The Way to War is Through Fire. [Kell]

[Slade Xandir]

Blood had enough of the distractions, enough of the noise, enough of the same wretched pace of his own development. He needed to feel as though he were making some kind of impact, atleast on getting a better grasp on taking over this body, and eradicating Slade for good. To use more Force, to get stronger, better. What else was there left to do?

He knew he needed to see Kroxata soon, as the memory of that little Miraluka was refusing to leave his head. Anything to weaken Kroxata, that savage and useless brute of a Zabrak. But all had a place in the mad house, in the House of Tormentous. And Kroxata was not to be killed...Not yet. The beast still served Tormentous, and anyone who gave legacy to Tormentous' might was meant to be kept alive. The Dathomirian Hammer may have not been a diamond in his eyes, more like a piece of coal - but it was that very coal that kept the furnaces of Moraband hot and forever churning.
And if they churned things for his Master, he was not meant to pulverize them.
What a hard life it was, for the Sith he was.

Blood sat in the empty stock room that once held supplies, the very room aboard the Malevolent that he learned how to Alter Energy in. It was solemn, silent, and lonely. He needed this, he needed the memory of what he and Tormentous had done, as it bolstered the wariness of his absence. What had happened to Tormentous? Their bond grew fainter, the days grew longer, and Blood had to truly prove himself in these times. Missions came and went, rebellions came and went, and additional slaves who dared raise a hand, who in turn became a meal for Wrath all came,...and went.
Blood however, continued his studies, working his manipulation in the Force and conspiring against any who questioned his potential as the Next in Line for the Throne of Skulls.
He would get there...if he had to fight and kill everything and everyone, he would get there.

Blood sat cross legged on the linoleum floor, his hands cusped into a loosened prayer palm before him. It was a few deep breaths later, where he released himself into the Force, his perception of the mortal world falling away as he cast himself deep into the threads of his mental web. In this calm and tranquil space, he sat atop his web, strumming through each strand he instinctively knew. Each thread was either an emotion, a feeling, a limb, some psychotic response, or a memory. All of his memories rippled before him, an open book he had no limit to. And on a single thread, he strummed a single finger....
Kell.

The Acoyte who had yet to master much, but relentless in his quest for knowledge. The man who was trying to grow into the name Tormentous had bestowed upon both he, and the peasant world below him; Warvanus. This man was supposed to be the embodiment of War...but how would he fare against the mastered pyromaniac? Against the Lord who tamed and commanded animals, aliens, dragons, and hearts? It was such a sweet question, a delicate truffle he wanted to have a smidge of a taste of, yet again. How fare his little friend?

And upon that string of memory, Blood wrapped his Sense around, rubbing a tongue against the heat of battle they had shared that little spar that seemed eons ago, caressing his mind with the intensity that each interlocked blade cased the flex of muscles to bend to, and opened his eyes the moment he could feel that very same aura aboard this very same ship.
As Slade had done to that Jedi Master, Blood lowered a finger to Kell's minute bond he shared with the Sith Lord, and strummed it delicately. Only enough to get the Sithian's attention; nothing more, nothing less.

[Kell Sangros]

As he usually did in his spare time, he spent it either studying or training. His growing command of the Force was his driving force; soon he would be able to start making a name for himself. In his part of furthering the glory of the house of Tormentous. He had been going through his lightsaber forms and sequences using the training saber. As he practiced he felt something subtle touch his awareness, it was not intrusive but it was enough to distract him and to stop what he was doing.

Begin Sense Force User App

Warvanus powered down the training saber and opened his senses to the Force. That tug it was subtle but different. The difference being that this was directed directly at him not like a disturbance In the Force that would give him the sense of something about to happen. This felt more like a brush against his consciousness. He had wished his Master could fill in the gaps, answers to his questions but self discovery was a part of training, one that Warvanus immersed himself in.

He extended his senses, the curtain of the mortal world fading but not completely from his awareness. He followed the currents to the source. The Malevolent was a big ship after all. He focused on that feeling, through his senses he followed the currents that would take him to the source. Deck after deck he could not find this tremor this direct disturbance. His resolve began to ebb. The mortal world starting to come back into focus, he chastised himself for his ineptitude. Slowly the curtain of his immediate surroundings once again slowly ebbed into a blur as his awareness was submersed in the Force. Finally after a couple of minutes he found the source. He narrowed his eyes and pushed his awareness to the source. He could see in mind’s eye the small room that contained a sole occupant. He could sense the being’s life-force.

He brought his awareness in, focusing solely on this small room to which he could perceive the Force. The aura it felt familiar, in most beings their aura was like a dimly lighted candle, this person’s aura burned like an inferno. Warvanus remembered in his studies that was how you could tell the difference between a average person and a force user. The realization and the ability to apply knowledge he had read opened this gateway. Now he needed to find a way to be able to identify this person. This wasn’t the tug on his mind that his Master would do when summoning him. Warvanus immersed his awareness into the aura of this user. What he felt was familiarity, a imbalance, tranquil but yet a maelstrom. If he was physically immersed in this aura he would have felt heat, as if it was a dragon…..

“Lord Blood” Warvanus whispered to himself

The one Sith Lord who he probably knew the best, as he had several conversations and even sparred in what felt like a lifetime ago. He had grown stronger since then. He had to be sure though. He could feel the strength of this Sith Lord. He could feel that his power in the Force was strong, due to the level of training he has been through. The Force swirled around him. He could feel it, almost see it as a storm surrounding him. If it had been someone he never met, He would just know that they had the Force but he had felt his presence before and it indeed had its own unique signature, since then his senses have been refined, sharpened as he grew in power himself. Slowly he withdrew his awareness back to himself and as he did so the mortal curtain around him came more into focus.

He let out a breath. With practice he would make good use of this new found ability, once more the texts and accounts he had read had served him well. With it he was able to distinguish a normal static being to someone who walked in the current of the Force. It was different than sensing a disturbance this had not been like the ripples that would be created by a disturbance much like a stone thrown into the pond. If he had to make an analogy it was almost as if Lord Blood just grazed his awareness and he traced through the Force the source and then closed his awareness closer around Lord Blood and the aura he projected.

652/400 Word Count
End Sense Force User App.

“I am coming” he said to nobody and left the area, he turned corridor after corridor and even went down a couple decks. He still had the training saber clipped to his side, his dagger sheathed on the other hip with his blade sheathed behind his back. He walked what felt like forever until he came to where Lord Blood stood. The door slid open and he stepped into the doorway.

“Lord Blood” he said simply, as he had a sense of foreboding but was curious on the purpose of this summons. He had apprentices those who were part of his “pack” He had been mildly curious on why Lord Blood took an interest, in certain ways they were cut from the same cloth. Whatever would happen one thing Warvanus knew was that this would be interesting to say the least.

[Slade Xandir]

That lovely, gravely voice. It had been too long since he had been able to properly enjoy the comfort of the whelp. And it had been even longer since he had been able to enjoy trying to kill him.
Restraint was key, in their relationship. Wasn't it, in all?

"It's been far too long since we've been able to have a nice spar, Kell," he began.

Blood wondered how much progression Kell had made since then. It was an idle memory, but a gorgeous one, nonetheless.

"And it seems it will be a minute longer, as there is something I want to experiment with."

Fox appeared from the corner of the doorway, his hands already gripping both vibroswords with an eased pair of gloved hands.

"How's it scorin' Warv? Gonna throw a few mean ones in this spar of ours; then S is gonna hop in; don't get offed, will ya?"

Blood stayed seated, remaining in the middle of the floor, Mercy moving from one of the shadows to guard the only exit. Fox moved to one side of Blood, whereas he expected Warvanus to be on the other side. He pulled his vibroswords from sheathes on his waist, and settled into a defensive stance, ready for War's first move.

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus took another step, he was inside the room now.

“It has been awhile My Lord” he was slow speaking the last two words. His eyes shift to Mercy blocking the doorway he showed no signs of surprise as they had stepped out from the shadows. His features or body language did not change. In fact he took yet another step inside. “That was a fun dance” at this he cracked the slightest of a smile. His eyes shifted to Fox and again to Mercy he was looking at Slade when he spoke. “You think I will run? I am no coward” He knew it could be 3 on 1, it was not the honorable thing to do but then again honor was for the dead and Warvanus had to consider that possibility.

He turned to face Fox as he spoke now. His blue iris’ fade to be replaced by the golden yellow, the eyes of power. He kept the beast changed for far too long and now he would let the beast out. He would not show his hand oh no.

“Sorry to disappoint” he said looking at Fox “I won’t be dying today, so give it your best shot Fox you would do us both a disservice by holding anything back” he drew his blade and gave it a few brandish swings. He noticed the dual blades he wielded. He drew on the Force creating that barrier (Force Shield) He stood there sword in hand he narrowed his eyes and his voice at a primal growl “Come Get some if you can” He waited for the attack to come. The anticipation of the coming duel quickened his blood. He was ready

[Slade Xandir]

Fox took the basic stance of Jarr Kai, which is what he had started out with. He was going to test the waters with Kell, and see exactly how wicked his skill was. If there was no first move from the raven haired male, then he would have at it. Time was of the essence, so said Blood earlier, and he was keen not to waste it.

The muscles bunched in his shoulders as he side-swept Warvanus with a teasing slash aimed to the left side of his chest, his right blade angled in such a manner that a practiced swordsman would properly make to catch his enemy off guard. The right sword of his was held loft, though his hand was tense and ready to catch War's returned swing, if there was one.

Blood kept his eyes on Warvanus, his mind directly into the chest of the Acolyte. Was this the man he had met so long ago? So quickly given his title, almost prematurely, but it was showing well enough through his blocks and parries that he was no weakling. Fox was keeping up well with War, as he was trained by this Sith Lord, himself. But how long would his endurance last?

Blood clsed his eyes, feeling around him the turmoil but proper elixer of what the battle was creating. A delicious round and round of clashing, humming, zinging, and ccasionally a drip of blood slipping to splash across the floor. Blood that his enhanced senses picked up on, inhaled, and grew more hungering for.

Minutes slurred into an hour, and that hour sizzled into almost another before Blood withdrew from his intoxicated trance. It was time for him to interviene.

"Enough," he murmured to Fox, who despite his readiness for another bout of battle was indistinguishably glad for the break.

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus dodged the first attack, attack after attack he would just block, or block and redirect the strike, or just dodge them all together, he was circling Fox. They would also trade physical blows, he did catch a few strikes just as Fox did as well. He was also aware of Blood’s gaze intent on the outcome of the battle. When Warvanus would go on the offensive he would switch forms in the middle of the attacks. He knew that he would not penetrate his defenses. He figured that Blood knew that he was toying with Fox. He had a plan he would wear him down and then go on the offensive harder. He was not a brute afterall. He had faked offensive and in the middle of the dupe would completely change his attack. Fox was formidable he would admit, so was he. The minutes passed and turned into an hour and then the hour almost turned into two. Then abruptly the duel ended. He was just getting warmed up, he was not tired or strained. He was a bit disappointed though. However he also did not want to reveal his hand. He knew Blood was sizing him up, maybe seeing how he has grown since that battle so long ago. He gave a few brandish swings as he looked from Fox, to Mercy , to Slade. His Golden iris bearing into Slade. He had not broken a sweat , not yet. He felt stronger the longer he would battle and or spar. Though, He knew Slade was the superior swordsman in this room. Seeing how he fared this time around would be a true test.

“I was just getting started” he said If Slade could learn one thing by the duel he just saw, it would be that Warvanus was more confident in his abilities. That he was a bit more seasoned, and that he had indeed been practicing and training.

“Your Move” he paused “My Lord”

[Slade Xandir]

Like a well trained show pony...
A tasty morsel, near ripe for picking...
I'm aLwAyS listening...
To these PrETTy City Lights...

For the last time would he bleed himself dry, tonight. Nothing in this life would help War understand this life if he thought it was all about flashing and being appreciated aesthetically. But the catch of this man was...he was capable. He was fully capable, in fact, that he withstood what Fox dealt him.
If only he didn't get lost...under these pretty...
city...
lights...

Blood stood and was immediately the in-between of the green eyes Pack Brother and the usually azure eyed Acolyte. He was almost eye to eye with Warvanus, though he had maybe a bit more than an inch on the last Acolyte of Tormentous. From what he had seen, it was clear where Tormentous had taught him his swordplay, and where he had learned his own techniques. Some were flawless; the ones primarily recognized from Tormentous' own armory, just as a few were from War's own. However, there were some spots Fox too had taken it easy on Warvanus for, as he knew his Alpha's plan for the Acolyte. Fox hadn't sunken his full training into the raven haired man; Blood was supposed to. Fox knew it wasn't his place, and respected that rule. He was there to bolster War's confidence, and it had worked, stupendously. The green eyed Fox had been successful in his wiles and guiles, pretending to be exhausted from the fight when he was in fact tired from the lack of it.
Poor, poor War.

Regardless, Blood was impressed. Even though he had instructed his student to take it easy on War, they all knew the definition of easy was far from 'easy'. And thus again, what War had proven was that he was more than just a pretty face. So Blood allowed him the bliss of being lost in the glimmer, the glamour, the illusion. A quaint smile laced his lips as he regarded War properly, a polite, less curt than usualy nod of his crown.
And less venom in his tone since when they had last danced.

"Warvanus,"

It was slightly warmer, his voice.
Too warm...
Smoke vented from the creases of his grin, as his own words flicked out embers.

" 'A while' has been too long, my friend."

The fumes of smoke curled whimsically around him, dark swirls looking as dark as his own hair, and unfurling in a fading sway above and behind him.

"I'm not too fond of you not ever coming to visit."

Blood pulled dragonbone fang-hilted sabers from the sheathes on his hips. The ebony sheen glistened as they were warmed in his hands, and immediately a deep hue of garnet glowed in its recesses upon contact.
Not too soon after he had gotten a tight grip on them, they too, began to whisper smoke.

Romance is dead,
And all is lust.

"I've told you before...
not to make me wait."

And with that, Blood launched into an immediate attack, swivelling the hilts of the saber around, hooked bone-fangs extended as melee weapons, fully prepared to gouge Warvanus across his throat. Being completely mastered in Jar'Kai, Blood had no problems with 2 handed melee. As Tormentous had taught him, it was a powerful and savage display of adaptability, of timing. You had to expect fast and relentless battering to your defense when in combat with someone who had chosen Jar'Kai as their offense. Agressive, and maniacal. However, Blood wasn't foolish with his, and as Slade had done prior, would use a number method in his strikes. Nothing predictable, but nothing that would consume his energy as the assassin who he survived against had. Blood was a definitely taking after the namesake of being a dragon-spirited being.

A mass of revolting revolutions, rebellious and intending to bring ruin to the unworthy. Slashes and pivots that even Tormentous would have no choice but to be proud of. The merciless fury of a storm, heated in the depths of a volcano, but controlled as if leashed. This was the monster Tormentous had created, and it was up to Warvanus to survive the onslaught of carnage and damnation.

Once the battle got blazing, Blood flipped the hilts over to their proper position and ignited the garnet sabers with halved miliseconds on expertised time. That was when he knew...this battle was something less of a laughing matter, and something just slightly over a grin.

There's so much beauty when your eyes lay lost in all the city lights....

[Kell Sangros]

He eyed Lord Blood with suspicion, it was one thing he knew was that Lord Blood always had a plan, in a sense he was like a master tactican and that Warvanus could respect. He could see why Tormentous kept him around. He sheathed his blade it would not do any good against Lord Blood so he unclipped the training lightsaber. He admitted he was not sure how much good it was going to do him but he would do this dance, it was something he had been looking forward to ever since their first one.

“It has indeed been a long time M’lord” he said he could detect the false warmth in his voice. He was no fool afterall. His Force shield remaining raised. If It was one thing that Blood could sense in Warvanus was that the Darkside was with him, more now than in their first dance. Ever since he had made his sacrifice to it on Tatooine.

He kept his senses alert, his awareness ready. He too used false warmth in his voice when answering Lord Blood “I apologize M’lord but the work and will of our Master comes first , and It’s kept me busy” He cracked the faintest of smiles. His Dirty Golden Yellow eyes locked on Lord Blood’s. And at his words he attacked. Warvanus jumped back executing a backflip to keep him safe from those fangs that were the end of his hilt. (Force Jump) That was not the only attack with them that he had unleashed, he found himself dodging and diving barely keeping a millisecond ahead.

What Warvanus did not realize was he was slowly backing himself into a corner , a dangerous place to be in a dangerous situation. He had to be more mindful of his surroundings. He would chastise himself later for this. He watched Lord Blood, while keeping an eye on both his Pack mates Mercy and Fox. “Ohhhhh how I have missed this” he said to Blood, he waited for his next move

[Slade Xandir]

Blood knew well enough his role in this little family of theirs. He was the one who made sure the worthy either stayed that way, or made use of themselves. Those who were tarnished or broken did not belong. He was, always had been, and would continue to be Tormentous' Hunter.

Blood extended his focus on more than just the flesh, into the hear and up to the mind of War. He needed to know this man was fully invested in the reign of their Alpha, but a barrier was before him. His mind was not meant to be read, apparently, atleast not right now. He was shielding himself from mental intrusion. Another trait Blood too, had.

Blood kept up his furious assault, sabers delivering hell to the entirity of everything in front of him, which was soley Warvanus. It was a fierce offense, practice for his days coming up, though it was more a refresher course. The Acolyte was rearing a splendid defense, his dodges and evasions providing him time to continue living and not be minced. But such a thing had come to need closure, and that was evident in Warvanus being cornered. Either he made it out of the linoleum and steel trap, or he would perish in it.

To provoke a bit more spice to their love life, Lord Blood pulled his saber to a perpendicular cross, and slid the laser swords apart swiftly, and within the time spanse of the action, a clash of energy atoms gave Blood what he needed. Like a flint and steel, the molecules heated and he assisted them further, morphing the transformed energy into a ball of fire. The direction of the swords was launched directly at War, and thus that was where the fire ball was sent. Behind that blaze, Blood readied a kick, a rounhouse that would easily put a dent in the wall.

War had to seriously get out of there.

[Kell Sangros]

One thing Warvanus was not was broken. He had broken memories but those belonged to Kell Sangros not Warvanus of the Sith. Kell was gone, the last remenants swept away with the murder of his wife and townsfolk by none other than Warvanus himself. By doing this he solidified his claim to the Darkside of the Force.

OOC: This app will be in a couple parts considering the power
Begin Part 1 of Advanced Lightsaber Combat App

Warvanus fended off the fierce offense that Blood was unleashing on him, he blocked what he could and dodged what he could not. He had surrendered his instincts to the Force. Had this been two weeks ago he would have lost his training lightsaber halfway through the barrage. He however did not lose his grip nor did he come close to losing his weapon. His constant training was definitely reaping it’s rewards. He knew that this was in part the Force guiding his blade. He did not think, he simply felt and acted on instinct. Something he had not been able to achieve in any training session prior.

Warvanus was backing into a corner, inwardly he smiled he was certain that Blood figured he was about finished. He had to time it just right He saw the Fireball coming his way and his senses warned him of danger (Danger Sense) Warvanus then jumped up executing a forward flip (Force Jump) he landed on his feet and as soon as the balls of his feet touched the ground he brought his lightsaber aimed at Blood’s head in a straight out strike. He was certain that this would be countered even if not the training saber would not cut through him.

Word Count: 211/300
End Part 1 of Adv. Lightsaber Training App