karn was his doorway unto ultimate torment.
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Highblade
Registered Member
10 Jan 2017 15:07 #5
“Anga tu’iea dvasi!” A dangerous proposition to be sure. Too weary to have the presence of mind to reverse Tormentous’s sorcery with his own, Silas fell subject to a terrifying power. In times past Silas could have called upon the serenity of his mind to cast out the invader utilizing the ancient art of immunity.
Yet, the light had gone out within Silas and now such techniques were beyond his grasp. Instead, Tormentous was successful in wrenching out memories and thoughts buried within Silas’s subconscious mind. Almost as inspiring as it was dreadful Silas beheld a Sith interrogation technique that was as of yet unknown to the Echani leader; a mystery to be sure.
Succeeding in his invasion of the stalwart mind of the foremost battlemaster of the era Tormentous was treated to a vision of insights long held from any living sentient. The first of which was the vast chambers which the gathering of Moff’s held court within Bastion. The imposing view Silas had been granted looking up at the vipers who bartered his future.
This first vision was tainted with hatred and possessed a crimson filter upon every image. The image quickly faded into a red haze before returning with the image of an Echani noblewoman. As Tormentous was gifted this insight voice spoke within his mind, “This is the late Mistress of the Echani house of Karn. It was her Genetic code that was used…”
The vision shifted swiftly to a well dressed imperial woman whom had just risen up from the witness stand. “Colonel Morven killed Vasto Karn and incapacitated Endrasi Karn,” the woman spoke and once more the image faded into a crimson haze. Darkness soon blotted out the haze completely before a dim light shown in front of two men.
The first was an aged man in tattered robes which belied their worth and carrying a lightsaber at his side. The second was an Alliance official of similar age yet bearing far greater refinement. “Your sister would be executed before she left the Golan…”
“Or you can agree to my offer, and your sister will face the Jedi’s justice.”
After the man spoke a pale blue haze swept away the images and in their stead Tormentous was treated to a view of the lush fields and picturesque beauty of Silas’s private sanctuary. It was within the private domain that Tormentous bore witness to the moment Silas first called upon the specter of his teacher; Darth Tyranus the famed Count of Serenno.
The scenery then remained as a small child replaced the count in Silas’s eyes. It was then that the almighty presence of the Emperor, Lord Sidious manifested at the young adept’s call. The unsettling aura seemed to seep into every fiber of Tormentous’s being as Silas struggle with the spirit ensued and ultimately climaxed with the tainting of his left arm.
As the last images faded from sight Silas, finally able to move, managed to deliver a thunderous palm strike to Tormentous’s chest, carrying the powerful Sith more than a meter’s distance backward through the air (Force Charged Strike). To Silas the entire event had elapsed in excruciatingly long fashion despite the few scant moments it had to an outside observer.
The moment Tormentous had forged a connection with the Echani noble, Silas had been granted a vision all his own. In thick white fog and black night Silas witness both his self and the man he knew as Jacobi standing opposite one another. The two then engaged in hand-to-hand combat as a new presence began to loom overhead.
A grey spire jutting out from the deep reaches of the mist quickly became more prominent as the two sparred. A host of shadows and murmurs developed overhead of the spire before the ground was consumed with fire and the two men left in near-death condition. It was then that a man in white calmly walked up to the two and with a vile grin looked back to the spire, “They will due nicely.”
Screaming out as he connected with Tormentous, Silas touched his face as if to make sure he was still his self. Turning his attention back to the reeling Sith, Silas extended his left arm and shouted out in frustration as luminous bolts of pure energy leapt from his fingertips (Force Lightning). Though there was still much that needed discussed, Tormentous’s actions had triggered something deep within the battlemaster.
Last edited by Highblade on 10 Jan 2017 15:12, edited 2 times in total.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
10 Jan 2017 21:50 #6
The memories were vivid and bright, regardless of their hue and filter of which Tormentous could feel the light and the darkness within them neatly. His brutish tactic had suffered Karn and Karn’s own acute senses betrayed him, allowing the Sith Lord to be privy to the most sensitive and secret of thoughts within the eldest Karn’s mind. A plethora of information that could only be discerned to its fullest whence he held time to meditate on them and draw forth their meaning. Otherwise, he only caught glimpses and already he’d forgotten half of them. Yet his mind retained the full images relayed to him and there they would dormantly remain until summoned at an appropriate time.
It was the palm strike the disenfranchised the connection and burst it into a trillion fragments, hence the fragmented memories that would have to be pieced together later. The blow was incredible and Tormentous felt - the pain! Intoxicating pain, it rushed into his being and birthed a purity within him that spurned a need for more. His eternal torment was continuous and as his life, if it could be so called, continued onwards - he began to get used to the pains he constantly suffered. Thus any new damage he took on was a welcoming thing. Almost sadistic in his yearn for the flavor yet the truth came most apparent when his anger fueled from the pain.
He didn’t enjoy the pain at all. It was amplified due to Silas’ use of the Force and it had struck him and awakened the currents of the Dark Side within his own being. It tore into his mind like a dagger slowly being pressed against the back of his brain and he nearly cried own in terror. Any normal man under this condition would have died right then and there. But it was his hatred that forced his endurance in this realm. The Force, oh how he despised and detested it so. To feel it coursing through his being was an affront to him and he wanted nothing more than to rip it asunder. That was until the fury of battle fell over him and his choler lifted up into the ethereal and fueled him to step forth as Tormentous once more.
Standing up now from being knocked down to one knee, he stared into Silas’ soul and the yellow acidic left began to burn more brightly while the right cursed him in the blame of a thousand furious stars. Rage had come and while Darth Tormentous was fully in control, he’d wield it as a finely tuned javelin to pluck out the heart of his opponent and rend his will to shreds - where he would instill unending torment upon the Echani.
Power - in this place Tormentous was supreme. His connection to the Sith spirits made his potential unyielding and he knew no bounds save his own imagination. Further it fueled him. In turn, Silas’ abilities of the Light would suffer in potency even more than they already did due to his unbalanced state. Tormentous could feel this imbalance and he desired to topple the Echani youth and crush him once and for all.
Rising up to his full height now, his cloak billowed in the blistering winds that began to stir up and his right arm lifted up to grasp the dreaded hilt of damnation’s own sword. The instant his gloved hand made contact with the leather bound hilt, an ethereal scream announced the most impure connection to have ever suffered the Force itself. Jidai Maras had awoken to its master’s call and as the steel was drawn a shriek of glee pierced the Dark Side and it seemed as if Tormentous’ very presence began to suck away the light that surrounded him. The colors of Korriban faded several shades as his corrupted soul banished them and the drone of the Dark Side of the Force began to sound aloud as a bass ring. The promise of doom and the physical representation to the Dark Side made manifest.
He drew it fully - and he swung it across his body, letting the tip cleave a gouge in the sand. Forged from the sands of Korriban itself - within the fires of Exar Kun’s Temple on Yavin IV - with the blood of three. Jidai Maras desired freedom, the freedom of combat. Though as it tasted the air, it caught the scent of something familiar - Silas Karn. The blood of Silas had been shed by this blade once before and as such the blade recognized the Echani Lord and it yearned for more. Previously a mirror surface - Jidai Maras began to softly glow red and its temperature skyrocketed well beyond any measureable boiling point. Then, the image of the blood streak left on the blade back at Eol Sha emerged from the ethereal. The identical spatter - and it cried out into the beyond for Silas to grace this blade’s edge once more.
Lightning blazed forth towards Tormentous from the finger tips of Karn, the burning energy surged forth and the Darth was elated now more than ever. He reached forth a hand and intercepted the lighting. (Absorb/Scatter Energy). He couldn’t absorb such potent fuel as this in its entirety and so he spent it away into the ethereal. His hand burned and blistered, gloves melted and fused with skin with excruciating pains accompanying the heat. He shouted out in pain until he could take no more and he struck outward with Jidai Maras and his blade burst with sparks as the energy coursed over its length. His left hand smoldered while his right arm shook with intensity.
He staggered backwards, how truly powerful Silas was, if only he knew his true potential. ‘Then I will show him.’ Mused the Darth and once Silas released his burst, Tormentous smiled underneath his cowl. “Such power, wasted!” He said with a shout and thrust the tip of Jidai Maras, which was still alight with the power of the soaked up lighting attack - this Sith Sword was unlike a saber which would disperse energy. Instead Jidai Maras would store an attack like Force Lightning - and deliver it anew double fold! “Witness power as it ought be wielded! A tool to utilize! A weapon to strike low! Behold,” he thrust forth Jidai Maras and one singular bolt the size of Silas’ forearm jetted forth and charred the sands of the earth with its passing overhead. Jagged and hungry, the bolt burned forth - and it desired to claim Silas Karn and utterly destroy him.
“You are weak and insignificant in this place Karn! I will tame you, I will break you, and I will subjugate you! And then when you are mine, you’ll destroy that which is most precious to you as a sacrifice to my will.” He breathed heavily inward and drew forth a prime memory from Silas’ given thoughts. “Kraiov…” Darth Tormentous smiled underneath his mask, “you betray your friends already. Do not resist, you are already working for me.” He sought further, “Idaan,” “Yes. It is already too late. As you do, they too belong to me. Though I’ll have far less mercy on them than I am for you… my servant…”
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Highblade
Registered Member
12 Jan 2017 16:56 #7
“Such power, wasted!” The former Mandalorian exclaimed as Silas’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Jacobi has truly become a being to be feared!’ Silas noted in disturbed fashion internally as he watched the most powerful of all his techniques not only be defended, but reflected back upon him with greater magnitude.
Though Tormentous may still have been wary of Silas’s formerly impressive aptitude with the light, such as the art that diminished the Dark Lord’s power on Eol Sha, such abilities were no longer accessible to the Echani ruler. The inner turmoil he felt and emotional anguish Silas had experienced left him unable to attain peace, serenity, calm, or even feel the same righteous indignation necessary to once more play judicator.
Studying Tormentous’s own reaction to his Force Lightning, Silas knew that while he had expended some of his finite stamina to both push back the Sith Lord as well as take the opportunity for an offensive Tormentous had expended far less in the assault of the Lord of Eshan’s mind.
Furthermore, the exertion Silas had pressured the Sith into making had been an ineffective use of the energy absorption or displacement technique. As the art required far less than the more pronounced Tutaminis which, in addition to greater focus used the mastery of the blocking Force ability to properly utilize, would only inflict even greater strain on the user.
This meant a proper defense would only further serve to exhaust Silas in greater proportion to his opponent if could even be managed at all. Left with two viable options and seeing an augmented evasion as yet another inefficient solution Silas swiftly thrust his right hand to his left side.
With a seamless transition Silas ignited the blade of his lightsaber in a sweeping arc terminating at his left side. The once glorious sapphire blade seemed to be tarnished with black flakes flickering across the outer reaches of its hue. It was visible representation of the misalignment of Silas’s soul and one that would not easily escape the keen eyes of Tormentous.
With near-peerless form Silas guided the insidious bolt of tainted Force energy into the luminous blade of his lightsaber. Silas’s only saving grace was the lack of telekinetic force behind the attack, an element he was still training his self to augment his own thunderous volleys with, as the discharge threatened to break his guard and overwhelm even the known counter to such an offensive.
Even drawn to a singular point in Silas’s blade the unnatural electricity the volley still arced onto Silas’s body. Scoring marks swiftly dotted the battlemaster’s heirloom armor and as the assault dissipated a spark charred a loch of Silas’s hair. Tormentous, self assured of his victory, had not taken the opportunity to secure favorable positioning to strike at his loathed rival.
Instead, the Sith lord delivered a very effective breaking speech which would have been outright ignored were it not for one word, “Idaan.” Interestingly, if Tormentous had been studying the Echani noble’s reaction, “Kraiov,” seemed to draw forth further confliction within Silas. Even the, “my servant” remark drew a mixed internal response from the young warrior.
A sudden change came to Silas’s eyes as the citrine gleam faded to reveal the pale light granted from an Echani battlemaster’s focus. The almost feral glare offered from Silas belied an unnatural calm. Raising his blade to meet his eyes and then dropping his arm with a small flourish Silas offered the traditional Form II salute.
Calling upon the pinnacle of his peerless connection to the Force, Silas channeled the great wealth of supernatural energies to his extremities in preparation for his initial charge. “There are many paths forward, and some of these include an accord. However, I will never willingly suffer further damage to my legacy.”
The events after the Unification War were unknown to Tormentous and what Silas spoke of was shrouded in meaning he could not grasp without context. However, the resolve Silas had acquired spoke volumes. Reading his opponent Silas continued to drown his self within the Living Force as he waited for the moment to strike.
“Far too much time has passed since our last contest of single combat. You have undergone a startling transmigration since Tatooine. We must once more establish dominance before any talk of subjugation or unity.” Silas paused a moment for emphasis, “Strike me down with the full breadth of your power, or suffer ruin at my hands this day!”
The revelation of Silas’s presence on Tatooine would carry only so much weight as Tormentous had recovered memories of the life he once led. Silas did not give his foe opportunity to ponder as his body all but vanished from sight (Force Speed). In his battle with Xavius the augmentation of speed and the reliance on either sith sorcery or enhancement of his prowess in lightsaber combat had been held back.
Silas had reasoned away the use of augmented speed with the increased fatigue and strain associated with its use and it had been in the battle for refinement of his skill to tip the scales; Silas would not make the same mistakes. Traversing the distance between them Silas form blurred from the velocity in which he moved.
With the immense precision allotted to him through his chosen form, impeccable focus, and almost peerless expertise with the lightsaber, Silas led off with a blindingly fast one-handed thrust. Stalemated in their initial confrontation, the contest would not be decided by the knowledge of the Force but by the totality of the pair’s martial prowess.
Last edited by Highblade on 12 Jan 2017 17:02, edited 2 times in total.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
01 Feb 2017 20:31 #8
Darth Tormentous’ eye narrowed down upon Silas’ flawless Form II at the very moment he mentioned that the paths forward were many. "What you fail to understand, Karn," he lifted his sword up into the Ataru pose, a measure to pull his foe off guard for this was not the chosen Form he’d be utilizing though he was taking stock in Silas’ incredible swordsmanship that he’d be keen to pick up on the Form IV stance and react accordingly, "is that the only forward path is channeled by my will. I will give you what you seek though it shall be my dominance over you as my subject. You will obey me as your lord before this day’s end. Do it not and this is where your great journey shall end and let it be known that after you’ve perished here in the sand, your friends will suffer beyond your time in a great collapse that I’ll cast them into. Your will, Karn, belongs to me."
Tormentous was nearly about to begin in earnest yet he gave pause as Silas opened his maw once more and spilt forth his own damnation. ‘Strike me down with the full breadth of your power…’ In that moment it angered him that Silas, still for all that he’d witnessed of heard of on Eol Sha, Tanaab and Eshan - that he yet underestimated Tormentous in his own heart of power. Anger was an injustification of the feeling. He was furious and the fury grew with every passing moment though with a mind as strong as his own, he refused the blind rage that would have taken over many Dark Jedi or lesser Sith - he retained his composure and allowed the raw emotion to darken his demeanor for through emotion he would gain strength and this strength would produce his unfathomable power and through that he would rend victory from the smoldering corpses of the weak and wanting. "Very well, Karn. You bring this upon yourself."
At the outset of this melee, as an afterthought to his strategy he erected his own barriers (Force Shield) that he’d be protected from mundane trickery and foolishness. With this mild preparation - in came the Echani noble with a speed unknown to all but the most advanced of Force Practitioners though it was to be known that Darth Tormentous hadn’t risen to prominence through diplomacy and assassinations but rather through the heat of constant warfare. Where Silas had held the seat of the Regency behind a desk and only made it to the field of battle but three times since, Tormentous lived and breathed the blood of the offended and his training hadn’t ceased. A fat and unprepared Silas would receive the full brunt of Darth Tormentous’ host. It would be revealed that there was one true Lord of this Galaxy and his name was the King of Decay and Calamity! His name was Darth Tormentous.
The initial thrust came in with flawless precision only delivered by a master of the arts and instantly Tormentous saw that to blindly counter would see Karn’s follow-up in a riposte that simply flicked Silas’ blade outwards, around and into the head zone for a simplistic but efficient end to this melee within the opening second. Tormentous would not be so undone. He stepped outwards and away, his back to the thrust and Jidai Maras maneuvering over his shoulder angled perfectly behind him to receive the obvious shift to the small of his back. Saber to metallic blade contact erupted and in the blink of an eye Tormentous had blocked both outcomes. It is now when he tapped into his own pool of energy (Force Speed) and with the grace of a dancer belying his mighty form he slipped aside on his heel and spun to face Karn again using the shoulder arch of Jidai Maras to swing over the shoulder and into a low arching slash that would come to the fore at Silas’ thighs.
By this time Jidai Maras had also awoken and was lapping up the wayward cast energies in the surrounding area and it was building itself up for the coming battle. It’s cool shimmering blade, perfection as a mirror surface, was now rising in temperature and beginning to glow a faint red while cracking trails of destruction formed as apparent blemishes on the surface. It was turning this magnificent and beautiful blade into a demonic sorcerer’s weapon of hate.
Tormentous himself could taste the conflict in Silas’ heart and he fed off of this troubling emotional stance with ease (Feed on Dark Side). Emotions were fuel to fill the emptiness and they produced raw strength, power and speed that didn’t need to be augmented by the Force. These things combined would allow Tormentous to keep up and set Silas’ own speed on par with his own. In a more normal situation, Force Speed on Force Speed, it was likely Silas would hold purchase on the speed gauge and force Tormentous onto the backfoot early on. With this equalizer it was apparent that this was not the case and a precious advantage reaped by Silas Karn was stolen away to the furious and unrelenting hunger of Darth Tormentous.
This point of effect would continue to progressively fuel Tormentous’ being and as the battle prolonged itself to the martial prowess of these two titans, Tormentous would only continue to gain where Silas would tire - it was only inevitable.
However, there was finality to be found here. For Silas’ anticipation and perhaps his theorem that they were stalemated in the power of the Force would soon be shattered upon the wall of Tormentous’ will. Here in his heart of power, with the gains he would feed from Silas’ own emotion and additionally his own hatred. Darth Tormentous would end this incredible battle with a true display of his maximum potential. He would soon invoke an ancient technique heralded by the Sith from millennia ago that only those whose hatred exceeded in measure to that of a star’s own power. It would be the final display to show Silas Karn the potential that he could one day achieve if he only devoted himself to the Dark Side of the Force.
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Highblade
Registered Member
06 Feb 2017 17:41 #9
‘Unreal!’ Silas remarked internally at the sight of the Dark Lord’s unforeseen acceleration. It was immediately apparent to the battlemaster that his foe had received a boon beyond his natural limitations. ‘It is not simply the environment that feeds his strength. You are in part, responsible for this increase.’ Beyond the ability to match Silas’s inhuman speed, Tormentous’s physical strength managing to negate almost all of the weight and kinetic draw of the Jidai Maris in addition to the master level skill in which he now handled the sword had the long rival in awe.
With resplendent footwork Silas managed to pivot around and deftly feint the high arcing and brutal sweep offered by Tormentous, one which would have immediately ended the battle in the most gruesome of manners. Yet, for all the Sith Lord’s impressive arsenal the next several maneuvers would be granted to Silas as Tormentous’s use of Ataru clearly more resembled Qui Gon Jinn than it ever would have the famed Grandmaster of that era. To Silas’s keen eyes the man who was known to him as Jacobi was extremely well yet lacking true refinement.
Either the Dark Lord was utilizing a form he had not yet mastered or Tormentous simply lacked the depth of experience Silas had accumulated in singular duels of such magnitude. However, any stiffness or linear technique the battlemaster could detect would be almost imperceptible to all but the greatest swordsmen. Furthermore, and a source of great concern for Silas, was the fact that the Echani battlemaster had long ago recognized that Jacobi was a prodigy in battle.
The mere act of engaging Silas in the pinnacle of lightsaber combat, might allow the Sith to instinctively grow as a duelist and bridge the gap that separated the two opponents within a single engagement. Sparks rained over the crimson sands as Silas continued to press Tormentous with the greater aspects of positioning, forced openings, and counter attacks attributed to Makashi. Despite several attacks nearly making contact there was no assurance given to Silas even as he gained momentum.
With his pre-fight assessment of his opponent shattered in the one area he prided his self most Silas began to reconsider the notion that any exchange within the Force itself would end in stalemate. ‘His connection to the Force mirrors my own that is true. However, the longer this contest continues the greater the intensity of its measure within him. It is beginning to feel the same on Koda. The potency and magnitude of its presence might even now surpass the Empress on that day.’
Sweat began to bead upon Silas’s brow as he fought against his own combat sense. The indignation of Tormentous not already being cut down by Silas’s skill with the blade finally began to push the battlemaster to extend beyond his natural limitations. Mastering his will upon the Force that continuously met his call Silas refined his movements, his footwork, the very movement of his wrists as he drew forth a degree of lightsaber combat not seen in an age (Enhance Skills: Masterful Lightsaber Combat).
Silas had recognized very early on in his training that he held a far lesser talent for the more pronounced offensive techniques within the Force to such an extent that he even possessed a diminished output in telekinesis when compared to an adept of similar connection to its supernatural power. With a singular focus Silas has aspired to surpass even the famed skill of his master within the very same form as a matter of pride.
After his humiliating defeat at the hands of Xavius, due in large part to his unfamiliarity with light whips, Silas had vowed to exceed the very limits of his own mastery of the lightsaber. Now, in a duel of fates that very much held the potential to shape the galaxy’s future, Silas unleashed the very apex of his pronounced skill. Taking the hilt of his lightsaber with both hands Silas magnified the velocity of his strikes as he began to rotate the arcs of his attacks so violently it threatened to do harm to his own wrists and hands.
Just as Dooku before him his blade appeared as three, each a short distance behind the other, as the speed of his offensive reached its terminal velocity. Determined to succeed where no other sentient had before him Silas intentionally allowed an intense thrust aimed at Tormentous’s mid section be deflected and used the shift in momentum the rotate his saber in a violent arc terminating at the Sith’s cowl. The maneuver lashed outward with unimaginable precision and would call the battle and the series of confrontations to a dramatic close.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
22 Feb 2017 11:12 #10
The Echani Noble went onto the offensive in direct opposition to the Sith Lord’s designs though this was to be noted for it was true that on the battlefield in a chaotic setting where a duel wasn’t so necessary - it was Tormentous that ruled as a king among pawns. Without limitation and to maximize his strengths as a savage. A barbarian he was not, but a savage - Tormentous didn’t shy from the truth when it came to call and he recognized things. The admittance of such mundane things led further within him and he readily admitted that Silas Karn’s mastery of the duelist’s pose would not be undone so easily. Hence why Tormentous had staged in the Ataru Form with intent to lead Silas in.
While the seamless transition from one Form to the next was realistically impossible without a pause in combat, there were those who could make the transition nearly between swings and blocks almost as if they were enveloped in a never ending evolution of bladework, there was a name for this and it was Niman. Tormentous’ refusal to work in generalizations stemmed from the belief that these middle-of-the road talents and skills were synonymous with the Sith of today - weak and generalized - watered down flakes of unification and equality. True Sith held no such bearing upon these generalizations. Niman was a reflection of equality in Form and Tormentous loathed it. A more absolutist Form was then apparent to Tormentous and he would gradually superimpose his finality upon his foe soon enough.
‘Flawless,’ He commented to himself as Silas danced graciously around the Ataru’s stance. More so than his hatred of Karn which burned into his mind, he sought the opportunity that the Echani presented. A duelist of this caliber, simply surviving against him would grant Tormentous leagues of experience in the duelist’s ring. One single round would formalize him, a set would sharpen and hone but a full bout from start to finish would set Tormentous upon a tier much higher than whence he’d begun. The battlelust craved blood but as ever, since Tormentous’ training with Darth Bane, he’d learned the value of patience and preparation. No longer did Tormentous lunge on a whim anymore; rather his watchword was now to do just that - watch.
Pitting Tormentous onto the defensive was a spoil to the Ataru Form and instead of falling into panic, Tormentous would bide his time, awaiting for an opening with which to fetter his foe and expose a moment wherein he would transition and display his next Form with which to combat Silas further. For now Tormentous was using a defensive stance to equalize Silas’ mastery of Makashi. If he didn’t let Silas get close enough then it didn’t matter how talented he was, he’d not be able to deal the blow to end the fight.
They battled for long moments, Silas had supposed to end the fight in the opening session and Tormentous had already proven himself exemplary in his own drilled bladework and he’d steadfastly thwarted the Echani in his early desires. Though once more - Ataru wasn’t properly designed to defend and the holes in the Form is what began to sway in Silas’ overall favor. Tormentous had previously clogged the holes and used footwork and balance to avoid these things but it had only been inevitable - Silas had held time enough to read the tone of the footwork and through repetition and design he’d measured fractions of seconds that it took for Tormentous to correct the holes. In time Silas found his opening. They parried low then high, Silas continued to advance in perfect prose and Tormentous simultaneously gave ground appropriately in just enough to keep that sapphire blade at bay.
A lightning thrust came forth and Tormentous easily parted the blade from his mid though in an agonizingly ferocious velocity the blue blade arched up and would have stung Tormentous in the temple had he not felt the danger during the thrust. In Ataru fashion he lashed his blade back around and crushed the sapphire one from the air while establishing a reverse grip, it had been the only way to avoid the decapitation and in doing so it condemned his style as a reverse held blade would serve no one in Ataru. It had purpose in Form V but in Form IV it made for awkward and sluggish movement. As a result Silas caught the action and pressed the attack. In addition thanks to his reversal and successful counter he exposed himself and Silas managed a kick that connected to Tormentous’ left ankle and nearly toppled him as he lost his balance and the Echani followed with an elbow aimed to the vulnerable face though the Sith Lord ducked away and rolled aside to both regain his footing and reposition himself to give Silas ground according to the direction of his own choosing.
Tormentous backed up and gave ground, weaving his legs in an out of debris as they moved the combat. They approached a massive staircase and Tormentous backed up its length - approximately a four story incline, roughly ten feet a story. Each step was extremely difficult to perform against a bladed master of Makashi and the Sith Lord was very careful in the execution of his reversed blade which is to his own merit that he didn’t immediately become overwhelmed in such a position to begin with. Though perhaps the sun at his back or bug in his ear or just the treacherous fact he was on Korriban, Silas delayed a fraction of a second and Tormentous felt the folly well. It occurred in a delayed riposte after Tormentous barely fought off a succession of three strikes - two quick thrusts and a whiplash to the left. With the delay came Tormentous’ boot, amplified for height by the stair setting, he snap-kicked Silas - aiming for the face, likely the right cheek. Whether a connection or not occurred it mattered little, Tormentous was given a brief moment of reprieve and in that moment he took a step back and a flourish of his blade righted it into a two handed forward grip as he angled easily into Form V though not in the Shien stance as perhaps signaled in the reverse grip but rather into the Djem So stance.
With the heightened elevation and a differing Form more to his expertise though not yet displaying his utmost in ferocity - Tormentous had finally made the transition and he began with a dauntingly terrifying strike to cross Silas’ right shoulder to left hip
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The Rise of Sovereign
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Highblade
Registered Member
03 Mar 2017 16:00 #11
A magnificent burst of crimson light cloaked in fire cascaded down upon Silas’s stalwart guard. Sparks leapt from the connection of the two juxtaposed blades. Recognition filled Silas’s countenance as the realization of what had occurred swept over the battlemaster. Tormentous had managed to use a terrain feature to augment a determined commitment to defense in the face of an overwhelming assault to stall Silas long enough to shift focus to a much different form.
The magnitude of the sweeping overhead strike, aimed at Silas’s shoulder, was further increased by the advantage of height Tormentous had claimed. Seeing the obvious disadvantage the great staircase posed should he tarry any longer within its steps Silas fell back on the splendid efficiency of movement and peerless footwork long attributed to the Makashi form. Though it caused Silas great anguish to relinquish the momentum of the contest it became immediately clear that any attempt to stand his ground against the powerful sweeping strikes and viscous counterattacks of the acclaimed Djem So would see him defeated in short order.
As a lack of mobility was the greatest known weakness of Form V practitioners the situation almost demanded Silas disengage. Though lesser skilled or experienced light weapon users might have panicked and attempted to hastily switch forms any attempt to do so would have been fatal. As Silas pivoted and maneuvered he augmented his efforts by not only relying on the deft, accurate high guard stance taught to Makashi practitioners which was best suited to denying the tremendous kinetic discharge utilized by a Djem So duelist.
This of course still carried the famed weakness Form II held in duels with the most aggressive lightsaber forms highlighted most in Form V by not allowing the Makashi user to gain any kinetic momentum between strikes. With a tactical withdraw to the landing at the top of the great staircase, which seemed to have further rises that had long been eroded away after the initial devastation visited upon Korriban.
The maneuver was fraught with peril however, as even the peak of Silas’s skill was challenged as the Echani fended of Tormentous’s onslaught. The most prominent of the Sith Lord’s strikes could not be properly deflected, the benefit of the physical sword in which Tormentous had favored, and managed to cleave parts of Silas’s coat, even managing to make contact with the armored plating the guarded the battlemaster’s left shoulder.
The successful attacks burned long after making impact and as a result Silas’s coat was left singed and his armor scarred. Nevertheless, Silas managed to kite his oppressor to the expansive landing at terminal plateau of the great staircase. It was here that the two swordsmen put on an exhibition of the very limits of their respective forms. Silas had finally gained a noticeable advantage in speed thanks to two factors that had combined to erode Tormentous’s ability to match the lithe adept’s unnatural acceleration.
The first of which had been negated in the earlier moments of the duel thanks to the Sith’s innate command of the Dark Side energies that saturated the whole of the encompassing environment on Korriban. However, no amount of surging spiritual energy could completely negate the stamina loss from a protracted battle wielding a bastard sword that likely weighed almost as much as a great sword given its’ heritage. The sheer force required to accelerate the weapon to match the peak velocity of a weightless light-weapon would be enormous.
That Tormentous had almost lost no perceptible speed in his swings was a testament to the dauntless physical specimen the deity of battle had become. The second factor was a far simpler matter in that the Sith Lord’s chosen form lacked the supreme mobility championed by Ataru. Though the well known weakness of Djem So was mobility, highlighted in Silas successful retreat to the landing, that limitation held absolutely no bearing on the contest so long as the two combatants intended to stand toe-to-toe as they did now.
In fact the cause behind this shortcoming facilitated the greatest strength of Form V. The brutal, relentless counter-attacks that followed every successful defense while augmenting the fearsome sweeping power attacks delivered during offensives where only possible due to the rigid stance and movements utilized by Djem So. Though gaining the advantage back in the speed of his movements and even holding the edge in bladework Silas could not overcome the natural disadvantage Tormentous’s chosen form posed to his own Makashi.
‘So long as he holds firm his positioning and focuses solely on counter attacks for offense I cannot breach his guard! In fact I look to only forfeit positioning in order to maintain my own defenses.’ As Tormentous levied yet another fearsome overhead strike down upon Silas, the battlemaster arrived at an epiphany. ‘If I only possessed an offhand light-weapon I could disperse the kinetic discharge cleanly while leading into my own offensives.’
As Silas contemplated the creation of a new lightsaber a voice called to him with great urgency. ‘I have seen the end of this struggle once before. Summon me forth or this will end just as it did at Belsavis.’ Incensed by the insinuation Silas refused the offer, however, the Echani noble could not deny the looming threat of the developing situation he was in. If the fight continued without further adjustments from either side his former master’s insight would be made manifest.
‘No, there is yet another way though such a path holds great risk. Unlike Makashi, Djem So holds no obvious counter, or at least one that has ever had wide usage and notoriety. That is due largely to the scarcity of the counter’s practitioners.’ Streaks of sapphire light continued to clash upon fiery discharges of crimson hue as the two masters honed their craft upon the other. As Silas slowly gave ground the battlemaster began to realize his last alternative.
Though he lacked the same caveat of a physical blade to act as a constant draw upon his stamina, Silas had also denied himself the immense Dark Side energies Tormentous had freely drawn upon. Each drawback had seemed to counterbalance the other during the course of the dual but now Silas elected to garner a portent of the darkness as well; albeit in a different manner. Utilizing his connection to the former Sith Lord Tyrannus, Silas called not for the specter to command his body but upon the vast reserve of supernatural energies his connection could afford him (Sith Sorcery).
As he drew upon the corruption that had long been sealed within him, Silas began circle-strafing Tormentous. Focusing his efforts on pinning the Sith Lord as close to the center of the landing as possible Silas’s eyes began to gleam with a citrine glow. While Silas could not force a decisive victory he wasn’t currently at risk of an immediate loss either. Of course the longer the two fought the greater the demand on Silas’s stamina reserves as Tormentous held the edge with Djem So.
Silas focused on conserving what energy he could with short burst, tactical withdraws as he continued to circle Tormentous. This allowed Silas to gather the dormant Dark Side energies within him while carefully adding it to his own. The next phase of Silas’s plan would require a specific mindset as well as proper positioning to alter his stance. Not wanting to so easily tip his hand Silas pushed toward Tormentous and locked blades with the Sith Lord, “To have pushed me further than any opponent before, you are a marvel among lessers.
Such an imposing warrior and lord would serve as an excellent champion by which to raise banners for. However, I will never relinquish the holdings I have striven to gain the entire duration of my life for.” Silas gave pause a moment for emphasis, “There is no future where I live and she is left forfeit to you!” Silas had revealed the fulcrum to his own undoing, a tool of manipulation should Tormentous possess the cunning to see it and the reserve to see such alternatives.
Last edited by Highblade on 06 Mar 2017 12:41, edited 1 time in total.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
22 Mar 2017 09:16 #12
The furious exchange was unrelenting as Silas Karn finally managed to maneuver onto the apex of the rise where he was able to then pin his foe onto this level for his natural agility and speed accompanied by his better measure of footwork, allowed him to maneuver around Tormentous like a satellite in orbit. Effectively this did nothing more than hold Tormentous in place for his own skill in the blade school was firmly grounded and now that he was utilizing a strength versus a weakness all he needed to do was maintain and eventually Silas would either make a mistake or his stamina would drain and so would be speed be affected.
Alas this was not ideal for Tormentous was being taxed as well. Granted he held vast reserves of stamina through being more physically intimidating than Karn in which he could swing the bastard sword of Korriban at a far easier pace and so he equaled a strong man and longsword, he would still tire. Jidai Maras was a sword of Fate and it dueled Silas in turn. As Tyranus would guide Silas’ hand so too would Jidai Maras guide Tormentous’. It was a painter’s easel in which they fought. One ferocious stroke of counter to another’s brilliantly positioned riposte and cut. The only thing keeping Silas at bay for his superior skill was Tormentous’ powerful strikes. They were so mighty in turn that Silas Karn had come quickly to respect them in that he couldn’t outright block them without backing away and giving ground - which annoyingly he’d return from in a moment’s notice.
This turned the fight into a deadly series of counter advances in which their only path to the upper hand lay within the heart of a counter strategy. Whoever could produce an effective counter commanded the footwork and whoever commanded the footwork commanded the terrain and at this time that was Karn. While he didn’t command the counter he held footwork. As long as Tormentous held the counter, Silas couldn’t end this fight and likewise, as long as Silas held the footwork, Tormentous couldn’t overcome. The tools of finality were too far dispersed. They were truly - an even match.
Blinding speed and finesse versus strength and stamina.
Silas initiated a natural pause in the melee and clashed his sapphire blade against the glowing red of the cracked surface upon Jidai Maras’ face. He wanted to respond, to quip and joust. But he felt the battle-rage for the first time in many a year. Music. He stepped aside of the clash and swept downwards to put Karn off-balance, he spun as he did and expended a bone crushing blow into Silas’ defense, rocking him back several paces. More music flooded into Tormentous’ mind and he stepped with the beating of the war drum. His footwork changed and he now began stepping exactly where he needed to step to continue his brutal countering. Silas’ circular orbit now became ovular.
It was the song of battle and a choir unto his determination. A warrior’s calling. Each stroke of the sword on the canvas was a brush commanded by a symphony of challenge. A song Tormentous hadn’t heard since… Since - he was not who he was now. It felt good. The heat of battle. The clashing of bone and sinew. The elegance of dancing with a sword edge. Fluidity of movement combined with utter grace and control. Tormentous was not blinded by the Dark Side’s rage and for the first moment since he’d become this abomination - he felt serene. While he didn’t suppose what was happening, this was Jacobi Wylcott’s spirit at its most pure. In a battle the likes of which pushed himself to the limit was a moment in time that the Mandalorian of Ordo stood the most strong. He pressed inward and he sang the song of battle’s fury once more in a way that only Wylcott could have done. Underneath that metal mask of steel, he smiled if ever so slightly.
The next parry came in swift, countered and he leapt into a slash that would have bisected Karn in a moment had he not been fast enough to avoid it. Then with momentum gained he launched himself into a flurry of blows though it was not a flurry mounted by anger or rage for it lacked such strength. Instead it was timed, steady and each stroke came with firm confidence. A lash to the shoulder altered and went high into a feint to sweep down at an opposing angle on the opposite shoulder which gracefully ended into a lunge, pointing the tip upwards and through the upper defenses only to lash back down diagonally with ferocity. Suddenly in an unorthodox maneuver he dropped his left hand from the grip and shoved his armored forearm into the flat of the blade, then as if holding a bowstaff he took a massive step forward which would shove Silas’ guard completely off. At the termination of the shove he released the forearm brace, flipped Jidai Maras’ cutting edge outward again and in a reverse grip he spun aside to capitalize on Silas’ unbalance - if he was in such a manner.
Completing his spin he whipped the mighty sword back to the front and into a balanced stance that belied any typical lightsaber Form. He was hunched low with feet spread aptly apart for superior balance and staggered aside to allow him to advance or give ground willingly and with fluid expression. The blade tip of Jidai Maras fell from the traditional defensive stance and angled to point diagonally towards Silas in the exact fashion that the Echani would recognize all too well.
The song was about to reach its chorus.
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Highblade
Registered Member
07 Apr 2017 17:10 #13
The dramatic change in Tormentous’s form had been read, dissected, and laid bare before both Silas’s keen focus and insight. Yet, as the contest continued the finesse of Silas’s Makashi was being forced back by a formless blend of grace and power. In fact, after a brilliant maneuver Tormentous managed to shunt Silas’s near-impenetrable guard. Shifting to a reversed grip Tormentous swiftly capitalized on the gap in Silas’s defenses and scored the first true hit of the duel.
The crimson flame of Jidai Maras laced across Silas’s chest and if not for Silas’s peerless bladework the committed strike would have slain the Echani in a single swipe. Instead, Silas rapidly pivoted the hilt of his lightsaber and brought the blade under Tormentous’s demonic sword and as Silas leapt backward he then guided the sword harmless over his left shoulder.
Silas’s heirloom armor was scarred but not perforated as the lethality of this new form crashed upon the battlemaster’s senses. As Tormentous assumed a startling stance Silas managed to finish the preparations of his own gambit. Raising his lightsaber above his head and pointing in a diagonal line toward Tormentous, Silas altered his own previously unseen stance.
A cool breeze coursed across the war torn landscape and through the sublime platinum hairs that crown Silas’s head. As the pair steadied themselves for the finally of this great duel the similarities in their first contest brought distant memories to the fore. The cycles that had ebbed away since the anti-climax of that struggle had seen both men alter the very destiny of the galaxy. “The first time we clashed I held back the lion’s share of my strength out of arrogance. I hold no such illusions now. You are truly a deity on the battlefield. It is my honor to serve as your undoing. Jacobi Wylcott.”
Silas offered as he attained the necessary focus and mindset to attain the most dangerous and lethal of forms under his mastery. Shifting his weight to his leading foot and giving distance between them Silas led off the next series of exchanges, perhaps the last series. In a blinding rush of altered momentum Silas rained down a flurry of sweeping strikes upon the Sith Lord almost filing Tormentous’s vision with the light of his blades movement.
Yet, as Silas committed his self to an offensive the tone of his own movements and the visage of countenance rang almost hollow with an unnatural calm. It was not until Tormentous sought to counter the jarring assault that the real teeth of Silas’s form barred down on the powerful adept. With each attempted offensive maneuver Silas immediately countered at seemingly the last possible moment, forcing Tormentous to halt his attack and address Silas’s blade.
As Silas watched his opponent’s reactions for the first time since his application of Vaapad the imperfections in his foe’s movements began to irritate his senses. Soon a ringing tone met his ears as his focus was drawn to the side of Tormentous’s blind eye. As Silas continued to push Tormentous back a glint of light shown through what appeared to be a fissure in the image of the Sith Lord.
Silas the instinctively pivoted on his left heel and utilizing the full extent of his augmented speed he used his free hand to slam against the hilt of the Jidai Maras as Tormentous lashed out. If the Sith Lord could not mount an almost physics defying evasive or feinting counter Silas’s follow through would cleave the Tormentous in twain. “Shatterpoint…” Silas exclaimed with only a whisper as the disbelief of what had occured left the adept in shock.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
02 May 2017 16:37 #14
His breath came in a steady and even pattern. The adrenaline effectively diluted any fatigue he may actually be feeling while the spirits of the Dark Lords laughed at his back whilst they fueled him ever onward. As their chosen representative to lord over this era in time - Darth Tormentous would not be undone by this echani lord, no matter how exceptional he claimed or even proved himself to be. It was not in Tormentous’ nature to accept defeat in any measureable capacity. Even more was the point of the fact that it wasn’t skill that bore him onwards but raw natural talent. His affinity for warfare and the duelists pose was high within Tormenotus, channeling the Mandalorian blood within him though be it an affront to the very name mentioned.
Every counter and every parry he stood firm to oppose and no longer could Silas Karn find his edge to this fight. It was simply done that he’d found his equal. Where Silas held flawless technique and perfection, Tormentous in contrast held sheer magnitude and this was where he found himself truly alive. In the heat of battle, in the fires of combat.
Despite the two coming to a stalemate, Silas sought to provoke his opponent into a mistake yet Tormentous was not affected by the mention of the name - Wylcott. He would not be goaded into allowing Silas a handy victory where the slip could have seen him go to. No, it would not be so simply won. Yet, Tormentous didn’t cast away the memory of the slight and he permitted it to stew within the recesses of his mind and he became ever more engrossed in his hatred which was now a burning inferno - set upon this stage, Tormentous would never cease.
Even so, Silas came upon his mentioned attack and indeed positioned himself properly, be it by some false supernatural key or an influx of Force energy to aid him - he’d found himself at a prime position with which to slay the Darth in a single anti-climatic stroke of brilliance in bladework. Simply put - he’d bested Tormentous and was about to deliver the death stroke which would end Darth Tormentous forever. It would slay him and spill his blood upon the sands of Korriban and stain them forever. Finally, Jacobi Wylcott would find the release that Tormentous had denied him. It was an end to this constant and unending turmoil.
Jidai Maras was out of place, having been touched by Silas - the infernal sword claimed stock of Silas in that moment and while at this time it wouldn’t harm the echani lord, in time enough it would make him regret contact with his bare hands. It wouldn’t be so much as any agonizing pain or mind control or anything so mundane - but now that Silas had made contact with it, it would yearn for his blood and crave it sadistically as it had once done with Krynn Karn until it had sated itself. Silas had made an enemy that he could ill afford to suffer for his arrogance.
As the blade came in, Tormentous could sense the very fabric of Silas’ arm in the attack. The angle the position and the termination point. It was a swing that would surely kill him outright. It was to say that Silas’ excellence in the blade and sword would be his failure to see clearly the full danger of his actions. Certainly his ‘shatterpoint’ faux would bring victory of the blade but it was what Silas failed to visualize that erred him so.
With Tormentous’ own free hand he shot forth and clasped his opponent’s sword hand wrist. Locking it down with an iron hold. Having lost position earlier with Jidai Maras, the fell blade was now in prime position to run the echani through and so the Darth stepped into his thrust with the tip of the blade roaring straight for Silas’ midsection.
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Highblade
Registered Member
08 May 2017 14:56 #15
It was almost beyond comprehension that Tormentous managed a defense of the all but unknown shatterpoint technique. However, the instant the momentum of his swing was halted Silas recognized the architect of his defeat. With the newly emergent pinnacle within the Vaapad form Silas lacked the mastery to compensate for the primal sentience of the Jidai Maras. The apex of Tormentous’s talent for the archaic art of Sith Alchemy, the cursed blade had granted its master the necessary foresight to avert the lethal arc of Silas’s sapphire blade.
In shocked horror Silas assessed potential counters to the looming disaster that played out before him. With a lock on his main hand Tormentous was poised to skewer the Echani noble and alongside his own diminished strength thanks to fatigue from the lengthy duel, Silas quickly discounted a parry of the incoming sith sword. ‘Only one option,’ Silas reluctantly acknowledged. With all the velocity he could manage Silas positioned his off-hand immediately in front of Tormentous’s chest. As the fiery crimson Jidai Maras closed in on its target Silas funneled the totality of the Force at his command urgently to his free hand.
Though the precision of his telekinetic offerings had always lag behind the volume and density of Silas’s techniques were retained. As such Silas’s volley slammed into Tormentous so intensely it was remarkable the Sith was not torn asunder. Yet, the almost mythical strength of the Mandalorian turned dark lord allowed Tormentous to withstand the initial volley and beyond that hold firm his grasp of Silas’s main-hand. As the telekinetic energy skyrocketed, Tormentous thrust the Jidai Maras toward Silas’s own chest.
The moment the demonic blade made contact with Silas’s armor the force behind the battlemaster’s volley finally overcame his opponent. Knifing upward, diagonally across Silas’s breastplate the crimson blade of Jidai Maras was by mere fractions of millimeters denied the Echani’s flesh as the warring pair of Silas and Tormentous were almost crushed with a shockwave comparable to a concussion grenade. In that moment the light was swept away from Silas’s eyes as he lost consciousness. The eruption of Silas’s telekinetic blast ruptured the ground as it slammed both opponents’ meters away from its focal point.
Silas his self was dragged across the barren landscape as his coat was shredded off from his armor. The impact was so immense that both Silas’s lightsaber and Tormentous’s sword were likely lost in the exchange. Moments later the arid air of Korriban renewed itself within Silas as he slowly shook from his prone position. Coughing dust from his lungs, bleeding from several contusions, and fatigued from a torturously long engagement Silas rose slowly to his feet. The image of his foe blurred in the distance as Silas struggled to recover focus.
Unwilling to accept his fate having been so close to a monumental upset Silas called the Force to his hands as he readied a final, desperate measure. ‘H…how could he have surpassed me to this degree? I once defeated this man without access to any of my formative arms. Now it appears as if I hold not a candle to the full depth of his combat capability. I am sure should this contest continue within the realm of the Force I will fall before him.’ Silas fumed furiously. Stretching out his left hand while bracing it with his right Silas targeted the darkened blur that represented his detestable rival, “Only one way…”
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
17 May 2017 15:46 #16
Just like that it was gone - the alchemical link that had been conducted by Silas Karn’s physical contact with the hellblade had vanished, worn away by the ferocity that it took to strike out and seize the opportunity. Only echoes remained, faint whispers of the past that receded as a lost memory, faded into dust. Though here it came now, the thrust that would send this blasted echani to hell and beyond! Aimed for his heart, it came with the full force that Tormentous’ physical form could bring. The Sith Lords of old screamed in delight as they sensed the end of a noble whose blood would pool at their feet. A glorious death at the climax of a battle fit for kings.
Though despite the obvious conclusion, the echani lord seemed to have other notions about when and where he would meet his fate. To say Silas Karn was a child in the Discipline of Alteration compared to Tormentous was a literal understatement - the Darth could pop Karn like a zit and there’d be nothing the platinum crowned man could do about it. That wasn’t to say Silas was a weakling of the Force by any means. He was a master and well measured beyond by many means of the title, but his telekinesis - it was a pithy thing.
That said, it surprised the Lord of Calamity when such an attack was produced by one so inept. It was apparent that he’d perhaps learned to tap into the emotional threads of the Dark Side’s power. In fact it was obvious that he had and that was exactly how he’d managed to feature his talents in an aspect far beyond his capacity. This meant one thing - Tormentous needed to get serious - and now!
A blast of ferocious energy slammed into both combatants and they were blown apart as if some concussive force propelled them away as like poles of a magnet would have. Darth Tormentous was flung away, landing a considerable distance from his echani foe and the impact of the telekinetic blow felt as if it had been a sledgehammer. He hit the dirt and skid to a halt, his lower half tipping off the edge of the balcony on which they stood while Jidai Maras flew into the air and was stabbed into the forehead of some ancient Sith Lord’s statue. There it remained, suspended fifteen feet in the air and glistening in the Korribani sun.
Rolling to the side, Tormentous actually began laughing. He’d not laughed in longer than he could remember and the sound was abrasive coming through the vocalized grate of his mask. He was so stunned that the echani had bested him in that scuffle that his mind found so much joy in the fight - as once he did long ago.
He rose to his feet and inspected his equipment. The cloak was torn to ribbons - he cast it off with a few rips of the cloth and let it flutter away in the breeze. His armor was cracked along the breastplate, such was Silas impressive attack. Knowing it’d do him no further good he stripped the plate away and let it clatter to the ground. His mask was damaged and was no longer filtering the oxygen through it, again he removed a piece of his gear and dropped it to the ground.
For the first time Darth Tormentous was revealed in full. He now wore only form fitting trousers with their armored plates still intact, the boots and belt as well. His fore arms and gauntlets were still contained in heavy armor and his shoulders and upper arms. But his upper body was now lain bare to the world. Covered in war’s passage, scars ran their length as war maps and his musculature was shown to be supreme. With a chest as round as a barrel and arms and legs like tree trunks, Tormentous was an even more imposing figure half naked. Now he would not be hindered by the limiting movement of armor.
With concentrated movements he dropped the upper arm and shoulder plates, leaving minimal protection and maximum agility. The echani would no longer enjoy the grace and unchallenged movement range he once did. Now he’d find his match from a man who wore heavy armor and had shorn his second skin.
Tormentous’ face was one of a saga’s sad story. The noble features of a hard man still rode his flesh but now it was covered in the Dark Side’s corruption. Pale skin, darkened veins, sunken eyes and the scar over his right eye seemed more pronounced than before. His right eye was pearly white and reflected Silas’ image. The left was a molten sea of yellow fury. “It has been a long time since someone has truly made me go the distance. You ought to be proud echani, for I still remain in my decision that once I crush you, I shall still keep you alive as my subject.”
He began walking towards his opponent. The wind came to blast him with a thousand needles and he only smiled back to its caress. He could easily call his sword to him, but part of him desired to beat the pulp out of this echani and feel fists breaking bone. The ultimate defeat of Silas Karn was not in the sword or the Force, but by the hand in single combat.
“Enough he exclaimed,” speaking towards his opponent as he sense a preparation to use some ability, “this ends now, Karn.” To emphasize his will upon this lesser being he brewed forth his terrifying aura to crush Silas as he walked forth. (Waves of Darkness).
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Highblade
Registered Member
22 Jun 2017 13:54 #17
With heavy breaths Silas stared down his foe assured of his own victory. The technique the Echani lord had mastered at worst would deafen Tormentous to the Force and at best might go so far as to temporarily sever the Sith his connection altogether. The former Mandalorian was undaunted by the dramatic shift in tone for such a pivotal confrontation, as with almost amusement Tormentous discarded his tattered armaments. Having already surmised the disparity in their respective depths of supernatural energies Silas took the brief period of inaction to hone and refine the nature of his intended art.
As soon as the Sith had finished removing his gear he raised his voice to an all-too familiar resonance within Silas’s ears. The voice did not reflect that of Tormentous but rather it was in the proper nuances of Jacobi Wylcott. The shape of the contest took a sharp turn as well. No longer bearing the visage of the dark lord he had become, Tormentous now faced off with Silas in what was perhaps his purest form. “It has been a long time…” Silas could feel the last vestiges of the dark side energies he had called forth erupt from the dim embers of his soul alongside the anger ignited just from the continued presence and audacity of his oldest rival.
As the citrine gleam slowly renewed itself in Silas’s eyes the intensity of his technique magnified as it began to encircle to Sith. In stark defiance of Silas’s perceived proceeding chain of events, Tormentous decried his intentions, “Enough!” Silas held back the fruition of his art in the wake of the stern figure’s own as the crucible of darkness at the core of the Sith stirred. ‘It’s now or never, I can secure my advantage if only I strike now,’ Silas calculated as Tormentous began to walk toward him with now obvious intentions of a hand-to-hand contest. Before the powerful discharge could reach Silas the wise Echani warrior collapsed the negating field of his own technique down upon Tormentous. However, Silas did so only to the point of reaching the Sith’s flesh and rebuking the waves of darkside energy.
Tormentous’s words and intent had reached deep within Silas and called to a heritage that the Echani had not indulged his self in over a cycle. As Tormentous continued toward his hated foe Silas lowered his left arm and shifted his stance. To Silas the call from his blood felt distant and unfamiliar it had seemed a lifetime of events had passed since he had last paid heed to his natural instincts unfettered by duty or regard for a larger more dynamic view of the circumstances at hand. Tormentous wished to determine the victor of the crucial duel through unarmed combat and as the man bereft of his darker trappings embodied the Mandalorian culture of his upbringing, Silas could not deny the Sith such a fitting end to the contest between them. Pivoting off his primary foot Silas lowered his stance as he narrowed his visible profile to suit the famed battle stance of his race. “Yes, enough,” Silas finally answered Tormentous’s implied challenge.
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
22 Jun 2017 15:15 #18
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Galactic Doughnuts
Registered Member
22 Jun 2017 15:16 #19
His harrowing walk never faltered and he approached the echani noble with the raw ire and disposition that conflicted with the two ever since their first meeting in the cantina when Jacobi Wylcott dashed Silas with frothy ale and pitched him out the window - granted, Tormentous held none of these memories but his emotions were fueled by the past rivalry ever the same. He came forth as a dragon of mighty fury and delivered the first strike. A drilling punch given form from the hip to the shoulder and aimed squarely towards Karn’s chest with enough bone crushing force to hammer iron.
Jacobi Wylcott had been born on Rhen Var, he had endured the harsh climate for enough years to hew a survivor from his stone-like form. When the Ordo came, they butchered his family and took the younglings as trophies. They brought him to the Demon Moon itself - Dxun. There he was forced to truly survive. At first and for the longest time he felt the purest of hatreds for his captors but as the years went by and the martial skills and survivalist began to take shape within him - his thinking began to mold in that the strongest were worthy of life, these Ordos were forging him and testing him daily to discover if he was strong enough to be worthy of that life.
They shore every weakness from his mind and tempered his body into a ruthless killing machine that lusted for battle and thrived in war. His age increased and the savagery in his blood intensified until not even Dxun could hold him back. He hunted the most fearsome predators and drank from their blood, wearing trophies of the mighty fiends of the sky and the horrors of the deep. After Dxun, once the Ordo made him one of their own - he began a hunter of man, the most cunning of all prey.
This singular punch held his heritage within its core as he threw it at the echani noble. Lightning fast and dauntingly powerful. A strike hewn from marble and carved from the fiercest granite known. Jacobi Wylcott, he was made for this moment. When a battle rang out to sing its song of deliverance, there would Jacobi be. Where the fires were the hottest and shot and shell rang against the armor of the fates, Jacobi would be there.
Jacobi Wylcott was war incarnate - and Silas was about to remember why this was so.
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Highblade
Registered Member
11 Jul 2017 17:58 #20
Reaching the peak of his naturally honed senses and focus Silas could easily read Tormentous’s intent, approach, and point of attack. With the full breadth of the Sith’s immense physical strength channeled into a single strike it was obvious to Silas that the strike could not be properly deflected. Though almost matched in overall speed Silas’s natural superior dexterity would allow the Echani to evade the attack but doing so would not allow positioning for a counterattack. With Tormentous superior strength matching the attack in an attempt to parry the blow would be met only with the loss of positioning and potentially a prone landing.
It was then the inspiration to allow Tormentous’s strike to take its intended purchase in order to deliver an uncontested attack of his own lit Silas’s consciousness. ‘This will likely decide the entire course of this contest as there is no return from accepting such an intense fist as Jacobi’s,’ Silas mused with a slight grin pursing his lips. Signifying the fulfillment of this tactic a thunderous echo rippled out across the barren landscape of Korriban as Tormentous’s vicious strike connected directly under the armored plates that guarded Silas’s chest.
The immense kinetic burst erupted upon the light weave that held fast the plating of Silas’s heirloom battlemaster armor. A former Mandalorian and a virtual deity of war Tormentous shattered two of Silas’s ribs while bruising several adjacent. The contest between the two rivals might have ended in convincing favor for the Sith Lord were it not for Silas’s strategy upon witnessing the Dxun born warrior’s own. With equal fervor Silas harnessed the almost lethal momentum offered by Tormentous’s charge into an arcing right cross bearing the totality of the battlemaster’s will.
Even as his own lungs were crushed and his breath forced from his lips Silas poured all his focus on delivering the most impactful blow he was capable of. As both men completed their respective opening attacks the sheer force behind their blows pushed each other almost a full meter in separation apart. Outside of perhaps a busted lip it was all but impossible for Silas to truly measure the damage he had dealt to the Sith leader even as his own breathing was now accompanied by sharp pangs of miserably unyielding pain. What was apparent was neither opening assault had brought the contest to an early close, nor that victory likely could only be decided by complete devastation to the point of absolute incapacitation of Tormentous in order to secure it.
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Rise of Sovereign
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Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: Rise of Sovereign
Blood ran from his face, his mouth was covered in the red life fluid, his teeth tainted in reddish yellow as he snarled at the Echani Lord’s strike. Far from undone, he barred himself upright and moved in with a proper fighting pose. This match would not be decided by brute force or cunning by contrast - but rather by the fortitude of two men who’d made their story the stuff of legends. Here, two champions had come together to seek out their better and here, only one would remain standing. The other, he would taste cold and bitter defeat before the end and once done so, he would find himself at the mercy of his lord. Whether it be Silas’ triumph and Tormentous’ fall or in reverse, only one would drink from the cup of victory today.
A long time this fight had been brewing. From across the stars they both had cut bloody paths of carnage. It was only inevitable that someday they would encroach upon one another in a singular duel of the fates. It was to Tormentous’ pride and Silas’ woe that it was to be on a world that the Sith controlled and a place where Tormentous would soon rename as his fortress.
Here, amid the sand blasted ruins - these two titans had come to do battle.
A long time this fight had been brewing. From across the stars they both had cut bloody paths of carnage. It was only inevitable that someday they would encroach upon one another in a singular duel of the fates. It was to Tormentous’ pride and Silas’ woe that it was to be on a world that the Sith controlled and a place where Tormentous would soon rename as his fortress.
Here, amid the sand blasted ruins - these two titans had come to do battle.
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Ben Kenobi
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Re: Rise of Sovereign
Bone and Sinew
It was not a brawl of two brutish thugs nor was it the fencing of gentlemen, this was a bout of two absolute experts in their field of martial combat. One with a focus on defense and the arrogance of superiority, the other devoid of any form of conventional rules and only directed towards the destruction of his foe. They were here to settle a score that had long been brewing between them. From many cycles ago, these two foes had met on battlefields stretching across the Galaxy far and wide, now it had come down to a finality. This was no longer for the defense of a people nor was it over the strategic positioning of a hyperlane or the strategic resources of a world. This was the simple truth of one warrior versus the other in a fight that would decide who among them was the better man.
No distractions, no politics, nothing to hold them back. This culmination of their history was destiny weaving the fates of stars and spelling the future for these two men. Cruel as it normally was, destiny had come to rear its ugly face and grant these two the setting of their doom. They would fight amidst a world covered in the graves of a bygone era and stricken with destruction in every single age in which it had survived. Now, Korriban would be the course in which this meat grinder played out.
Until one of these combatants fell, war had come to Korriban and it was an unforgiving host.
The Echani High Lord, a Battlemaster of the highest tier, capable of anticipation and reaction the likes an extreme few had ever seen in the entire Galaxy. Silas Karn, his armor discarded and his weapons gone from sight and sense alike, his only weapons now were that which his body gifted him with and he fell into a stance befitting the honor of his station and the elegance of his race. Back straight, knees bent, left arm out in front in a two finger lead, right arm cocked back and high with knuckles poised to strike a deadly blow that could obliterate ninety percent of any foe he’d typically faced throughout his illustrious career. His balance was supreme and his attention to the foe was without compromise.
Sweat already caked his face and the platinum strands of hair crowning his head were stuck to his skin, matted with dirt and grime. Though the breeze was still strong enough to kick lengths up to snap in its hold, it was as if it was a blow dryer being blasted across this valley and gifted no slight comforts this day. Sand whisked by, stinging the bare skin of his body, though it failed to even breach Silas’ level of concentration. He felt nothing but the moment. For nothing else mattered to him than what was occurring right now. Eshan was long and far away, the Empire a distant burning memory, his sister vanished to the whim of fate itself…
For Silas Karn, this moment had become his life.
No more than thirty feet away stood a monster that looked more enormous without his armor than he did with it. Muscles so hard and drawn they were as steel cords stretched to their limit. Bare chest smeared with the mud and grime of Korriban’s sand, he was just as drenched in sweat as his opponent though like his foe, he was impartial to the effects baring down upon him. This moment in time, it was the closest that Jacobi Wylcott had ever come to taking back his consciousness from Darth Tormentous. Without the tools of his misery, he was free of its encumbrance and even physically he had a look about him that reminded Silas of the days of the legendary Mandalorian Warrior who lived for nothing more than the adrenaline of battle and the heat of combat.
His stance was differing from Silas’ as this was no Echani Battlemaster but it was the form of an elite hand to hand fighter. His knees were bent, good footing and back brought forward into a near crouch with both hands out in front balled into fists though not white knuckled for he was relaxed. Tormentous came from the Demon Moon where fighting was the means of daily survival, instincts born of Dxun left those who survived as natural fighters, those who embraced it was Wylcott had; they became something entirely different.
Without remorse, he fought with passion and fire. There was honor in hand to hand combat though there was no honor in the act. There was only glorious victory and the route that was taken to get there mattered little. It was the sheer simplicity of his strategy; destroy the enemy by any means. Incapacitate and disarm. Do the most extreme damage to the opponent possible in the least amount of time. Kill. Kill. Kill… Mantras of a bloody killer and a warfighter. Jacobi Wylcott behind the controls of Darth Tormentous was to be a terrifying force to be seen… and Silas Karn was the audience and the main event alike.
Tormentous eyed Jidai Maras from the corner of his eye, his will desired to pull it to him and strike Silas down with a single stroke and then butcher the Echani just like Starr. But something stayed his hand, it was the roaring defiance of Wylcott. The Mandalorian inside of Tormentous refused to allow the Sith Lord to defy him this time. This moment would not be taken from Jacobi. This moment would be relished and savored…
No words needed to be spoken at this point. Both knew what was to come.
They sprang into action! A charge brought them within melee range, the beating of feet on the dried, sand blasted stone echoed across the valley floor. Silas leapt high into the air outstretching both feet in a spinning drop kick. He looked like a corkscrewing projectile screaming through the dusty air. At their comparable speeds dodging seemed impossible, and so it was. Though the Mandalorian blocked with both forearms and sidestepped the impact zone. Boots scrapped across flesh as Tormentous twisted on his heel to reface his foe while Silas unfurled from his spin and landed with the grace of a dancer. Somehow his toe touched the ground and launched him forward as if he’d been on a springboard. Rocketing forth he sent several lightning strikes at soft targets, his opponent back pedaled after taking a single knuckled strike to the inside of his elbow, no other strikes managed to land and once Tormentous stopped the momentum surge by his foe, he launched his own counter-offensive.
Silas was angered by his failure to incapacitate his opponent in the outset though part of him failed to be disappointed. He wanted to win but he desired to prove his superiority above all. Tormentous’ attacks came as blows of a sledge hammer, Silas was only so foolish to outright block a single throw. A straight punch targeting the Echani’s core, the platinum haired fighter shifted his weight on the rear foot and caught the punch in his left hand, bracing his wrist with the backhand of his right and staunchly attempting to thwart the blow entirely whilst seizing limb control.
To his surprise the punch was deafeningly powerful and the left hand went numb instantly. While Silas did not relent, he was shoved backwards and off balance. Instantly he cursed himself for such foolhardy arrogance and he corrected his mistake swiftly. With a tingling and likely bruised left hand he received the next hammering blow though this time he turned his wrist inward and let the blow glance off his backhand to the forearm. It did not kill Tormentous’ momentum such as a block would, but it also denied the damage of the landed blow.
More blows came in like from a piston. Silas, uncompromisingly focused, did not panic and instead he sat within the eye of the storm. Strikes flew by his face and glanced off his forearms with such speed that he felt and heard the wind from them. Unphased, he dodged, evaded and parried his way back. Behind him was the ledge with a large drop, a statue of some forgotten Sith Lord stood there as well and as soon as Silas’ heel edged into the statue he turned and shot towards the plinth of sand stone. Tormentous lost his balance as his target practically vanished from sight though he did not hit the statue or risk falling off the ledge. Silas gripped the side of the statue and spun himself around it using the momentum gained by the swing to launch himself as Tormentous.
It caught the Sith Lord unawares, a double kick to the side of the face. The strike came from his right side, being blind, he never saw it coming. Striking him hard and full on the blow toppled the Sith Lord and cast him aside. Truthfully, not expecting the blow to land, Silas was also taken unawares and he tumbled away too and landed awkwardly, rolling him right ankle as he did so. Silas recovered and stood, fighting to ignore the stinging pain and cursed himself again for a lost opportunity. If he wasn’t busy recovering then he could have pressed home the advantage of downing an opponent.
Taking the blow in stride the Sith Lord rolled down to his shoulder and leapt back to his feet. Then the damage of the impact began to set in and he saw stars, his equilibrium disintegrated into unbalance and his feet failed to keep him totally upright. He staggered down, catching himself on the statue and stumbling to the ground. His fist planted on the sand, he looked upwards and his hatred alone forced his eye to focus on Silas again. He seethed with anger, his body changing a shade of red with effort. Silas saw the window and he moved to strike out, his right ankle pierced pain through him and he stumbled ever so slightly; he kept his stance and his face was devoid of the aggravation he felt at not being able to end this.
Tormentous rose to his feet and came at Silas in a flurry of devastating blows. Standing his ground for a moment, Silas managed to see the hits coming and he again managed to deftly swat them aside using limb manipulation and parries to his benefit. But to saw Tormentous saw just a brawler was to vastly underestimate him. Seeing his opponent was capable of thwarting the straight in attacks, he knew it was only a matter of time before Silas seized a wrist and did some severe damage. Tormentous stepped in. Silas saw the maneuver and with the near range he delivered unto Tormentous his punishment at forcing a closer range where he hadn’t earned it. A trio of blows blitzed through Tormentous’ defenses; two landing again on the inside of the right elbow and the third slamming into the soft tissue and muscle of the right shoulder joint along the nervous section. Numbing pain surged down Tormentous’ right arm and the blow had done its work, rendering the right arm briefly beyond control. Though to Tormentous’ strategy this was an acceptable loss.
He came forward and fish hooked around Silas’ head. Effortlessly the Echani made to spin aside and free himself of his foe… though his ankle screamed in defiance and he stumbled. Tormentous caught him from falling and Silas tried to duck away, he was met by a long knee towards the face. Such a devastating blow would surely end him so he too stepped into his foe and let the strike take him square in the chest. What a blow it was, the air left him and he was sure he felt something crack inside. Ignoring this he sent two strikes to Tormentous’ vulnerable ribcage, stinging blows that brought grunts of pain from the Lord of Darkness. Unwilling to release Silas, Tormentous took another two blows to the same area and now the flesh was beat red and bruising. The Sith shoved forward and sent a massive headbutt to Silas, the Echani had an instant to react and all he could manage was to turn his face aside. The crown of Tormentous’ head slammed into the left cheek of Karn and sent the Echani Lord sprawling. Stars blasted into his view, his senses distorted by the shock and impact.
He hit the ground hard, rolling away but more or less managing to flop aside in a much less elegant fashion. Tormentous came in and sent an immediate ax kick targeting Silas’ face. Sensing the danger before seeing, Silas slithered away just in time before the blow landed, it likely would have incapacitated him right then and there… if not killed him for the force of such a distinct heel attack was capable of massive head trauma.
Executing the ax stomp though delayed Tormentous’ progression and granted Silas precious seconds to recover his wits. With blood streaming from a large cut on his cheek that was deep enough to show bone, he rolled upwards and to a kneeling position, poised to react rather than clumsily defend. Tormentous came in and delivered a straight kick to Silas’ midsection, the Echani anticipated it; capturing the kick with both hands he trapped the ankle and then fell to his shoulder, spinning as he went. Twisting around, Tormentous was brought to the ground and he slammed back first. Silas pounced into a somersault and landed straddling the Sith in a fighter’s mount. Tormentous only had moments to bring up his arms as Silas began raining down swift strikes. Blow after blow impacted the target before he managed a defense and once Tormentous brought his arms up, Silas made his move. He seized the recovering right arm of his foe by the wrist and stood from his mounted position, wrapping his leg around the limb he pulled Tormentous’ arm between his legs and rolled to the ground perpendicular to Tormentous’ body. Using leverage from his hips he pulled on the wrist and threatened to dislocate the Sith’s arm entirely.
A roar of pain exhumed from the Sith Lord and Silas only fought more to disarm his opponent. They struggled a moment, Tormentous’ unearthly strength picked Silas up entirely but the Echani sent a heel kick to his chest and secured the position. In that same motion Silas managed all the leverage he needed and Tormentous’ arm popped in a sickly movement. Silas rolled away in triumph, balancing back into a crouch though favoring his ankle. Tormentous rolled half to his left, the right arm useless at his side. Silas was waiting for his opponent to rise now… A true mistake to assume he was winning this fight and had the advantage enough to allow his opponent back to his feet. The desire to beat Tormentous until there was no fight left, no question but Silas’ supremacy and sovereign power. It was too great.
Slowly Tormentous staggered to his feet, hunched over and right arm dangling. He looked into Silas’ eyes with pure hatred. Silas arrogantly approached, his victory assured. As he got within range his hand shot forward intending to batter his foe back to the ground, but this time it was Tormentous leading his opponent into a trap. His left hand came up and knocked Silas’ strike away and then shot inward to the Echani’s throat. The strike was mitigated, possibly the only reason the windpipe wasn’t crushed. Silas staggered back, stunned. He grasped his throat in utter surprise as Tormentous advance. He moved in fast and hard, sending pinpoint elbow strikes to Silas’ already damaged midsection, it spent his held air and now the dire straits brought Silas to one knee where another striking elbow came around and slammed into the side of his head.
Karn crumbled to the ground and Tormentous now mounted his foe, his left hand grasped Silas’ face and his thumb pressed into the Echani’s eye socket. The pressure on Silas’ skull was so intense, he felt the orbit of his eye begin to rupture, blood leaked from the orb and Tormentous roared with anger as he made to press down hard and finish this once and for all.
Just as he did, however, Silas spit out a distorted and rough, scream of defiance and rage of his own, lighting emanated from his hands and wrapped Tormentous in a sheet of energy. It flung the Sith Lord away into the distance, leaving Silas exhausted and bodily shattered.
The Sith flew back, hitting the statue and crumbling to the ground. There he sat, equally exhausted and worn to the bone. Barely enough strength he looked up, body smoking from burns all across him. Seeing Silas prone on the ground gave him strength and his lifted himself up to his feet. He staggered roughly over to his foe, reached up with his left hand a summoning the vile energies of Korriban to him. In moments a dread energy formed upon his hand, it ate the residual power of Karn’s lighting and it devoured all existing hope. Silas looked upon it and knew, he held no further sway on this battle.
A vile technique of chaos wrapped over Tormentous’ hand as he prepared to deliver the final act. Silas saw his own Destruction before him. He knew no defense would gird him here. If this attack landed, there wouldn’t be anything left of him to send home in a tin can. Not fearing his fate but recognizing it, he would face his end with humility.
Struggling to rise, he made it to one knee where he raised his gaze upwards to defiantly look upon Tormentous one final time. “It is finished.” He exclaimed, and accepted death…
Tormentous bellowed in triumph and Silas could hear the wailing lamentation of the Galaxy as the Dark One balled his fist in victory and extinguished the fire of Destruction.
Jacobi Wylcott (Darth Tormentous) VS. Silas Karn
Victorious
Darth Tormentous
25 EXP
80,000 cr
Defeated
Silas Karn
5 EXP
10,000 cr
It was not a brawl of two brutish thugs nor was it the fencing of gentlemen, this was a bout of two absolute experts in their field of martial combat. One with a focus on defense and the arrogance of superiority, the other devoid of any form of conventional rules and only directed towards the destruction of his foe. They were here to settle a score that had long been brewing between them. From many cycles ago, these two foes had met on battlefields stretching across the Galaxy far and wide, now it had come down to a finality. This was no longer for the defense of a people nor was it over the strategic positioning of a hyperlane or the strategic resources of a world. This was the simple truth of one warrior versus the other in a fight that would decide who among them was the better man.
No distractions, no politics, nothing to hold them back. This culmination of their history was destiny weaving the fates of stars and spelling the future for these two men. Cruel as it normally was, destiny had come to rear its ugly face and grant these two the setting of their doom. They would fight amidst a world covered in the graves of a bygone era and stricken with destruction in every single age in which it had survived. Now, Korriban would be the course in which this meat grinder played out.
Until one of these combatants fell, war had come to Korriban and it was an unforgiving host.
The Echani High Lord, a Battlemaster of the highest tier, capable of anticipation and reaction the likes an extreme few had ever seen in the entire Galaxy. Silas Karn, his armor discarded and his weapons gone from sight and sense alike, his only weapons now were that which his body gifted him with and he fell into a stance befitting the honor of his station and the elegance of his race. Back straight, knees bent, left arm out in front in a two finger lead, right arm cocked back and high with knuckles poised to strike a deadly blow that could obliterate ninety percent of any foe he’d typically faced throughout his illustrious career. His balance was supreme and his attention to the foe was without compromise.
Sweat already caked his face and the platinum strands of hair crowning his head were stuck to his skin, matted with dirt and grime. Though the breeze was still strong enough to kick lengths up to snap in its hold, it was as if it was a blow dryer being blasted across this valley and gifted no slight comforts this day. Sand whisked by, stinging the bare skin of his body, though it failed to even breach Silas’ level of concentration. He felt nothing but the moment. For nothing else mattered to him than what was occurring right now. Eshan was long and far away, the Empire a distant burning memory, his sister vanished to the whim of fate itself…
For Silas Karn, this moment had become his life.
No more than thirty feet away stood a monster that looked more enormous without his armor than he did with it. Muscles so hard and drawn they were as steel cords stretched to their limit. Bare chest smeared with the mud and grime of Korriban’s sand, he was just as drenched in sweat as his opponent though like his foe, he was impartial to the effects baring down upon him. This moment in time, it was the closest that Jacobi Wylcott had ever come to taking back his consciousness from Darth Tormentous. Without the tools of his misery, he was free of its encumbrance and even physically he had a look about him that reminded Silas of the days of the legendary Mandalorian Warrior who lived for nothing more than the adrenaline of battle and the heat of combat.
His stance was differing from Silas’ as this was no Echani Battlemaster but it was the form of an elite hand to hand fighter. His knees were bent, good footing and back brought forward into a near crouch with both hands out in front balled into fists though not white knuckled for he was relaxed. Tormentous came from the Demon Moon where fighting was the means of daily survival, instincts born of Dxun left those who survived as natural fighters, those who embraced it was Wylcott had; they became something entirely different.
Without remorse, he fought with passion and fire. There was honor in hand to hand combat though there was no honor in the act. There was only glorious victory and the route that was taken to get there mattered little. It was the sheer simplicity of his strategy; destroy the enemy by any means. Incapacitate and disarm. Do the most extreme damage to the opponent possible in the least amount of time. Kill. Kill. Kill… Mantras of a bloody killer and a warfighter. Jacobi Wylcott behind the controls of Darth Tormentous was to be a terrifying force to be seen… and Silas Karn was the audience and the main event alike.
Tormentous eyed Jidai Maras from the corner of his eye, his will desired to pull it to him and strike Silas down with a single stroke and then butcher the Echani just like Starr. But something stayed his hand, it was the roaring defiance of Wylcott. The Mandalorian inside of Tormentous refused to allow the Sith Lord to defy him this time. This moment would not be taken from Jacobi. This moment would be relished and savored…
No words needed to be spoken at this point. Both knew what was to come.
They sprang into action! A charge brought them within melee range, the beating of feet on the dried, sand blasted stone echoed across the valley floor. Silas leapt high into the air outstretching both feet in a spinning drop kick. He looked like a corkscrewing projectile screaming through the dusty air. At their comparable speeds dodging seemed impossible, and so it was. Though the Mandalorian blocked with both forearms and sidestepped the impact zone. Boots scrapped across flesh as Tormentous twisted on his heel to reface his foe while Silas unfurled from his spin and landed with the grace of a dancer. Somehow his toe touched the ground and launched him forward as if he’d been on a springboard. Rocketing forth he sent several lightning strikes at soft targets, his opponent back pedaled after taking a single knuckled strike to the inside of his elbow, no other strikes managed to land and once Tormentous stopped the momentum surge by his foe, he launched his own counter-offensive.
Silas was angered by his failure to incapacitate his opponent in the outset though part of him failed to be disappointed. He wanted to win but he desired to prove his superiority above all. Tormentous’ attacks came as blows of a sledge hammer, Silas was only so foolish to outright block a single throw. A straight punch targeting the Echani’s core, the platinum haired fighter shifted his weight on the rear foot and caught the punch in his left hand, bracing his wrist with the backhand of his right and staunchly attempting to thwart the blow entirely whilst seizing limb control.
To his surprise the punch was deafeningly powerful and the left hand went numb instantly. While Silas did not relent, he was shoved backwards and off balance. Instantly he cursed himself for such foolhardy arrogance and he corrected his mistake swiftly. With a tingling and likely bruised left hand he received the next hammering blow though this time he turned his wrist inward and let the blow glance off his backhand to the forearm. It did not kill Tormentous’ momentum such as a block would, but it also denied the damage of the landed blow.
More blows came in like from a piston. Silas, uncompromisingly focused, did not panic and instead he sat within the eye of the storm. Strikes flew by his face and glanced off his forearms with such speed that he felt and heard the wind from them. Unphased, he dodged, evaded and parried his way back. Behind him was the ledge with a large drop, a statue of some forgotten Sith Lord stood there as well and as soon as Silas’ heel edged into the statue he turned and shot towards the plinth of sand stone. Tormentous lost his balance as his target practically vanished from sight though he did not hit the statue or risk falling off the ledge. Silas gripped the side of the statue and spun himself around it using the momentum gained by the swing to launch himself as Tormentous.
It caught the Sith Lord unawares, a double kick to the side of the face. The strike came from his right side, being blind, he never saw it coming. Striking him hard and full on the blow toppled the Sith Lord and cast him aside. Truthfully, not expecting the blow to land, Silas was also taken unawares and he tumbled away too and landed awkwardly, rolling him right ankle as he did so. Silas recovered and stood, fighting to ignore the stinging pain and cursed himself again for a lost opportunity. If he wasn’t busy recovering then he could have pressed home the advantage of downing an opponent.
Taking the blow in stride the Sith Lord rolled down to his shoulder and leapt back to his feet. Then the damage of the impact began to set in and he saw stars, his equilibrium disintegrated into unbalance and his feet failed to keep him totally upright. He staggered down, catching himself on the statue and stumbling to the ground. His fist planted on the sand, he looked upwards and his hatred alone forced his eye to focus on Silas again. He seethed with anger, his body changing a shade of red with effort. Silas saw the window and he moved to strike out, his right ankle pierced pain through him and he stumbled ever so slightly; he kept his stance and his face was devoid of the aggravation he felt at not being able to end this.
Tormentous rose to his feet and came at Silas in a flurry of devastating blows. Standing his ground for a moment, Silas managed to see the hits coming and he again managed to deftly swat them aside using limb manipulation and parries to his benefit. But to saw Tormentous saw just a brawler was to vastly underestimate him. Seeing his opponent was capable of thwarting the straight in attacks, he knew it was only a matter of time before Silas seized a wrist and did some severe damage. Tormentous stepped in. Silas saw the maneuver and with the near range he delivered unto Tormentous his punishment at forcing a closer range where he hadn’t earned it. A trio of blows blitzed through Tormentous’ defenses; two landing again on the inside of the right elbow and the third slamming into the soft tissue and muscle of the right shoulder joint along the nervous section. Numbing pain surged down Tormentous’ right arm and the blow had done its work, rendering the right arm briefly beyond control. Though to Tormentous’ strategy this was an acceptable loss.
He came forward and fish hooked around Silas’ head. Effortlessly the Echani made to spin aside and free himself of his foe… though his ankle screamed in defiance and he stumbled. Tormentous caught him from falling and Silas tried to duck away, he was met by a long knee towards the face. Such a devastating blow would surely end him so he too stepped into his foe and let the strike take him square in the chest. What a blow it was, the air left him and he was sure he felt something crack inside. Ignoring this he sent two strikes to Tormentous’ vulnerable ribcage, stinging blows that brought grunts of pain from the Lord of Darkness. Unwilling to release Silas, Tormentous took another two blows to the same area and now the flesh was beat red and bruising. The Sith shoved forward and sent a massive headbutt to Silas, the Echani had an instant to react and all he could manage was to turn his face aside. The crown of Tormentous’ head slammed into the left cheek of Karn and sent the Echani Lord sprawling. Stars blasted into his view, his senses distorted by the shock and impact.
He hit the ground hard, rolling away but more or less managing to flop aside in a much less elegant fashion. Tormentous came in and sent an immediate ax kick targeting Silas’ face. Sensing the danger before seeing, Silas slithered away just in time before the blow landed, it likely would have incapacitated him right then and there… if not killed him for the force of such a distinct heel attack was capable of massive head trauma.
Executing the ax stomp though delayed Tormentous’ progression and granted Silas precious seconds to recover his wits. With blood streaming from a large cut on his cheek that was deep enough to show bone, he rolled upwards and to a kneeling position, poised to react rather than clumsily defend. Tormentous came in and delivered a straight kick to Silas’ midsection, the Echani anticipated it; capturing the kick with both hands he trapped the ankle and then fell to his shoulder, spinning as he went. Twisting around, Tormentous was brought to the ground and he slammed back first. Silas pounced into a somersault and landed straddling the Sith in a fighter’s mount. Tormentous only had moments to bring up his arms as Silas began raining down swift strikes. Blow after blow impacted the target before he managed a defense and once Tormentous brought his arms up, Silas made his move. He seized the recovering right arm of his foe by the wrist and stood from his mounted position, wrapping his leg around the limb he pulled Tormentous’ arm between his legs and rolled to the ground perpendicular to Tormentous’ body. Using leverage from his hips he pulled on the wrist and threatened to dislocate the Sith’s arm entirely.
A roar of pain exhumed from the Sith Lord and Silas only fought more to disarm his opponent. They struggled a moment, Tormentous’ unearthly strength picked Silas up entirely but the Echani sent a heel kick to his chest and secured the position. In that same motion Silas managed all the leverage he needed and Tormentous’ arm popped in a sickly movement. Silas rolled away in triumph, balancing back into a crouch though favoring his ankle. Tormentous rolled half to his left, the right arm useless at his side. Silas was waiting for his opponent to rise now… A true mistake to assume he was winning this fight and had the advantage enough to allow his opponent back to his feet. The desire to beat Tormentous until there was no fight left, no question but Silas’ supremacy and sovereign power. It was too great.
Slowly Tormentous staggered to his feet, hunched over and right arm dangling. He looked into Silas’ eyes with pure hatred. Silas arrogantly approached, his victory assured. As he got within range his hand shot forward intending to batter his foe back to the ground, but this time it was Tormentous leading his opponent into a trap. His left hand came up and knocked Silas’ strike away and then shot inward to the Echani’s throat. The strike was mitigated, possibly the only reason the windpipe wasn’t crushed. Silas staggered back, stunned. He grasped his throat in utter surprise as Tormentous advance. He moved in fast and hard, sending pinpoint elbow strikes to Silas’ already damaged midsection, it spent his held air and now the dire straits brought Silas to one knee where another striking elbow came around and slammed into the side of his head.
Karn crumbled to the ground and Tormentous now mounted his foe, his left hand grasped Silas’ face and his thumb pressed into the Echani’s eye socket. The pressure on Silas’ skull was so intense, he felt the orbit of his eye begin to rupture, blood leaked from the orb and Tormentous roared with anger as he made to press down hard and finish this once and for all.
Just as he did, however, Silas spit out a distorted and rough, scream of defiance and rage of his own, lighting emanated from his hands and wrapped Tormentous in a sheet of energy. It flung the Sith Lord away into the distance, leaving Silas exhausted and bodily shattered.
The Sith flew back, hitting the statue and crumbling to the ground. There he sat, equally exhausted and worn to the bone. Barely enough strength he looked up, body smoking from burns all across him. Seeing Silas prone on the ground gave him strength and his lifted himself up to his feet. He staggered roughly over to his foe, reached up with his left hand a summoning the vile energies of Korriban to him. In moments a dread energy formed upon his hand, it ate the residual power of Karn’s lighting and it devoured all existing hope. Silas looked upon it and knew, he held no further sway on this battle.
A vile technique of chaos wrapped over Tormentous’ hand as he prepared to deliver the final act. Silas saw his own Destruction before him. He knew no defense would gird him here. If this attack landed, there wouldn’t be anything left of him to send home in a tin can. Not fearing his fate but recognizing it, he would face his end with humility.
Struggling to rise, he made it to one knee where he raised his gaze upwards to defiantly look upon Tormentous one final time. “It is finished.” He exclaimed, and accepted death…
Tormentous bellowed in triumph and Silas could hear the wailing lamentation of the Galaxy as the Dark One balled his fist in victory and extinguished the fire of Destruction.
Victorious
Darth Tormentous
25 EXP
80,000 cr
Defeated
Silas Karn
5 EXP
10,000 cr
-
Silas Karn
- Full Member
- Posts: 303
- Joined: Wed Oct 11, 2017 1:15 pm
Re: Rise of Sovereign
the-sith-order-f11/the-final-push-t551.html
Silas felt empty, completely devoid of the needed strength to as much as stand back up. Blood still seeped from his many contusions not least of which the terrible wounds to his once majestic face. With ragged, pained breaths Silas fought against the incredible ringing throbbing pangs echoing throughout his conscious mind robbing his focus thanks to Tormentous nearly shattering his left orbital socket and granting the battlemaster the gift of sightlessness.
Channeling the Force to an incredibly limited degree Silas touched his right hand to the wound. Sparks of vile ruby light shot forth from the Echani’s hand the burnt flesh influence by the dark art, produced a small cloud of smoke (Repair). A pained scream was torn from Silas’s lips as he endured the searing trauma of his own mending. Silas’s efforts likely saved his sight and more immediately allowed his mind a moment’s focus. Shaking his head Silas then placed his hand to his chest and grimaced under the duress absolute torturous agony. Almost immolating his own flesh, Silas unleashing another torrent of vile light.
The Force itself seemed to leave Silas as he could no longer harness its energies and the light faded beneath his hand. Attempting to stand brought mixed results as the proud Sovereign toppled over. With great patience Silas then turned to the resolute aura of the Dark Side that had sustained him over the arduous duel. A small flame ignited deep within the battlemaster’s core as Silas’s will, augmented by a defeat handed to him by his oldest rival. Straining seemingly every muscle in his body Silas defiantly rose to his feet once more, staring Tormentous directly in the face. Noticeably, Silas could no longer focus his left eye and was subsequently forced to close his eyelid in order to maintain his already shaky equilibrium.
Coughing sand and blood from his lungs Silas spoke to the phenomen from Dxun. “It’s been ages since I lost a battle to a singular opponent.” Silas’s words reeked of his own indignation in defeat. “What could have been has passed and you stand the victor. My life was forfeit and in withholding your vengeance I must presume you’ve a purpose for me.” Silas looked downward a moment in disgrace. “Darth Tormentous, for that is your name now. What do you wish of your newfound servant?” Silas looked back to the man who had in so many ways mirrored him. A dark reflection of their shared heritage in war.
Silas felt empty, completely devoid of the needed strength to as much as stand back up. Blood still seeped from his many contusions not least of which the terrible wounds to his once majestic face. With ragged, pained breaths Silas fought against the incredible ringing throbbing pangs echoing throughout his conscious mind robbing his focus thanks to Tormentous nearly shattering his left orbital socket and granting the battlemaster the gift of sightlessness.
Channeling the Force to an incredibly limited degree Silas touched his right hand to the wound. Sparks of vile ruby light shot forth from the Echani’s hand the burnt flesh influence by the dark art, produced a small cloud of smoke (Repair). A pained scream was torn from Silas’s lips as he endured the searing trauma of his own mending. Silas’s efforts likely saved his sight and more immediately allowed his mind a moment’s focus. Shaking his head Silas then placed his hand to his chest and grimaced under the duress absolute torturous agony. Almost immolating his own flesh, Silas unleashing another torrent of vile light.
The Force itself seemed to leave Silas as he could no longer harness its energies and the light faded beneath his hand. Attempting to stand brought mixed results as the proud Sovereign toppled over. With great patience Silas then turned to the resolute aura of the Dark Side that had sustained him over the arduous duel. A small flame ignited deep within the battlemaster’s core as Silas’s will, augmented by a defeat handed to him by his oldest rival. Straining seemingly every muscle in his body Silas defiantly rose to his feet once more, staring Tormentous directly in the face. Noticeably, Silas could no longer focus his left eye and was subsequently forced to close his eyelid in order to maintain his already shaky equilibrium.
Coughing sand and blood from his lungs Silas spoke to the phenomen from Dxun. “It’s been ages since I lost a battle to a singular opponent.” Silas’s words reeked of his own indignation in defeat. “What could have been has passed and you stand the victor. My life was forfeit and in withholding your vengeance I must presume you’ve a purpose for me.” Silas looked downward a moment in disgrace. “Darth Tormentous, for that is your name now. What do you wish of your newfound servant?” Silas looked back to the man who had in so many ways mirrored him. A dark reflection of their shared heritage in war.