Rites of Passage (Krox, Kell, Any other Sith who want in)

[Kell Sangros]

He was in a dangerous situation, but he was not about to admit or even accept defeat. He would not quit not ever. The lightsaber blade at his throat, it did not scare him in the slightest, a fury in him rose within his core, aching to be released, to be unleashed. The anger like a volcano now, he was almost disappointed that he stepped away.

“This is not all you have, come on! Prove to me that you are Sith!” he said to him.

His radioactive yellow iris locked on the Zabrack, had he been holding back against the dreadlord? He knew that Krox could destroy him but one thing about Warvanus he was not an easy kill. He extended a hand in the direction of his lightsaber and called it to his hand. It came at his mental command gripping the hilt with both hands he activated the single red blade.

He took a couple steps towards the Zabrack , unleashed a guttural , primal roar and sank into the traditional Juyo and unleashed a barrage of lightsaber attack each strike with his lightsaber whether blocked or if it totally missed and hit the floor or a wall, was ferocious almost savage in intensity. It was not blind rage, or being sloppy, he was in full control of his rage and turned it into energy to fuel his attack. Anger at his mis-step fueling the rage within, giving him that power and focus he needed. He was not winding down, he was just getting started.

[Kroxata Akhoi]

His taunt had worked, the yellow eyes beaming directly into his mind, the passion of death and destruction to any that dared question his power or ever considered him weak. The look of pure focus and concentration, seeing one true objective, victory. The Dreadlord let out a smirk, the use of telekinesis Warvanus used to effortlessly bring forth his lightsaber once more his eyes still fixated on Kroxata he paced forward, each step carrying more weight than the last the world seemingly slowed down for the two warriors fallen onto silence, until a battle cry shatters the wall of tension.

Warvanus charged face first into the Beast, laying blow after blow in such rage, such anger, such emotion that each strike became as powerful as his own. He did not need the decades of remorseless hunting, fighting and killing as the Zabrak Champion had undertook to reach at his peak of perfection, the Sith only needed one thing, the Dark Side. With this even the most experience warrior could not match to the hatred a Sith held, the same hatred he finally found in the young apprentice.

His crimson double bladed lightsaber was struggling to parry each blow on either end, the force applied putting off his perfect balance with the weapon, resorting to his Combat Sense to now avoid blows. He watched in awe as the crimson blade slashed across the ground each time he missed or each time Kroxata thought he had pushed him away, only to return moments later with little falter to his momentum. Kroxata was not tiring or being worn down as expected however, indeed he was on the defensive a trait he had not yet fully mastered since every foe he has faced was unable to hold against his overwhelming bruteish barrages, say for a few jedi masters. He was once again studying, learning throughout his bout, the Force acting as a method of recognising a pattern and using it against the threat. The sheer ferocity made it difficult to create a clear method but it only needed one correct prediction to allow the Dathomiri Hammer to counter.

The distance between Kroxata and the room’s back wall became ever closer, his time was running out until finally one move was found, an over head strike that sought to target the Zabrak’s head in a downward slash. Kroxata using inhumane speed shot his Lightstaff to parry the blow but using the Force to compress the area around the blade, and upon impact would disperse into a pulsewave of energy, strong enough to knock both men off their feet, or in Warvanus’ case his blade flying from his grip once more or taking him with it, the Zabrak had the support of the wall to merly briefly knock him into it, but the knockback would be easily recoverable.

If only partly successful, Kroxata had his next move all planned, he had seen what he had wanted from the Sith, he was worthy that was without a doubt, but Kroxata would not let this victory be handed to his own vulnerable decision. He would press off with his foot against the wall, leaping into the air in a flurry of strikes, none of them would strike too but enough to keep the Sith distracted from the mass of movement, his goal around moving his lightsaber away from his body.

[Kell Sangros]

The pulse wave of energy sent him back, he called upon the Force and using a variation of the Force Jump technique he was able to manipulate his trajectory and descent to where he landed on his feet in a crouched kneeling position. He should have had a look of surprise; instead he had a look of amusement. Not in the sense that he was superior but in the sense that he was enjoying himself. With every battle he learned, with every win or loss he learned. Knowledge was power and he was determined to have it in abundance.

He saw the Dathomiran launch himself from the wall and Warvanus knew to switch his style, going from the erratic Juyo to the defensive Soresu and sinking deeper into the Force he let the Force guide his actions, as he was successful in blocking each strike from the latest flurry of attack from the massive Dathomiran. He could see what he was trying to do, he couldn’t explain how he knew maybe it was a tactic he would use at the last strike from Kroxota he dodged and dove into a roll, coming up in a kneeling position, as he was now briefly behind the Zabrack he swung his lightsaber right for the mid where the stomach and torso meet. The swing was with brute strength fueled by the fury he was pouring into the Force. He knew that this attack would be deflected, but he had his next move planned as well, as he switched back to the Juyo form, he attempted a strike starting low but going high, he had aimed the strike for the center of the Dreadlord’s lightsaber hilt. If successful he would split the lightstaff hilt, though whether it would leave him weaponless or with two single blades remained to be seen.

He was a very formidable warrior; it was definite that Warvanus would take a lot of knowledge with him from this duel.