Throne of Skulls (Warv, Tormentous)

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus was not about to let him land the killing stroke. He continued channeling power to unleash the power of Deadly Sight but he would be dead if he continued to gather the power to show his own level of Mastery. Nor would Warvanus beg for his life, it would be a disgrace to both himself and the Emperor, if he died here then he would die and Tormentous’ power would increase. If by some miracle he was victorious then the Warrior-King would assume the throne and begin a conquest like none had even seen. He was still kneeling on one knee, his power continued to build soon he would show Tormentous the power to kill by just looking at an opponent. He figured Tormentous estimated that Warvanus was done. He would soon disappoint his Master, or maybe not. He could feel it in the Force that he was building his own power as well. The time to act was now.

“You know me, you know I will not beg for my life, but nor will I stand idle and let you take it”

In his mind Warvanus had envisioned on how this would go and this was not at all how he envisioned this battle would go. He tugged on his blade, it rose and then with a nudge from the Force (telekinesis) he lunged it blade first towards his Master, Akaan Burkida flew blade first towards Tormentous aiming at the mid section but since it was to the side it would go through his side if the blade met its target. As he had done that he changed his tactics and abandoned his attempt at disintegrating his foe. No he would use the power to unleash lightning of his own as he poured his dark emotions into the Force as he extended his hand and unleashed his own power.(Force Lightning)

[Ben Kenobi]

THE MASTER AND THE APPRENTICE

- “This is the way of our Order. An individual may die, but the Sith are eternal.”
-Darth Zannah

Moraband, a world of legend in both the means of the times owned by today as much as it had been yesterday. Even tomorrow promised that this world would announce to the Galaxy its due. Kings and Emperors had lived among the arid wastes and mountainous terrain. Entire civilizations had come and gone under the Horuset star. Today though was the day in which the fate of an entire Empire built on the blood of tens of thousands of slaves would be decided. Though only a precious handful of souls residing of this world would even know of this event in passing for it was to be undertaken without fanfare and devoid of the dramatic tendencies of today’s Sith.

It was the single most important task of the Sith tradition. The day of judgement. The day where the Apprentice seeks out the Master and takes to him the challenge of the right to rule. To survive. A test in which would decide one’s ultimate worth and one’s absolute finality.

So stood the Bringer of War, the Warrior King, Right Hand of the Emperor and the commander-in-chief of the Sith Order’s Armies and Armadas alike. The Warrior stood relentless amid his strife, a right hand torn away to the song of dangling wires and the occasional spark. The smell of burnt plastic and fine lubricants that had been torched permeated the aura of the man. The left hand was balled in an angry fist, bluish lightning played across his fingers and tangled its way up his wrist and to his forearm, it burned trails across the armor’s surface as it did so though the wielder had more important things to concern himself with than a fresh coat of armor paint and polish. His gaze fell on his Master and while he held no resentment towards this man he was filled with anger at himself.

Darth Warvanus held his stance just beyond shoulder’s width and his mind was slowing to recover and focus on what needed to be done. He was hurt, bruised and cut, fatigued… but he was without fear and girded with an unyielding determination to see this through to the end. He would slay his Master and take the Throne of Skulls... or he would sell his life dearly upon these very stones and pour out his life’s blood upon the altar of the Darkside of the Force.

Resolved to his task the War-Bringer shot out his hand and his teeth flashed to the roar of his voice. Lightning arced out from his fingertips and scoured a path of destruction in its wake. Stone was charred and burnt, ozone was scorched and the heat was raw and visible as it passed through the air to its target. Warvanus’ eyes were wide and white as his fury was produced unto reality.

In the blink of an eye the vile Darkside energy punched its way across the distance and came to contact…

A sword of as much legend as the world itself, or so it seemed. Known throughout the Galaxy as a tool of destruction and the weapon of today’s most villainous tyrant. Forged from the sand of this very world in the heart of an alchemical cauldron created by the hand of Exar Kun himself. The blood of hundreds had been spilled by this blade alone and by the hand of the one who carried it millions more. Unmistakable even in some of the farthest reaches of space today; the Jidai Maras. The lightning played across the sword, an explosion of contact sent arcs of blue in several directions and a screen of smoke coupled with a shower or sparks gave concealment to the figure now swallowed within it all.

Warvanus clenched his fist and yanked his own fallen sword, the Akaan Burkida to him though it would pass through its victim first. Within the smoke a bright flash of yellow sparks clanged twice. Steel on steel echoed from within the smokescreen and out came the Apprentice’s sword off its course and skittering to the ground, it slid to Warvanus’ feet and he grit his teeth to see the sword was not mired in blood.

The cold depth of the throne room only seemed to descend further even in this arid world. Frosty breath came in cloudy puffs from Darth Warvanus’ mouth as he exhaled heavily.

Warvanus looked into the coiling smoke…

A boot hit the ground, heavy laden in step and measured with a threatening promise that his will would be done. Time stood still and while his stride was normal it would feel as it was the stalking thunder of a horror vid. Another step came to echo from the depths of the smokescreen and an unfathomable Darkness began to descend as the being within the smoldering cloud became a shadowy silhouette. With every step came the curtailing sound of cracking ice, the sword held gave off sheets of cold frosty air. Then there came the piercing yellow acid eye through the fog. It glowed like a beacon cutting its way through the mist. Smoke rolling around his armor and parted to his passage until he came to a stop and glared at his foe. That right eye, that dead white eye sent a chill down Warvanus’ spine that was as cold as the air around him.

Behold… Darth Tormentous.

Together they stood as a looming timescale froze between them. Their eyes met and an entire conversation could have passed from one to another. Tormentous’ left arm was drenched in blood, drops falling from his fingertips. The arm was more or less useless after having been cut by Warvanus’ sword several moments ago before Tormentous had relieved Warvanus of his own left hand. It appeared both had struck a blow already.

In that moment Warvanus’ eyes dropped from his opponent to the sword lying at his feet. Tormentous, not foolish enough to let an opportunity pass saw his opening and he flew into action with an incredible burst of speed. Warvanus dropped his shoulder letting the horizontal slash pass mere centimeters from his body; it would have struck his head straight from his shoulders. Dipping his shoulder he caught it with his right hand and braced his left wrist on the flat of the blade, bringing up his guard vertically from his rising knee. Tormentous was right there. He had spun with his attack and the blow hammered Warvanus’ sword. Reverberating across his left forearm where he’d taken the impact it struck him off balance. Tormentous was advancing and not going to allow his opponent to rise as he had done once before. Warvanus issued the Force to his legs and with a powerful leap he was displaced from his position. The Dark Lord however was not interested in chasing down prey. He powered forward and was on Warvanus even before his feet his the ground. But now Warvanus was on his guard and he took the first set with three distinctive parries, two to the right and once down low on his left side where he sidestepped away and right. This allowed him space to counter and he did so with with a haymaker from his left hand… it passed Tormentous’ face with nothing but wind to show for it. Warvanus’ mechanical nerves connected to his hand had given him a phantom limb and he had misjudged the strike. Though Tormentous flinched since the strike came from his right side where he was blind. Warvanus’ time was purchased in an accidental ruse and so he launched on his own assault.

Knifing forward in a lunge the Master smacked it down and away bu the Apprentice wheeled his sword around and struck diagonally from left hip to right shoulder. Tormentous leaned away from the attack, the tip of Akaan Burkida cutting a trench through his breastplate. Warvanus used his momentum to sink a left elbow into the face of his foe. Tormentous saw the attack and looked aside taking the strike on the right cheek. Skin split, blood flowed and Tormentous danced away with a horizontal sweep to the stomach level, he knew it would not land as Warvanus was already distancing himself from anticipating just such a strike but the distance was purchased. Tormentous did not take long to recover his wits and Warvanus was already circling his opponent and looking for an opening.

They struck out in a set that was touch and go for a moment. Both coming close to taking a limb or sending the other a furrow cut through the body. Steel sang to the sound of steel and sparks flew with every connection of those twin forged blades. High left, midsection center, high right, flurries of attacks came and went while their footwork was put to the test. One unbalanced step would have spelled an opening the other would have capitalized upon without hesitation.

Timing and all their afforded expertise came to play here as the two dueled in one last dance to seal the fate of their foe. Tormentous came in hard to the lower left hip which was naturally Warvanus’ weak side now that he did not have a hand to help in his defense. Warvanus had to pivot and parry which put him out of position on the next set which he defended but by this time Tormentous had moved into the inner sphere of defense and he rotated his next heavy attack up and around coming down with severe ferocity aiming the strike at Warvanus’ right shoulder and angled to sink deep down into his chest. In haste Warvanus lifted his sword to defend, he took the strike fully and terminated the downward momentum but this had been Tormentous’ ploy all along. He had anticipated that Warvanus would block rather than parry.

With blades locked Tormentous stepped in and slid his sword to the right. His blade sparked along Warvanus’ own until his quillions caught Warvanus’ and then with that momentum and his inward step he was able to shove aside both swords and bring his pommel up. It slammed home into Warvanus’ face. Shards of Tormentous’ crawling ice hit Warvanus like shrapnel and the impact alone sent him away.

Warvanus caught himself haphazardly and cursed himself for allowing the opening but he had no time to lament as he could sense the kill stroke coming. He danced away, spun and sent a diagonal cross from his high shoulder down to Tormentous’ hip. The clash of steel sounded as Tormentous blocked and countered. Warvanus struggled to parry but managed well enough.

The Apprentice glanced to his left and with two fingers off his hilt he clenched a fist and the bottom of one of the many pillars within the throne room crumpled and buckled away. The upper portion of the pillar could not stand without the base and so the entire pillar of several tones of stone began to tumble in their direction.

Tormentous assaulted his foe once more, Warvanus parried away and bought time, if only he could get back on his feet he could launch his own attacks. The first stones began to fall. One to their left, one between them which broke their clashing, then a third slammed into Tormentous’ shoulder. It was a large stone and it had fallen hard. The Dark Lord was knocked from his feet, his left shoulder burning in serious pain. He hit the ground and had to roll aside as the entire pillar came crashing down towards him. Warvanus fared better taking smaller debris cuts and scrapes but nothing more.

Warvanus rose to his feet and viewed the calamity that had literally befallen the arena. Dust and frozen stone fragments were scattered everywhere. Tormentous though… he was gone.

He did not lower his guard. Surely such an attack would have only delayed the fight and not ended the Dark Lord. Though if it had then all the better. Just as the dust began to settle a massive portion of broken pillar exploded from its dormant position and shot towards Warvanus. He jumped high with the Force augmenting him but that pillar was coming at him too fast and it struck his right foot. Armor buckled and bones shattered to gravel while Warvanus was pitched to the ground unceremoniously.

Sith lived for pain but this level of pain was enough to destroy the resolve in anyone. Even through grit teeth he cried out in shock and agony. He could even now feel the bones of his ankle and the shin above it grinding with a dozen fractures but his foot he could not feel anything other than the severe torment he was under. Through outright resolve he forced his mind to focus and he looked up, through the dust and ruin came Darth Tormentous flying at him with a strike poised to impale him. Warvanus rolled hastily to the side just in time for the sword of his Master to stab and sink easily into the stones. Then Warvanus kicked out and struck the Dark Lord in the face… with his right foot.

Tormentous’ momentum sent his attack off and he staggered away. Warvanus’ pain receptors registered what he had just done and he wanted to drop his sword and die right then and there. Unforgiving pain raked up his leg from his foot and his vision swam as his world began to shut down all around him.

Warvanus struggled to rise up and he managed it, using his sword to lean on. Sweat rolled from his face in sheets despite the cold. His body was trembling as the muscle failure and his leg was throbbing, every stricken heart beat slammed into his nerves and threatened to make him pass out. Lifting himself onto one foot he brought up his guard in a last effort of defiance. He was balancing on his left foot while holding the sword in his right hand. Stance alone, this fight was over.

Tormentous’ vision swam as he staggered up to his feet and he strode to Jidai Maras which was stuck in the stones still. Blood loss was now becoming a huge factor. His arm had yet to stop running freely and now with a split in the side of his face that now drenched his jaw and lower neck. Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword he looked to Warvanus’ shambled appearance and was amazed the warrior was still standing. For a moment the two stood there in silence. Knowing the end had come be it one or the other.

With a heave of effort Tormentous yanked his sword from the stones, flourished it to his ready position…

Tormentous and Warvanus stood mere paces apart. Both bound and determined on this course of action and seeing this through to the end. They studied one another, looking for an opening gauging their opponent and anticipating the next and final series.

The stones of the pillar were still crumbling which added ambient noise to the throne room aside from the crackling fire of the hearth. Together they stood poised to end the other in the next stroke of the sword.

In the next heartbeat the two men made their move. Warvanus obviously remained stationary though he positioned his sword to the appropriate angle where he would receive the incoming charge, parry away and counter. Tormentous strode in with confidence and struck towards Warvanus’ weak side, Warvanus parried as thought and riposted, Tormentous slapped the strike aside but failed to connect as Warvanus’ swordsmanship was put to the test in his perilous position. Warvanus had checked his sword into Tormentous’ path. Again both swords clashed and sang. But a warrior even of Warvanus’ magnitude could not stand toe to toe with Tormentous’ onslaught.

Darth Warvanus was taken off balance, his sword fell low to compensate a balance of weight and position, Tormentous encroached the Apprentice’s position and struck the underside of Akaan Burkida to put it further out of position.

In the flash of an eye blink it was all over. From a low angle Tormentous was inside Warvanus’ guard unopposed. Through the center of his body sank the Jidai Maras all the way to the quillions until the guard clanked into Warvanus’ shattered chestpiece.

Agape fell Warvanus’ mouth, blood already running from the wound and more of it filling his mouth. Beyond his limit his hand opened and Akaan Burkida hit the stones. Darth Tormentous looked into the eyes of the Apprentice and watched as the life escaped him. Evaporating into nothingness.

After a moment Tormentous pulled his sword free and he did not catch the dying man as he fell backwards… into oblivion…


Darth Tormentous VS Darth Warvanus


Victorious

Darth Tormentous
25 EXP
40,000 cr


Defeated

Darth Warvanus
5 EXP
10,000 cr