Training Counterstrike - Lord Vexx’s School of the Duel

[Amaya Masslat]

After thinking carefully about what to choose, Amaya decided to choose two songs, because each song has something special, something extra, something that can be combined with the other song, and Amaya knew that these combined songs can determine her to fight with more pathos and this, in the end, to guide her to victory.

The first song she chose is "Feel Invincible" from Skillet. Amaya knew that this song is suitable in the fight due to the strong message that the lyrics send her ...

Amaya chose from the song what best represents her ...
She started to describe to Lord Grievance what she wanted to stand out from the first song ...

* "Living the dangerous life" - when I hear these words I know that I have to be on guard, always, but especially in battle. I know that there will always be someone who will attack me and that he must not find me unprepared. *

* "... when I need to be saved
You're making me strong, you're making me stand "- the Force is what saves me, the Force is what makes me stronger. Through Force I live. Through Force I am reborn *

After a while of silence, Amaya told Lord Grievance about the second song she chose, "Not Gonna Die", also from Skillet...

* "I won't give up I refuse" - these words stay in my head and make me not give up and keep fighting until I get where I wanted "*

* "When everything you love is leaving" - if I think about it very well, these words make me fight the most, these words are the basis on which I build ... through these words I feel how my anger grows and that can helps me become much stronger. *

Even though she referred to these things separately, she knows that they cannot work separately, but only together.

After she finished talking, she stared at a certain point thinking about everything she said and remembering all the things that determined her to choose these songs, ideas ...

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Room IV

Vexx listens intently to Sharkish’ki’s words despite giving the appearance that he may be preoccupied with the integrity of this training room that hasn’t seen much action in several years. Not even the action of a feather duster, from the looks of it. He really doesn’t care, although the dust isn’t exactly kind to his air filtration system and this is made obvious by the brief bout of coughing that seizes him momentarily.

There is the slightest look of annoyance in his eyes as Sharkish’ki expresses his grievances against those who possess more power in the Force than he does. This annoyance is not directed at Sharkish’ki, but more at a memory of his own. He remembers well his days as an aspiring Sith and the pains he had taken in dealing with Force users. It had been especially obnoxious to him as he had always been one to prefer an exchange of true skill rather than some supernatural power. Indeed, Sharkish’ki is faced with a challenge, but it is one the Kaleesh cyborg is well equipped to assist him in.

“Tutaminis is a difficult ability to master,” he muses, facing the Death Warrior now, “And it is most frustrating when you find yourself thwarted by this obnoxious technique. I was fighting Force users long before I knew—or wanted—to use the Force myself, so I truly do understand how impossible this can feel to face, much less defeat.”

He growls slightly as he allows himself to think back on his own experience. It was a long time before he ever leaned on the Force to aid him in combat; a very long time. Even today when fighting, he has a tendency to leave his Force powers untouched as much as possible, but here he stands; one who has effectively held his own in spite of odds often being heavily stacked against him.

“More than ever when one is rising through the ranks, one must lean heavily on the Art of War,” he speaks to Sharkish’Ki in a tone that can only be taken seriously, as though life and death are in the balance, “At this stage, you have knowledge which is priceless, but you lack strength. Use your knowledge to hold your ground in combat. Turn your duel into a study of your opponent. Tell me this, Sharkish’ki, when you engage your foes, are you the one to strike first? Would you say you take a more offensive or defensive stance? Mind you, there is no right or wrong answer. This is merely a direct question to help me understand your current approach to a fight.”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

IC- Sharkisk’Ki
Vessek III - Training room IV

Sharkish’Ki listened, observing the Lord’s behaviour. His voice seemed concerning, with an instructful tone that befit a being of extensive experience. Sharkish’Ki allowed his mind to wander toward memories associated with the Lord’s questions.

His mind vividly played out his first encounter, with Knight Palzivar, who’s opening attack put Sharkish’Ki immediately on his back foot, and yet he’d followed with a suitable counter-attack, that ultimately led to a victory over the giant warrior. Palzivar had not used direct Force attacks, but merely used the Force to enhance his own, already considerable might.

Sharkish’Ki felt the Sith Lord’s presence, not only physically near him, but spectating within his memories as each of the moves re-transpired like a holorecording.
His mind quickly flashed to the second example, and the encounter that shook him still; that of his meeting with the Dark Lord Immortalis himself. The Kaleeshi Lord popped his near-eye open and took a gleeful note of the Apprentice as he shivered through his recollection. Here, he had bravely struck first. Another brief encounter came to mind, that held a glimmer of shame. His first meeting with Death Knight Vigor... his thoughts digressed, thinking he should reengage with impressive Zabrak... However, in this instance, Sharkish’Ki was forced to avoid an attack and raise his guard accordingly.

Sharkish’Ki’s thoughts quietened and he frowned, as he had little else to offer in this regard, “My stance is subjective, my Lord,” he spoke with a formal tone, “My most recent trial, with that of two Dread Knights, is the matter of concern.” He felt a sense of disappointment and dissatisfaction at the outcome of meeting two formidable Force users... Sorcerers... whatever they were, they made Sharkish’Ki jealously angry. It wasn’t that they were stronger, that angered him. It was that he was so defenceless against their onslaught.

“The trial my master put me through held valuable lessons; that I can survive; that I am still weak, that...” he felt his anger becoming pathetic. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath through flared nostrils. The musty smell of ancient stone, buried tapestries and... fried breadcrumbs... soft, melting cheese... Sharkish’Ki swallowed.

“My point is, my Lord, is that I was at their mercy. I survived because they willed it,” he growled, “The Force revealed things to me that I thought lost, and for that I see the necessity, but the power brought against me, I could not stop”.

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Room III

The Kaleesh Sith Lord finds an incomparable beauty in watching the light come on in the mind of a student as a concept is properly grasped and its weight is tested and found to feel right like that a finely crafted, customized weapon. Terrogate’s perception of what he has explained thus far does not disappoint him, though the Catharian’s true understanding has yet to be tested in combat.

“Indeed, this is precisely what I am advising you to do,” he replies calmly, “Every duel should be a character study from here on out. Learn as much as you can while you fight. Whenever possible, I highly recommend forcing your opponent to strike first. Their opening moves will yield bountiful information. Is your opponent reckless and unorthodox? Calculating and precise? A numbskull who doesn’t even know how to wield a blade? If that is the case, by all means, let them know about this training that I offer.”

It is difficult to say for sure whether Vexx is saying this seriously or simply offering a bit of odd humor and letting his guard down. Either way, it is unsettling because there is simply no way to tell for certain, for indeed, the cyborg is a challenge to read for most.

“Show me your lightsaber, Soldier of Venom,” Vexx’s command and leaves no room for hesitation. While he doesn’t necessarily need to be shown the weapon because he has already been studying it passively, there is a purpose in his request. “Show me your lightsaber and tell me about your chosen lightsaber combat forms.”

Tag: @Terrogate

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber II

Vexx waits in seemingly unending patience as Amaya works to match a song to her fighting spirit. Truly, he is in no rush. He enjoys what he does and, as a deep thinking individual, his mind has plenty to do even in moments when he seems idle. This should never be confused as distractibility, however, for the cyborg has laser focus on just about everything he does.

As Amaya announces that she has found her fight song and—even better—she has found more than one, the Cruor Krigsbefallaf turns his expectant gaze toward her, saying nothing. He only waits politely for her to continue. As she describes how each lyric resonates with her spirit, he is assured that this budding Sith has grasped this lesson quite well.

“Excellent,” he replies, his cybernetic voice echoing eerily in the training chamber, “Now, understand that there was no right or wrong answer in this lesson. I only needed you to find at least one song with words that you felt connected with. You have found not one, but two. You do well and have an advanced grasp on this lesson. I feel you are ready to move on to Lesson Three, but that is ultimately for you to decide, Amaya Masslat. Do you wish to linger here and call forth more songs with which to construct a playlist that will be the soundtrack to every conflict you face? Understand that you are free to do this for as long as you live. The point in this lesson is to have a source of inspiration and to know how to search and find more when you need it. Do you have more questions on this topic? If you feel confident in what you have learned, we can move on. If not, my time is yours for questions and anything else that is on your mind regarding this subject.”

OOC- Well done, Amaya. This lesson is designed to help you find inspiration when writing isn’t coming so easily. Darth Writer’s Block strikes with a heavy hand sometimes, but the power of music has the potential to level any walls he may raise against you. Whatever you’re decision, whether you wish to move on or have more questions, you may respond in character here. I will act accordingly with whatever you decide.

Tag: @Amaya Masslat

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx maintains his silence as Sharkish’ki relives battles passed; conflicts faced and learned from. He can sense the revisited fear, pain, and anger. Where most Sith would revel in this, Vexx is irritated by it. Not because of the content or Sharkish’ki’s feelings on any of it though. He is irritated by his own affliction as the Force is at work. While he has learned to cope with the reoccurring tinnitus when the Force is in use, it still annoys him greatly as a threat to break the laser focus he prides himself in. He might have given into his temper altogether over it if he had not heard Sharkish’ki’s last statement, speaking of two Dread Knights who had assaulted him.

“Silence!” the cyborg snarls without warning, whirling to face his Cruor student, his cloak snapping with his sudden about-face. He stalks up to Sharkish’ki and takes full advantage of his intimidating size, towering over Death Knight Slayer’s apprentice as though he might crush him on the spot. “You are alive because you willed it, not the other way around!”

He seems to grow strangely calm, stepping back into his quietly controlled demeanor after having gotten that out of his system, though the lowest of growls seems to ripple softly through the training chamber like the roll of distant thunder. He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace, though not in an agitated manner. His signature in the Force is calm as he engages in the self-soothing motion he has always reverted to when trying to quell his temper.

“The will to live is a remarkable force inside every sentient being, Sharkish’ki,” he says quietly, “It is why the dying struggle so. It is not until the will dies that the body follows suit. I have seen both man and beast fight valiantly to hold on even as they lay disemboweled and their lungs filling with fluid. Whatever sustains that will, one can only guess at. Perhaps it is a spouse; a lover; a friend; a child. Whatever it is, the will to live is fueled by it. You did not survive what you endured because of anything those knights did or did not do. You survived because you wanted to survive.”

He lapses into pensive silence once again, ever pacing, ever growling albeit in a soft and strangely unaggressive way. In so many ways, the cybernetic Sith Lord is unpredictable. He behaves as a man, a beast, and a machine, shifting between the three in an ever-changing pattern. Even still, his signature is calm in the Force, but the etchings in his alchemized armor begin to pulse with their crimson glow, a sense of apprehension lying just below the surface.

“I was at the mercy of a tormentor years ago,” he says quietly, his restless pacing at last coming to a standstill, “I did not survive because he had any mercy. I took myself to the very precipice of death with a desire to die because of my suffering...but something stronger pulled me back. I know you know what I am talking about, Death Apprentice Sharkish’ki. What is it? You tell me what was in your heart that day, willing it to keep beating in spite of your pain. There was something there...otherwise you would not be here today.”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Terrogate]

IC- Terrogate
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Terrogate at once reaches to his side and removes a curved hilt crimson lightsaber from its holster and holds it up in his large fur covered hands for the General to inspect.
The curved hilt allows for slight adjustment of angles when wielded correctly allowing a tactical advantage to a well skilled opponent. It also allows for greater leverage and thus, a more powerful and quicker stroke my lord. My initial Saber focus was Form IV Ataru, this ability coupled with my natural Cathar bonus of increased agility and balance seemed the logical option for the selection as the form itself itself is enhanced.

I felt comfortable with this until the later stages of battle and found i was weak in areas, namely stamina and also defense when trying to recover after a strenuous assault. So, on being elevated to apprentice level 2 I selected Form III as a more defensive discipline to add to my skill base. This form should allow me to not need to sprint through a duel and give me a more rounded style. It should allow me to defend and deflect incoming attacks, even blaster fire until an opening presents itself and i can mount an attack myself.

At least, that was my plan my Lord.




@Grievance Vexx

 

[Xuul Zephyrot]

Fog filled the viewport of Senec's borrowed Vahlan fighter as canyon walls sped in a blur on either side of him. This was Vassek III, once a lair of the dread General Grievous, now the hidden dueling academy of the equally fearsome Sith, Lord Grievance Vexx. Senec's fighter darted and wove through the crags and pillars of the moon's canyon; though Senec was by no means an exceedingly skilled pilot, the course had already been laid in to the fighter's autopilot, a common destination for those acolytes and apprentices seeking training in the art of the duel. Here, buried deep in a maze of canyons and craters, Senec would find a hidden fortress, its enormous midnight-black facade rising like a prowling monster out of the mist and rock.

Fighter jets cooled and hissed as the Caamasi took control of the ship to bring it to a cautious landing on the dusty-gray surface of Vassek III. As the cockpit opened, Senec gathered his things. He traveled lightly as always; with a simple black robe cinched around him, he plucked his cane from the floor and slid his datapad into his pocket. Carefully, he lowered the ship ladder and descended it, the effort a slight struggle for his frail form without assistance from the Force. He did not call on the Force to ease his pain but rather coldly ignored its offers of help, instead dwelling on the pain and frustration of his elderly weakness and further strengthening his mind through endurance. Once on the moon's surface, he looked up, up, up at the immense fortress before him, whose upper echelons vanished into the surrounding fog so that its summit was not visible. Though he felt an understandable uneasiness, he also regarded the citadel with an archeologist's detached interest. This was a building of great archeological importance if indeed the legendary Grievous had lurked here. It was unknown whether this place predated Grievous or had been built specially for him - the architecture led Senec to believe it was far more ancient, but of course it could have merely been built in a purposefully archaic style - but regardless Senec's eyes lit with anticipation as he approached the threshold.

The door creaked open as he approached, whether through technology or Vexx's own Force-wielding Senec could not tell. An icy-cold wind swept past him as a long rusted corridor echoed in front of him. Senec felt the freezing gust clutch at his heart, its nails seeking to dig into his heart and clutch it fast with fear. Rather than cringing away from it, seeking to deny the fear, Senec accepted it with open arms, letting his naked dread gird him with further determination, seeking to fully experience the terror of what he faced so that his decision to push further in would be a mark of strength rather than foolhardiness. His heart frozen with dread, he pushed onwards, the taps of his cane echoing like ripples from a dropped stone in a pond.

At last he entered a great dark room, filled with strange statues and a wall of blankly staring sculptures. He examined them with a studied interest, not allowing the fear he embraced to betray itself in his posture or face. Instead, he paced along the back wall, taking note of the graceful yet strangely off-putting array of stone figures. Then something seemed to tingle in the back of his mind. He whirled around, sharp avian eyes piercing the blackness - and found a pair of slitted yellow eyes staring straight into his. Had he not been against the wall, he might have taken an involuntary step back; as it was, he stood his ground, watching as the monstrous Vexx loomed out of the shadows.

The cyborg lord was no less imposing than the last time Senec had encountered him in the Korriban Academy's war room. Nevertheless, this was his first time being alone before the dread lord, and his uneasiness rapidly intensified as the realization of how very alone he was became more apparent. As far as he knew, no other beings currently stood upon Vassek III save for himself and Lord Vexx; if he were to make any sort of a serious error, a lapse in judgment that ended with Vexx himself casting judgment, there would be no one within several parsecs to come to his aid, rescue him from whatever horrors his would-be instructor saw fit.

Vexx regarded him for a moment in a silence as stony as the sculptures behind Senec. Then, eyes glittering, he hissed a sibilant "Hello there." The stark contrast between the casual greeting and the deadly poise of the cyborg warrior struck Senec as darkly humorous. He wisely refrained from expressing the observation.

"You have come here to train, yes?" the cyborg said. It required no answer; had Senec come into Vexx's presence for any other reason without provocation, it would be immediately apparent to both of them how unwise that misstep was. Senec gave a small nod anyway, unwilling to leave anything to chance. Wordlessly, Vexx swept past him, a door sliding open, ensconced among the thick dark stone, as Vexx passed through it. Senec swiftly fell into step just behind him. To increase his speed to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with the duel master struck him as unwise; instead he trailed just behind him, sticking closely to him as lights seemed to spring out of nowhere in Vexx's presence and fade as he passed, turning and twisting in a labyrinth far beyond what even Senec's experienced memory could remember. At first, he attempted to keep a rough sketch of the facility in his memory, should he for any reason need to find his way out by himself. Just as quickly, though, he reluctantly abandoned the effort, the very energies of the dark side around this place seemed to discourage memories from sticking, seemed to render the entire maze of hallways and tunnels into an unknowable, ever-shifting vortex. Instead, Senec concentrated on getting a feel for the dark side energies of this citadel, seeking to bring his mindset in line with the aura of calculating rage surrounding this place.

At last, Vexx prowled into a new room, much the size of the one they had left, but well-lit, spartan in design, full of duracrete stages of various sorts, high-ceilinged and cavernous.

"I am Lord Grievance Vexx," the great cyborg growled, "Krigsbefallaf of House Cruor." He paced inwards, one skeleton-like hand gesturing outwards, "And this - this is where you will learn to become a master duelist."

Senec gripped his cane tighter, not drawing his blade just yet, but standing at the ready nonetheless. Til now, he had said nothing before Lord Vexx, only followed him with mute respect. Now he inclined his head in a short bow, "I am Apprentice Senec TInople, Lord Vexx, and I thank you for inviting me into your fortress. I have no misapprehensions about what awaits me; I know it shall be rigorous and full of opportunities not only for growth, but also for failure. Nonetheless, I stand ready to learn whatever you see fit, and stand or fall by your command. Teach me, Lord Vexx. I am your humble disciple."

With these words, he fell silent and awaited whatever Lord Vexx had prepared for him.

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Room IV

Though his face is incapable of expressing emotion, Vexx would almost smile at the proud and eager manner in which Terrogate presents what should be his best friend aside from the Force. As a veteran who has fought both against and alongside some of the finest of warriors, Vexx understands the bond one should have with one’s weapon of choice. It would appear that Terrogate fosters such a bond, but at the same time, the Catharian seems understandably nervous, subtly seeking affirmation that his chosen weapon and form are suitable.

Without hesitation, Vexx plucks the saber from Terrogate’s furry hands. He bears such a likeness to the previous owner of this fortress, one might think he is taking it to add to a ridiculously large collection. But no. The Krigsbefallaf merely turns the weapon in his skilled hand, observing it with a peculiar sense of reverence despite the fact that it is the barely broken in blade of an apprentice.

“Your lightsaber is very reminiscent of the one wielded by the great Darth Tyranus,” he observes, stepping back in a single stride that puts ample distance between himself and his student as he cannot resist demonstrating a Makashi flourish with a surprising amount of fluidity and grace for a being built as brutishly as he is. He closes his eyes momentarily as though to savor the feeling the simple opening move has granted him. It has been a while since he has had a formal locking of blades.

“You choose wisely to implement the defenses of Soresu into your combat,” he continues, extinguishing the blade and returning it to its leonine owner, “But are you aware that your blade’s hilt is designed specifically for a certain form? Give it some thought and see if you can determine which form that is and tell me when you think you have the answer.”

Tag: @Terrogate

 

[Karros Zaruiel]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Room I

The cyborg is patient as Karros dredges his mind and his database for a song to claim as his own to inspire his fighting spirit. Vexx himself has many fight songs and he draws on the inspiration from each as he needs it depending on the situation he finds himself in. He is pleased that Karros is driven to not settle, but to seek perfection to fit his technique. This shows his passion and passion is something one cannot fake. It is also something anyone who calls himself Sith or an affiliate thereof must possess in order to survive, for it is an integral part of the Sith Code itself. Additionally, it is something the Krigsbefallaf thoroughly enjoys working with and stoking when the opportunity presents itself.

As Karros finds the beat of the drum that is war, Vexx watches him expectantly, curious to see what the Death Apprentice assassin has found to fuel his courage and guts in a fight. He listens to Karros’s song choice with interest in both lyrics and percussion, for these are two elements he tends to focus on and, as he endears a piece of music to himself, he will then isolate the individual sounds of each instrument and any background vocals applied for an ensemble feel. He is an analyzer by nature as this tendency fully coincides with the strategic way his mind works. Even still, Vexx is unbiased in this lesson. While he has his own preferences, he is well aware that everyone is motivated by something different.

“You understand that there is no right or wrong presentation here, yes?” he asks, lifting his eyes from the datapad to focus on Karros, “Your mission is to find something with words that will embed itself in your heart and mind to draw upon in times when you need to see yourself fighting for victory. If this is it and you feel it in your soul, you have done well.”

He draws himself up to his full height and paces away, lapsing into thought as he mentally refers to the predetermined lessons he has structured specifically for this step-by-step training. He has little doubt that Karros will excel as the lessons progress, so long as the aspiring Sith assassin holds fast to the passion he has thus far shown to possess. Finally, after a few moments more in silence, he speaks again.

“Always keep an open mind, Karros,” he states simply, though not without the implication of a deeper meaning, “Be ever listening. You are an assassin; this should come naturally to you. You are a hunter. A hunter listens, not just for the footsteps of his prey, but the vitals as well. He feeds off the fear that becomes detectable in each quickened shallow breath his prey takes and the increase in the prey’s heart rate as it knows the hunter is present. In the same way that you listen to these different melodies and rhythms, pay attention to different songs that you hear. A core fight song is an excellent start, but you should not stop at just one. You should find others with which to create a playlist; a soundtrack for every conflict you are faced with. The nature of warfare is ever changing, like water coursing over different terrain. In this same way, you should eventually have an arsenal of songs that fuel your will to fight. This first song is merely a foundation, you understand. A drop in your well of inspiration. It is up to you how deep that well will run.”

He lets this final bit of advise hang for a few heartbeats, giving Karros time to pause and consider the importance in his words. There is nothing awkward about Vexx’s silence—not from his end anyway. He can be silent for long hours before he decides to speak again and it doesn’t bother him a bit. In this case, however, hours do not have to pass; only a few moments.

“You have done well in this lesson,” he concludes at last, “Before moving on, I only ask that you not forget it and continue to apply it for the rest of your life. There is always new music to be heard. Likewise, there is music that has been here for generations that you just haven’t seen value in yet. Keep this in mind as you process what you hear in your everyday world. If you are ready, we can move on. If you wish to linger here a bit longer with questions or curiosities, I am in no hurry.”

OOC- This concludes Lesson 2, Karros. Well done. If you feel that you have a thorough understanding on this tactic which is, in all actuality, a way to ward off Darth Writer’s Block and fuel your inspiration to write, we can proceed to Lesson 3. You may respond in character regarding your decision and I will take my cue from you.

Tag: @Karros Zaruiel

Karros watches Lord Vexx listen and measure his choice of song. He listened to the Steel Asura's council on how to utilize music to his advantage; to motivate, to inspire and to empower. Karros listened to Lord Vexx's council to expand his playlist of songs for the same reasons, but for different scenarios and settings. Karros was quite confident with this lesson. His largest conundrum was not finding a song, for he had many to choose from in his own personal library, but to select just one. Adaptability and flexibility were key to surviving in his line of work. Things were constantly in flux and needed to be able to adjust from moment to moment. These same things applied to his music playlist. It was how he had such a large selection to choose from when picking a song to set the mood in the cantina.

Karros watched Lord Vexx pause for a few moments, then ask if he was ready for the next lesson. Once again Karros felt quite sure of himself with this lesson. This lesson was meant to refine him. But he also know that he was still in the opening acts of Lord Vexx's curriculum. Things would progressively become harder from hereon. Nonetheless, Karros felt he was ready to move forward.

"Thank you for this lesson Lord Vexx," he said, "I am ready to continue. What would you have of me?"

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber V

Grievance Vexx remembers well the scholar who had so thoroughly answered his call to action in giving an example of the Art of War and utilizing energy. He recalls the elderly man’s courage in spite of the cyborg’s intimidating presence, leering over his shoulder, culminating tension in the room as he had drilled him with his cold reptilian stare. He is a little surprised to sense Senec Tinople approaching, an elderly creature seeking training from a younger being, though with all his droid-like appearance, it is easy to believe Vexx is ancient as easy as it is to believe he is young. One simply cannot tell.

In any case, the cyborg watches Senec’s every move from the time he docks on the landing pad. Whether he has eyes on his guests by way of cameras or by way of the Force is uncertain, but either way, he doesn’t keep Senec waiting long before he appears in all his intimidating glory, cybernetics whirring and clicking softly in the tomblike silence of his cavernous retreat.

As the apprentice follows the veteran duelist to the training chamber Vexx has set aside for him, the Krigsbefallaf listens with well hidden interest as Senec maintains respect and offers his expectations of what will occur in this training. At least he knows this will not be easy. Nothing aggravates Vexx more than an arrogant student who thinks this training will be a walk in the park. So far, Senec remains on favorable terms. Vexx is admittedly perplexed over the intriguing personality of the Caamasi scholar, however. He has heard of this race before. They are almost the polar opposite of the culture of the Kaleesh. Peace-loving, pacifist creatures. Vexx is surprised to learn that one, in his elder years, seeks to align himself with the Sith.

“Your expectations are correct, Senec Tinople,” he replies, pausing to turn and face the Caamasi, “This will not be easy, but I assure you, it will be worth it. You do not seem like the type who would shy away from hard work. This is to your favor as, in the Sith Empire, you will learn that very little comes with ease.”

The lights come on in Vexx’s fifth training chamber, revealing a room with plenty of space for movement, but it is also filled with walls lined with an endless assortment of weapons, most of them lightsabers. It is anyone’s guess how the cyborg came to stockpile so many.

“This will be our classroom, Senec Tinople,” he continues, “And your first lesson begins now. You are a well-read and literate scholar, yes? I want you to dig through the libraries of your soul and bring forth one descriptive word you would wish to have applied to yourself in combat. This word—whatever it is—should resonate with victory, for it will be your battlecry. Take your time and draw the word into your consciousness; meditate on it and verify that it feels right before you deem yourself ready to commit to it, for this word was inside you from birth. Whatever it is, this word will lay the foundation upon which you will build the rest of your training.”

Saying no more, the cyborg paces away a few strides and stands in silence as though he himself is meditating. Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t. Whatever the case may be, his silence and distance is intentional as he gives his student time and space to search his soul for the battlecry within.

OOC- I would recommend visiting thesaurus.com as a way to expound on your chosen word as oftentimes, a common word has a synonym that sounds stronger or deeper and it may adhere to your character better than the original word you come up with. Thesaurus.com is also an invaluable tool to use when looking to put a little more panache into your writing. If you have any questions, you may PM me here in the forums using the same conversation in which you submitted your CS.

Tag: @Senec Tinople

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber I

The decidedly cynical cyborg leaves himself open to the currents of the Force, listening to the whispers of Karros’s thoughts. He can sense the concern beneath the surface; the subtle worry that perhaps he hasn’t delved enough into this lesson. At the same time, he can sense the thin traces of indecisiveness.

“Create a playlist, Karros,” he says calmly in answer to the assassin’s unspoken thoughts, “Have many weapons in that arsenal. Warfare is like water. The variables are ever-changing. You should have a playlist to match each change. However, this is a skill you will sharpen for the rest of your days, so you needn’t overthink it. Just be listening with an open mind. Always.”

Vexx chuckles darkly; ominously, as Karros tells him that he feels confident in moving on to the next step. The sound itself is bound to be unsettling, even to the most stoic of students. The cyborg straightens and draws his blade, igniting it with the chilling snap-hiss that would mean death to most.

“You will duel me, Karros Zaruiel,” he replies in a tone that leaves no room for argument, “You will demonstrate what you know and I will do likewise. If you are afraid, you should be. If you are not afraid, I might question your intellect. Use your fear to fuel your desire to survive; to conquer. If you can do that, well...you might stand a snowball’s chance.”

OOC- So begins Lesson 3. You will receive another tag shortly and it will be in a separate thread. Bring your wits and your weapons.

Tag: @Karros Zaruiel

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx maintains his silence as Sharkish’ki relives battles passed; conflicts faced and learned from. He can sense the revisited fear, pain, and anger. Where most Sith would revel in this, Vexx is irritated by it. Not because of the content or Sharkish’ki’s feelings on any of it though. He is irritated by his own affliction as the Force is at work. While he has learned to cope with the reoccurring tinnitus when the Force is in use, it still annoys him greatly as a threat to break the laser focus he prides himself in. He might have given into his temper altogether over it if he had not heard Sharkish’ki’s last statement, speaking of two Dread Knights who had assaulted him.

“Silence!” the cyborg snarls without warning, whirling to face his Cruor student, his cloak snapping with his sudden about-face. He stalks up to Sharkish’ki and takes full advantage of his intimidating size, towering over Death Knight Slayer’s apprentice as though he might crush him on the spot. “You are alive because you willed it, not the other way around!”

He seems to grow strangely calm, stepping back into his quietly controlled demeanor after having gotten that out of his system, though the lowest of growls seems to ripple softly through the training chamber like the roll of distant thunder. He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace, though not in an agitated manner. His signature in the Force is calm as he engages in the self-soothing motion he has always reverted to when trying to quell his temper.

“The will to live is a remarkable force inside every sentient being, Sharkish’ki,” he says quietly, “It is why the dying struggle so. It is not until the will dies that the body follows suit. I have seen both man and beast fight valiantly to hold on even as they lay disemboweled and their lungs filling with fluid. Whatever sustains that will, one can only guess at. Perhaps it is a spouse; a lover; a friend; a child. Whatever it is, the will to live is fueled by it. You did not survive what you endured because of anything those knights did or did not do. You survived because you wanted to survive.”

He lapses into pensive silence once again, ever pacing, ever growling albeit in a soft and strangely unaggressive way. In so many ways, the cybernetic Sith Lord is unpredictable. He behaves as a man, a beast, and a machine, shifting between the three in an ever-changing pattern. Even still, his signature is calm in the Force, but the etchings in his alchemized armor begin to pulse with their crimson glow, a sense of apprehension lying just below the surface.

“I was at the mercy of a tormentor years ago,” he says quietly, his restless pacing at last coming to a standstill, “I did not survive because he had any mercy. I took myself to the very precipice of death with a desire to die because of my suffering...but something stronger pulled me back. I know you know what I am talking about, Death Apprentice Sharkish’ki. What is it? You tell me what was in your heart that day, willing it to keep beating in spite of your pain. There was something there...otherwise you would not be here today.”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

IC- Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV
Sharkish'Ki watched the cyborg as he recounted his experiences. He didn't fully understand the root cause of the Kaleesh's temperament, as the Krigsbefallaf came storming toward him causing Sharkish'Ki to drop his head. Steeled talons stopped short of stomping on him, and remained in view of the human for a while, as he imparted his wisdom. Sharkish'Ki waited for the Sith Lord to finish before retorting.

"I..." he hesitated, feeling that he cause an argument at any time, if he wanted to, or if he wasn't careful. "I feared failure, my Lord. I feared failing myself, my master... my House, and my Empire." There was a hint of fearful concern in his voice, as he raised his eyes to look for a reaction from his tutor. “I turned momentary failure into victory, before. This was different,” he continued, airing his frustration. “this was out of my control. And I don’t know what skills I can take from this, or what skills to develop should I find myself in similar circumstances.”

He took a deep, almost peaceful inward breath, and took in his surroundings once more; the must of amalgamated dust and airborne moulds, that usually eluded him due to the rebreather’s filtration system, was a welcomed fragrance. Though considerably less floral, it reminded him of the Jedi ruins of Taris. Sharkish’Ki felt his mind clear. This fleeting moment of clarity over a simple smell, was rare, and as rapidly as it came, the moment came to an abrupt end, to the sound of his Lord’s foraging amongst a pile of debris.

 

[Amaya Masslat]

After Amaya finished describing, she waited for Lord Grievance to tell her what he thought about all she said.
As she listened to what he was saying, she really felt that she had managed to complete this lesson.
Lord Grievance had asked Amaya if she still wanted to think of a song for battle, at which point she thought of a song or maybe two, but nothing came to mind. Amaya had only one more question for Lord Grievance ... "If there are times when I have a song in mind, can I say it? At the right time, of course."

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx more or less lapses into rummaging to do something with his claws besides wrap them around the neck of this apprentice and throttle him. He tells himself to relax, his medical droid’s endless reminders about his blood pressure ringing in his mind. He needs another health lecture like he needs a hole in his head. He must remember to be patient with these younger Sith, struggling to make their way in the galaxy. His respirator hisses ominously as he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before speaking.

“You had more control than you realize, Sharkish’ki,” he speaks quietly, but there is a sternness in his tone, as though he will not stand for his student not grasping what he’s telling him. “You think it is a crime or a flaw to be afraid? Your perspective on fear is skewed.”

He glares at a skull he has unearthed from the debris and without warning, he smashes it to small fragments with a single blow of his fist, coughing as his action throws up quite a bit of dust. He then turns once again to face his student.

“That will be your skull if you fail to grasp what I am telling you,” he grumbles, purposely stepping closer so that Sharkish’ki’s head just so happens to be within striking range for him, “You identify yourself as a warrior, yes? Do you really believe a warrior is without fear on the battlefield? If you do, you believe a lie. A warrior’s greatest task is learning to look fear unflinchingly in the face. Not the fear of his foes, mind you. His own fear is what he must stare down. Mark my words, you will face your own fear every time you set foot on the battlefield, be it a personal one or one you find yourself on because of your duty to wage war against any who would challenge the Empire. You will sense the acrid taste that plagues your throat with perpetual dryness; your heart will feel as though it will explode for all the adrenaline passing through it; your blood will run cold and you will feel a nauseous sickness drop into your belly. It is inevitable. However, it is not a flaw. It is an obstacle to be leveled by your strength and courage and your willingness to die for what you believe in.”

As the temperamental cyborg says all of this, there can be no doubt that his mind is walking over battles past, recalling every detail; every feeling he ever felt even before he was cursed to a life inside the living metal coffin that now serves as his body. There is a current of urgency in the Force as Vexx hopes Sharkish’ki will hear and understand.

“As a warrior, I learned to face my fear,” he continues quietly, “As a Sith, I learned to master it. Feeling fear is not a sin, Death Apprentice. Letting fear control you, that is where you are giving ground that is extremely difficult—if not impossible—to regain.”

Without warning, the Krigsbefallaf’s cybernetic arm with all its lightning-fast reflexes snaps out and seizes the crown of Sharkish'ki’s head. Doubtless, the apprentice may fleetingly think Vexx is about to make good on his skull-crushing threat, but the grip is neither damaging nor painful. Uncomfortable? Yes. Disturbing? Very. Nevertheless, his skeletal hand remains there for a purpose.

“I want you to revisit that day,” he growls in Sharkish’ki’s ear, “Difficult though it may be, I want you to walk over every torturous detail. I will go with you and feel everything as you felt it, for this is what brothers in arms do. Can you do that, Death Warrior?”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber II

Were he capable of such facial expressions, the otherwise ill-tempered Kaleesh might have smiled at Amaya’s question. There is a peculiar innocence about her that could very well be mistaken for weakness, but not to him. It is truly a hunger to learn and this is admirable to him.

“Of course, you may,” he replies, “As you travel through life, if you listen with an open heart and mind, you are bound to hear additional songs that will resonate with you. Listening for them at all times will give you fresh fire unexpectedly and often when you need it most.”

He straightens his hulking form and takes hold of a lightsaber hilt attached to his hip armor. Igniting the blade of the White Death, he eyes Amaya, his senses alert to any fear she may have in what he says next.

“You will now duel me, Amaya Masslat,” he declares, leaving no room for balking, “You will bring what you have learned so far with you to the training arena and we will put your skills to the test. There is a further lesson to be learned in this next step and it, like all the others, is extremely important.”

OOC- You will receive an additional tag shortly. Our duel will take place in a separate thread because dueling is much faster-paced and, for the sake of other students, we will spare cluttering up this thread with combat posts.

Tag: @Amaya Masslat

 

[Terrogate]

IC- Terrogate
Vassek III - Training Room IV

The Cathar warrior watched as the General took hold of his own Saber. Terrogate had not yet killed anyone with it, nor had he named it but he still felt apprehension when relinquishing the curved hilted saber to the Lord. The young warrior for a moment felt naked without it. No one else except the Shadow hand had so much as placed their hands on the weapon since it was forged.

The general looks intently at the crimson bladed saber, taking a step back then igniting it and moving through a Makashi flourish. The large droid body whired and his feet clanked on the stone floors, but his movements were flawless as his transitions seamless from parry, to thrust to counter movement.

Terrogate watches the general with great interest, his hands twitching in muscle memory from his training lessons with his Master the Iron Gauntlet as the General demonstrates the well practiced movements. To learn that his saber was designed for a specific form did surprise the Cathar however.

Terrogate had selected the blade based on 2 things, 1- it was Darth Banes weapon, an ancient warrior Sith he idolized and held in high regard, and 2nd it's curved hilt allowed for a more powerful stroke and more precise angles and execution of form. And as his father had once told him, "only a fool knowingly passes up a chance for advantage when it comes to war. Paying attention to even the smallest of details often determines the fates of many". . He thinks hard about it to find an adequate response. He thinks hard about which Form would benefit the most from more precise movements and angels, and also leverage on heavy strokes.

In his mind the Catharian goes through each of the known forms.. the defense of form 3 Soresu? no.... prehaps the heavy hitting form of 5 Shien?? no... that didn't fit either.. he runs though all the forms before he answers the Lord... " not 7, or Form 1." The Catharian , choosing his best guess.. "Form 2 my lord?? - Makashi." The Catharian decides that although he wasn't entirely sure, he at least better make a good showing of his answer even if it was wrong. " I believe this is the form because it involves balance, uses one handed stabs, thrusts and slices and parries. Its the assassins form.. the 100 cuts. i feel that the added precision of the curved hilt would allow the wielder to be more accurate with lighter strokes. Although admittedly, i don't know the real answer my Lord."


Tag: @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

The cybernetic Sith Lord watches Terrogate as he searches his own knowledge for the answer to his challenge. There is a reason Vexx has asked this question. As with most everything he does, there is always a reason.

“I will put it this way, Soldier of Venom. There is no hope for you ever landing a career as a stormtrooper,” the Krigsbefallaf chuckles, “You are far too accurate. Yes, Makashi is precisely the form your blade is designed for. It is an energy-conserving form and Darth Tyranus was masterful at it. The curved hilt not only allows for quick and precise singlehanded strikes, but it also makes it more difficult to be disarmed. If you ever find yourself bored with the forms you are comfortable with, I would highly recommend experimenting with Makashi, seeing as how your weapon is designed for it.”

He paces away a few strides, thinking; plotting. He has an idea; a wonderful, awful idea.

“I should like to observe you in action,” he continues, “If you would fancy a duel, I can most certainly arrange one. What say you, Apprentice Terrogate; Soldier of Venom? Would you like the opportunity to show me what you are made of?”

Tag: @Terrogate

 

[Terrogate]

IC- Terrogate
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Terrogate smiles at the Generals humor, but then.. the mood of the conversation changes to a more serious one. " A duel?" Almost immediately he has the feeling of mixed excitement and nerves in the pit of his gut. But the smile remains on the Cathars face.. but only now coupled with a steely intensity in his eyes. "My Lord, I would not expect you to be able to properly guide me to a greater level of mastery without first seeing my current ability. Of course, I am ready."

Tag@Grievance Vexx

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

vv

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx more or less lapses into rummaging to do something with his claws besides wrap them around the neck of this apprentice and throttle him. He tells himself to relax, his medical droid’s endless reminders about his blood pressure ringing in his mind. He needs another health lecture like he needs a hole in his head. He must remember to be patient with these younger Sith, struggling to make their way in the galaxy. His respirator hisses ominously as he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before speaking.

“You had more control than you realize, Sharkish’ki,” he speaks quietly, but there is a sternness in his tone, as though he will not stand for his student not grasping what he’s telling him. “You think it is a crime or a flaw to be afraid? Your perspective on fear is skewed.”

He glares at a skull he has unearthed from the debris and without warning, he smashes it to small fragments with a single blow of his fist, coughing as his action throws up quite a bit of dust. He then turns once again to face his student.

“That will be your skull if you fail to grasp what I am telling you,” he grumbles, purposely stepping closer so that Sharkish’ki’s head just so happens to be within striking range for him, “You identify yourself as a warrior, yes? Do you really believe a warrior is without fear on the battlefield? If you do, you believe a lie. A warrior’s greatest task is learning to look fear unflinchingly in the face. Not the fear of his foes, mind you. His own fear is what he must stare down. Mark my words, you will face your own fear every time you set foot on the battlefield, be it a personal one or one you find yourself on because of your duty to wage war against any who would challenge the Empire. You will sense the acrid taste that plagues your throat with perpetual dryness; your heart will feel as though it will explode for all the adrenaline passing through it; your blood will run cold and you will feel a nauseous sickness drop into your belly. It is inevitable. However, it is not a flaw. It is an obstacle to be leveled by your strength and courage and your willingness to die for what you believe in.”

As the temperamental cyborg says all of this, there can be no doubt that his mind is walking over battles past, recalling every detail; every feeling he ever felt even before he was cursed to a life inside the living metal coffin that now serves as his body. There is a current of urgency in the Force as Vexx hopes Sharkish’ki will hear and understand.

“As a warrior, I learned to face my fear,” he continues quietly, “As a Sith, I learned to master it. Feeling fear is not a sin, Death Apprentice. Letting fear control you, that is where you are giving ground that is extremely difficult—if not impossible—to regain.”

Without warning, the Krigsbefallaf’s cybernetic arm with all its lightning-fast reflexes snaps out and seizes the crown of Sharkish'ki’s head. Doubtless, the apprentice may fleetingly think Vexx is about to make good on his skull-crushing threat, but the grip is neither damaging nor painful. Uncomfortable? Yes. Disturbing? Very. Nevertheless, his skeletal hand remains there for a purpose.

“I want you to revisit that day,” he growls in Sharkish’ki’s ear, “Difficult though it may be, I want you to walk over every torturous detail. I will go with you and feel everything as you felt it, for this is what brothers in arms do. Can you do that, Death Warrior?”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

IC - Sharkish'Ki
Vessek III - Training Room IV

Sharkish'Ki winced as the cold, clawed digits dug into his skull, and he fought the reflex that screamed at him to draw his sabre in defiance of the of the breach of personal space. Instead, he felt himself taking his thoughts back to that fateful cavern. His mind's eye flickered like the tall flames that encompassed the primal surroundings he once again found himself in.

He was back in his body, and about to endure the torture anew. The heat was with him once again, and the three that would change his life in ways he thought impossible, stood ahead of him, each of them appearing in judgement of his weak flesh. His eyes shut tight in anticipation of the wounds he was about to receive. He felt the tension in his muscles straining against his skeleton as the S'kytri's telekinesis held him fast against his will. Then his flesh gave way to the sceptre carried in Darth Skyllan's steady hand.

"As you see, my Lord. I didn't fear my master, or her compatriots" he strained through gritted teeth "and I didn't fear what came next..."
His vision continued to play out. The S'Kytri circled him, drawing the Force nexus through the gut, and past his spine. He remembered feeling the odd sensation as the sceptre broke the skin adjacent to his spine, from the inside. He wanted to wince and writhe from the dull pain that emanated from the wound, and yet his body held fast. The S'kytri then manipulated his visage; his ashen flesh crystallised into scales as his bones cracked, and the tendons and ligaments elongated and contorted into it's new, reptilian form. A huge reptilian eye ventured into Sharkish'Ki's peripheral vision, and a long, slender forked tongue coiled abrasively on his skin and constricted around his straining arm, before Dagger-like teeth as sharp as mono-filament durasteel slowly clamped down above his elbow, slicing muscle and splintering his humorous with a crunch unlike anything he'd heard before. The sensation made him sick, as the adrenaline surge nauseated him further as only his strength of will held the shock at bay.

Sharkish'Ki tried to pull away from the cybernetic phalanges that forced his vivd recollections as his nausea manifested in his present. He felt his stomach spasm, and his mouth began to water as he fought the urge to regurgitate his last meal at the feet of the Kaleeshi Krigsbefallaf.
"Even now, at the most physically damaged I've ever been..." he swallowed, "I didn't fear it... that thing they'd become, or the wound I was suffering." His stomach settled as he focused his vision on the flames reflecting on his Lord's exoskeleton.

His memory took hold again, as he recalled the pain that surged from cauterising the ragged flesh where his shredded bicep and triceps flanked the splintered remains of his humorous. Small, dark puddles surrounded him, and he couldn't recall a difference between those that were water, and those that were filled with his own blood, as they all reflected the inferno equally. The thought that he was back in control of his fate was short lived as The Shard, the second of his captors, took to centre stage. It too managed to enforce it's will, like beast master with a timid pet. It probed his mind and found a suitable mimesis; the human's mother appeared before him and, straddling him like a lustful temptress, forced his mind to snap his remaining intact arm at the elbow joint.

Sharkish'Ki took a long, deep breath. "As you see, my Lord, my fear was not for my wounds; it was a fear of the abilities they brought to bare against me; it was fear of my own weakness," Sharkish'Ki paused, as the hand holding his crown tightened slightly.
"Hence my coming to you, my Lord, for wisdom regarding engaging combatants of this type."
Sharkish'Ki waited, unmoving, for the Lord to offer his critique of the moments in question.

Tag @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC- Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx opens up the channels of the Force between himself and his Cruor student, letting his own mental defenses fall and tapping heavily into Force Empathy to gain the clearest understanding of Sharkish’ki’s pain. His willingness to do this is without hesitation or apprehension is almost frightening. It is as if he hungers for this experience. He can feel Sharkish’ki grow tense and fight the urge to shy away. Ordinarily, he would not be so invasive of one’s personal space as the Krigsbefallaf values this himself, but this is a unique situation. And so, as though they are two soldiers crouched together in a foxhole in enemy territory, the elder Sith can feel the claws of anxiety grip his slightly younger comrade.

“Steady yourself, krigare,” he speaks calmly, so drawn into the feeling of camaraderie, he reverts to a Kaleesh term for his fellow warriors back on his homeworld, “This is only a memory. You are safe presently. This is already behind you.”

The nausea that strikes Sharkish’ki in turn strikes Vexx as he experiences the sensation of cold steel penetrating his insides and being drawn through with deliberate slowness. Just as keenly, he feels the helpless paralysis; the brutal removal and destruction of a limb; the burning of the flesh; the self-inflicted snapping of a bone; the longing to simply slump into the embrace of unconsciousness. As a warrior who is driven by honor, he can feel his anger burning toward the ones who had orchestrated this torture. While the strength it was intended to build is understood, it reminds him very much of his own torture and the cruelty he had been subjected to during his transformation. Character-building or not, it was unjust torture and punishment and there is little else in the galaxy that can stoke the Krigsbefallaf’s otherwise painfully subdued rage.

As the memories fade to the present, the cyborg slowly releases Sharkish’ki, but before he gives him back his personal space entirely, he places a hand on his shoulder in a simple gesture of camaraderie that denotes the unspoken message of “well done”. He then releases the Death Apprentice entirely and paces away a few strides, hands clasped behind his back once again as he revisits what he has learned in seeing the torture through the eyes of the tortured.

“You feared weakness; failure,” he turns to face Sharkish’ki slowly, his amber eyes burning like fiery coals behind his skull-like faceplate as he continues, “I can relate. I can also explain what happened there in that cavern. You were met with an opposition you could not fight and when that happens, the objective shifts. Rather than winning, your focus becomes survival. This is not weakness, Dödskrigare. This is choosing your battles. You witnessed the Trial of Blood in the recent Kaggath, yes? This is a great example of what I am referring to. It was a potentially lethal engagement. Though we were all driven by a desire for victory, the wisest of us on the battlefield had to adjust our objective or everything we did out there would be reduced to fruitless vanity. Our objective went from victory to survival. This, too, ties back to the Art of War. ‘Water shapes its course according to the ground over which it flows. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare, there are no constant conditions.’ Survival requires a certain flexibility and the truest Sith come from a long line of survivors. You are in good company, Sharkish’ki.”

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki