Training Counterstrike - Lord Vexx’s School of the Duel

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish'Ki
Vassek III - Training room IV

Pain surged through his human body as his relaxed frame was sent hurtling backwards against his will. Shock and bewilderment rapidly gave way to aggression as his head made a resounding thump against the irregular stonework of the ancient walls. Dust and debris was sent billowing from behind him as a warmth trickled down his neck as his fresh blood pooled into the recess of his clavicle, accompanied by the smell of copper drawn through his flared nostrils with his rapid breath. His vision had narrowed on impact, and a resounding thump was audible in his ears as his blood pressure climbed with his heart rate. Pain coursed though his back and shoulders as the Force pressed him firmly to the stone wall. He was pinned, perhaps a meter from the ground.

Before him, his sight began to play tricks on him. The clear outline of the Kaleesh cyborg's outstretched claw began to twist and shimmer, blurring in and out of reality as his subconscious wall of amnesia began to melt away. Sparks of pain crackled in his head as his Lord's form slowly stomped toward him, the cyborg's skeletal form morphed and twisted. Its ornate plating seemed to melt and flow like running paint, fusing together like skin. Lord Vexx was now replaced by an unnervingly tall, slim woman that seemed to tower over Sharkish'Ki with every advance. Where there was none, now immense light shone through her billowing, golden hair, like a righteous tempest that sent her facial features into menacing darkness. Her eyes once blue, began to bleed and morph into red-orange wreathed pits of pure darkness that burrowed into him. Sharkish'Ki felt himself diminishing in her presence as he fought to defend himself from the glare. He couldn't shut his eyes, as he clenched his jaw and snarled as the pain twisted his face. He could feel power inside him growing; the fear welled, and the hatred burned.

Sharkish'Ki quivered against the stone, fighting the Force brought against him with his own power, as he stared back into the pits of fire that was his mother's eyes. The defiance grew inside him as his mind fought to control his splayed arms. It was like pulling the heaviest weight he'd lifted, as the musculature of his arms and chest strained against the telekinetic onslaught. He was not this small boy his mother had always insisted he be. He was quick, and powerful, and now was the time to prove it, as his arms struggled under his command.

"You... won't..." He stammered through gritted teeth, "Not... anymore!"

The woman now face to face with him, grinned, exposing a cornucopia of pearly-white canines. She was hunched over him, like a jeering serpent wearing a long, ivory satin dress that flowed down to her bony bare feet. Her narrow arms extended above them both, ending in delicately long fingers, with long, blue nails that raked and clawed deep into the stonework just above his head, sending dust and grit into his eyes. Was he here? Or was he there...

It was like her laugh was holding him against his will. Still he struggled. "You're weeeak..." She snarled, "Using petty tricksss..." The memory of her voice burrowed into his ears like raging tinnitus. "I've told yooou before not to waste my time with thisss!"

Sharkish'Ki dug deep into his untapped rage and wrestled with all his might to free his grasp. All the while, the sand between the stones at his feet had descended into the foundations, responding to vibrations around the thick stone slab he'd chosen to focus on. He stared into her eyes. She was close enough to see in her pupils his own hatred reflected back at him. The stone cracked away from its neighbours in a puff of sand and rubble, ascending rapidly at the creature's centre mass...

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

No one would ever know the turmoil that Vexx himself battles as he executes this torturous lesson on Sharkish’ki’s unsuspecting mind. In doing this, the Kaleesh must maintain a painfully controlled focus as his own mind teeters on the precipice of careening back to the day when this very same lesson had been taught him by his master. He finds solace in remembering that he had been strong enough to resist being utterly shattered and he is confident that Sharkish’ki will demonstrate the same resilience.

Contrary to what Sharkish’ki’s eyes are telling him, the Krigsbefallaf has moved out of his line of sight shortly after his vision is consumed by his past. Vexx can see the very same thing his student is seeing, but the emotional impact upon him is not felt, for this is not a personal matter to him. These are Sharkish’ki’s ghosts and demons and Vexx can tell he is being fooled by these illusions.

“If you want this to stop, you must push me out of your mind, Krigare,” Vexx’s voice rumbles softly through the murky waters of Sharkish’ki’s memories, “You desire to strengthen yourself in the Force? It all begins with the strength of your mind. If I can infiltrate and manipulate that, you have already lost. What happens if you are in the heart of battle and your foe does this to you? Mark my words, you will be slain before you even have the chance to draw your weapon. You are worthy of a death more glorious than that!”

His physical hold on Sharkish’ki through the Force pinning him against the wall remains steady and unwavering. The Cruor warrior will feel a shift in his mind, however, as Vexx threatens to thrust him into additional unsavory memories, demonstrating that he still holds his mind as though in the grip of his durasteel claws.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC: Sharkish'Ki
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

The reddish sandstone block continued on its trajectory, passing harmlessly through the creature that bore down upon Sharkish'Ki's rageful form, as dust and small debris tumbled back downward through the air. The creature looked on, as indifferent as it was affected by the stone that would have sent it recoiling, had the apparition been corporeal. Sharkish'Ki's instinctual anger and fear had made a fool of him, as he stared at the stone he held with the Force. Disbelief had replaced the fatigue he felt in fighting the grip he was held in, as the stone hovered above the almost grotesque rendition of his mother.

His childhood fears had never surfaced like this before, and yet twice now, he'd been brought to his preverbal knees by the fearful memories he should have long since shed. The fatigue began to subside as he almost seemed to relax into the Kregsbefallaf's hold, accepting of his position of a fly caught in the spider's web. The Lord's voice seemed to echo around his mind, before settling into a consistent thrum, as Sharkish'Ki searched the room, trying as he could to see past the manifestation before him. He squeezed his eyes shut and searched before him with the Force. My memories hold no power over me! My pain is my own to use, not yours! Sharkish'Ki roared inside his own head, eager to exercise his strength of will.

The mother-creature was in his mind's vision also, yet it appeared as a dark shimmer, misted and distorted like the details weren't entirely accessible. He quickly built up a vivid picture of the landscape; the sealed doorway to his right, the small antechambers that adjoined the main arena, and the pillars before him that supported the weathered walkways ahead. Sharkish'Ki didn't know what to look for, but it didn't take long to notice the oddity that was the shadowy energy that drew from within the room toward an epicentre, pulsating and rippling through everything it touched. The weighty cyborg had wandered into the myriad of ancient pillars and crumbling scaffolding, made obvious only by the intricate runes of his armour that dotted his silhouette in the gloom, as obstacles seemed almost translucent in this vision. The Force emanated from within the Kaleeshi warrior in a technique alien to Sharkish'Ki, as his own manner of Force use was reactionary and untrained.

Sharkish'Ki felt energy surge through him as the Force crashed into his body like waves. His struggle fatigued him, and yet the persistence seemed to reward, as raising his arm seemed to obscure the wave's pattern. As he brought to bear his own command over the Force, the creature before him began to lose it's texture, becoming transparent and dim. Sharkish'Ki lost focus on the stone, as it plummeted as fast as it had risen, fracturing with a dull thump upon impact as its descent misaligned from its origin. Sharkish'Ki's focus was now on closing his mind to his assailant, as he attempted to block access to his memories. If he was to unravel his past, it would be on his terms.

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Xuul Zephyrot]

“Excellent,” the cyborg general purrs.

Senec Tinople watches Lord Vexx pace as he completes his thoughts on the value of music, fixing Vexx with a piercing gaze. There is much . . . more to this being than meets the eye, a brilliant mind behind the brutish monster, a sense of elegance and subtlety carefully cloaked behind the harsh metal plates and sweeping cape. It is as if he uses the reminder of Grievous’s blunt force and iron fist as a mask that fit as snugly as the cyborg’s own baleful faceplate. Senec has heard the stories of Grievance Vexx’s merciless duels and slaughters. He has no doubt that the Sith is as brutally methodical and dispassionate as he presents himself. Yet, still, there is a . . . softness there. Not the sort of softness that implies weakness, but a sense of understanding and quick-wittedness which, if the stories were true, are the antithesis of what General Grievous had represented.

All of this flashes through his mind in an instant, his mind still keenly focused on the general’s words. Becoming distracted, lost in thought as Senec wis wont to do on his own time, would be a deadly test of Vexx’s patience. Observations notwithstanding, Senec is not so foolish as to think that this hidden softness of the general would save him, should he waste Vexx’s time. He nods as the cyborg Lord instructs him to always pay attention to the sound of new music, for it may provide him a fresh source of inspiration. He has often noticed the stirring power of music, such that even entire galactic governments adopt anthems for their citizens to march and salute and hum to. It is indeed a power not to be underestimated.

Abruptly, the general moves on, his thoughts concluded without any necessity to dwell on them. Finally, he moves on to something more predictable, now beginning to wend his way towards the art of combat proper. He urges Senec to tell him about the form he has chosen and the lightsaber he wields to complement it.

Senec immediately launches into words, keen mind racing, a subject on which he immediately has much to say.

“It is a straightforward enough question, Lord Vexx, though I must confess that my journey to discovering this answer has been more indirect than most. For many Sith, it is a simple matter of constructing a lightsaber and deciding whether they wish to adopt a more aggressive or more defensive style. Most Sith are eager to construct their blade, cannot wait to ignite it and leap into action. My relationship with my weapon is more . . . complex.”

He paces slightly, the tapping of his cane echoing in the large room as he gazes down at it thoughtfully.

“When I first entered the ranks of the Sith, I was just the opposite. I did not want to even construct a lightsaber, thought it a crude, overly valued thing on which Sith and Jedi alike put far too much of their dependence. I thought that a Sith has so much more at his disposal, so many powers in his arsenal, in his very being, that resorting to waving around a bar of light was the most inelegant and sloppy way of defeating someone there is.”

Pausing briefly, Senec casts a glance at the patiently listening general and offers a small chuckle.

“No doubt, in my words you can hear that much of this opinion still remains with me. It is something about which I have debated with myself endlessly; it has almost become a matter of pride, a way of proving my worth to myself, that I refuse to draw a blade when I can find a more creative solution. The problem is, of course,” he sighs, “that some situations do require a lightsaber, either because the opponent is too strong-willed, or because going through the tired motions of a lightsaber duel can often distract more . . . enthusiastic opponents into letting their guard down, unaware that a larger game is being played while they blindly bat at me with colored sticks. Thus, I must be proficient enough with a lightsaber that they are solely focused on the assault, and skilled enough that I am able to divert some of my attention towards turning circumstances against them secretly without overextending my concentration and being cut down.”

Without warning, his right hand shifting to a specific grip on the pommel of his cane, he pulls upwards, a wicked dagger flashing out of the cane’s hollow interior. He is not troubled by suddenly drawing a weapon in Vexx’s presence. Both of them know that he presents little to no threat to the cyborg via a direct attack. Catching the rest of the cane with his left hand, he spins it around in his hand until he grasps it about halfway up, then presses a hidden button. A red blade buzzes out of one end, the end which would be hidden by the top of the cane. The grip is unusually long, since the hilt comprises most of the cane’s length, forming a lightsaber pike.

He turns toward Vexx with a grin, “You see, even the manner in which I hide my blade is a part of my strategy to confuse, disorient, and manipulate. Even the shell of the cane is woven through with cortosis, so that I am able to block a lightsaber in a pinch without revealing that my lightsaber lies within. 'Til now, it has only been a last resort, but I hope that by studying with you, I will learn to use it well, so that it will become another practiced tool of deception.”

Senec spins the weapon idly. “Enough preface. Due to the size and ungainliness of the weapon, my choice in form is obvious. Niman is the form most often used by those wielding saber staffs. Though it is not a saber staff, my saber pike still requires a great deal of balance and expert handling to fully exploit its abilities. And although it is a form that does not fully commit to any one style, Form VI allows for flexibility and a wide incorporation of other weapons and abilities.”

He turns the dagger over in his left hand. “As I said, Lord Vexx, I consider it silly when Sith become solely reliant on their lightsaber. The Jedi used to intone that ‘this weapon is your life.’ Ridiculous! They have gotten it the wrong way ‘round. A Sith’s life is his weapon. His fullness, every aspect of his being, must be pulled together to create a living weapon far greater than anyone can hope to defeat. This is why I strive for Form VI, because while using my lightsaber in moderation, I can conjure illusions, lift objects from the ground behind my opponent and pelt him with it, ply him with lightning, force him backwards with a Force-aided push, wield daggers or blasters in my off hand like the shoto lightsaber of old. A proper master of Niman becomes an agent of chaos, with so many larger games being played that his opponent becomes confused, distracted, and then,” he sweeps his pike in a large curve, “dead.”

He walks a small distance away from the General, then turns abruptly. “Furthermore. I also aim in combat to dominate the mind of my opponent. Whether this is through illusions, mind shards, feeding off their fear and burning them alive in their terror, or pure and simple mockery and belittlement, I do not consider an opponent defeated unless they are completely subdued in both body and will. Challenging someone to a duel affords them a certain respect, the ground even between them, a battle of equals. I wish to win a battle because I am truly superior to them, and they know it. I want their deaths to be meaningless and empty, robbed of all respect and dignity, slipping away while hearing my mocking laughter or watching me walk away without even a second thought directed at them once they are extinguished. Thus, I seek to also incorporate the practice of Dun Möch.”

Returning closer to Vexx, he deactivates the blade, tucking the dagger into a small pouch on his belt into which it fits perfectly. “My apologies for the lengthiness of my response, my Lord. I hope that I have adequately conveyed, not only my chosen weapon and form, but also my purposes in combat which inform a larger view of that form.”

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

The Krigsbefallaf can sense the desperate desire to escape in the young man who would appear to be his prey at the moment. He has effectively placed Sharkish’ki in a flight-or-fight position and removed the option to flee. The warrior has no choice but to fight now and Vexx trusts that, with what he has already endured and survived, Sharkish’ki will find the means by which to fight.

At first, Vexx is concerned that his student will not grasp that this is purely a mental battle, but then he feels it; that resistance like someone pulling back on a door he is trying to pry open. Sharkish’ki has found a grip. Now all he has to do is focus on closing the Krigsbefallaf off from intruding on his memories. Vexx will by no means make this easy, but he is confident that he will eventually be pushed and locked out, which will hopefully open a grand window of understanding for the rising Cruor warrior.

He pulls at another wisp of Sharkish’ki’s unsavory memories, seeking to advance the young Sith’s anger. He must become angry enough to effectively evict Vexx from his mind, just as Vexx had once become furious enough with his own master to force him out and seal off his memories from those who had no right to meddle with them. It is a battle of wills; an exercise meant to strengthen the inexperienced against the veteran. Then and only then will Sharkish’ki be better equipped to outmaneuver the mind games so many Sith love to play.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC - Sharkish'Ki
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

The creature continued to jeer at him, the teeth of which seemed to ooze saliva. The whole apparition was as over-exaggerated as the reaction Sharkish'Ki gave it, and yet the fear and rage it caused was just what he needed to be able to counter the trial Lord Vexx had initiated. He could feel the Force within him, the room, and Lord Vexx, and now he knew he could tap into it.

Sharkish'Ki continued to hold his arm out in front of him, disrupting the waves of Force washing over him. His rage had grown, as the creature's condescending laughter penetrated him. He fed on the rage as he began to fortify his mind, and watched as the creature began to vanish from the feet upward. It shimmered and faded, like the reflection on the ripples of water. The pale features of the mirage darkened further still, as it's colours began to blend into the dark, sandy stone work of the background.

"I see it, my Lord, the power..." Sharkish'Ki strained his speech as the Force swelled within him, his anger toward his situation, and the stimulation granted by the visualisation of his memory. A nightmare made manifest. "I see what you're doing. What the Dread Sorcerers did. My pain; my hatred; my anger... my emotion; it fuels me!"

The creature moved to stroke Sharkish'Ki's face, its left talons raking deep furrows down the stone toward his shoulder, whist the other reached down to cup his ear in a soothing caress that only a mother or lover could provide. The motion of comfort twisted his fear and guilt into resentment and anger as he scowled fiercely into the eyes of the corrupt matriarch. "You think you stopped me!? You just made me stronger!" He pushed his words through gritted teeth. His anger became rage that fuelled a roar toward the apparition, in a vain attempt to intimidate it into submission as the creature vanished before him in whisps that carried a diminishing laugh.

His mind felt calm, like the pressure of a volcanic eruption had subsided. Now there was only himself.

And Lord Vexx.

@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber V

The Krigsbefallaf knows he is in for a very detailed presentation when it comes to Senec. He has observed Lady Traya’s apprentice a great deal from the obscurity afforded by the shadows of the rafters in various Sith gathering places. It comes as no surprise when the Camaasi describes everything in fine detail, adding to his presentation by demonstrating his weapon of choice. All the while, Vexx maintains quiet attentiveness, though his expression eludes to nothing aside from one point in Senec’s narrative that evokes a decidedly deeper scowl than the one that normally rests upon the Krigsbefallaf’s masked visage.

He never speaks until the apprentice concludes his presentation and even then, his words are slow coming as gently pacing takes precedence over speaking. Clearly he is in deep thought, ruminating and digesting all the details Senec has presented. It is safe to assume the Kaleesh warrior is also thinking ahead, deciding from this information exactly how to customize Senec’s training so that he will get the most out of it. At last, he comes to a standstill, though his gaze is fixed pensively on the floor with the strangest touch of sadness.

“I will never say to you that your weapon is your life,” his rumbling voice finally penetrates the stillness of the chamber, “This is the first time I am hearing such a foolish statement and it only gives me one more reason to despise the Jedi and their nonsensical teachings. Your weapon is your comrade. When you are on a solo mission, that blade,” he gestures toward Senec’s saber pike, “will be the only companion crouched in the trenches with you. What runs between comrades in the tension that is the battlefield? Trust. You must trust your weapon, but before you can trust your weapon, you must first trust yourself; your gut. With proper training, it will seldom mislead you. In my experience, it is those times in which I fail to go with my gut that I find myself in an unfavorable situation.”

He takes to circling Senec, not so much for the sake of intimidation, but more for the purpose of sizing up and analyzing his build; his stature. He has some solid ideas to incorporate into this one’s training that he is excited about. Perhaps Senec will even catch traces of that excitement pulsing through his presence in the Force. It might give the lesser Sith cause for nervousness and so it should. As a rule, anything Vexx gets excited about usually involves a great deal of effort.

“You are of a slight build, Apprentice,” he states, not intentionally demeaning or derogatory, but purely observational, “You are also burdened by more years than most at entry level into the Sith Academy. At a glance, this is most unfortunate. However, you speak of illusions quite passionately. I am not an illusionist or sorcerer by any stretch of the imagination, but I can and will teach you how to be an illusion. I ask you now, what is your first impression of me? Forget what you have seen me do in combat and look at me as though you have never seen me before. What would you assume my form is based upon my appearance alone?”

This question holds much weight to it in what Vexx is about to divulge and he hopes that, as they progress, this exchange that is building will stick with Senec for a lifetime. The Krigsbefallaf stands as still as stone now, silently inviting Senec to circle and analyze him from all angles as the cyborg had just done to him moments prior.

Tag: @Senec Tinople

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

The Krigsbefallaf watches attentively as Sharkish’ki struggles to combat his own memories dragged to the forefront of his mind by the cyborg himself. Though he is as watchful as a hawk, Vexx maintains a front of indifference aided by the constant and unchanging visage his faceplate affords him. He can feel the Death Warrior’s strength in the Force building as he begins to push back against Vexx’s intrusion on his mind.

He says nothing as Sharkish’ki speaks to him. Where his own master had needed to guide him into his own power through vocal direction, Vexx knows Sharkish’ki is nowhere near as stubborn as he. The Force is already awakened and active in the younger Sith. Vexx had done everything in his power to shun what he could not understand at the time.

Finally, the illusion breaks, ripped from Vexx’s grasp and locked away once again in the vault that is Sharkish’ki’s memory. The Krigsbefallaf is pleased with this progress, but there is still much work to be done.

“Do you have a better understanding of what happened to you?” he asks, the runes in his armor glowing eerily as they swirl in a calm hypnotic pattern where he holds his place in the deeper shadows of the chamber, “More importantly, do you fully understand what you must do to guard yourself in the future? What did it feel like when you finally began to grasp what you thought was beyond your control?”

Vexx already knows what it feels like, having been through it himself. Many years have passed since that time, but it had been a major turning point in his life and so it is a moment in which the details will never be forgotten. He is asking Sharkish’ki to describe the experience, however, for a very specific reason.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Tobbi Airskipper]

IC: Aeron Jaegar
~Vassek III - The Lair of Grievance Vexx~

Aeron walked through the hallways of the lair of Grievance Vexx; the acolyte could feel the Darkside oozing in the air, swelling and filling the atmosphere. Any sane individual would've felt the chills of this twisted palace and would've walked away. However, Aeron was not sane; he was beyond it, a clarity that could only be reached by those who were determined and knowledgeable. Lord Vexx must've done this intentionally to draw only those who were serious about learning the art of combat and not those who signed up on a complete and utter whim.

Aeron had recently dueled Lord Xxys and lost; not unexpected since the power difference between the two was vast. Aeron had displayed skill and tenacity in that duel, so it was a bit puzzling to see him here of all places. However, to Aeron, it was completely natural; his hunger for knowledge was great. Despite having been mostly self-taught with some supplemental training by the Seyugi dervishes, it was hardly enough; Aeron wanted to fully learn the ins and outs of combat.

“Hello there.”

A skeletal and imposing being addressed Aeron.

“You have come to train, yes?”

Aeron nods.

“I am Lord Grievance Vexx, Krigsbefallaf of House Cruor and this... "

Lord Vexx points to the room below.

“This is where you will learn to become a master duelist.”

Aeron bows, "I'm honored to learn under you Lord Vexx."

TAG:
@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IX

The cyborg’s sallow eyes had been watching Aeron’s every move from the time he had exited the shuttle that had brought him to the remote third moon of Vassek. He had sensed his presence in the Force and weighed and measured it long before the acolyte had ever made it to his doorstep. Vexx already has a pretty good idea of what type of clay he will be working with here and that clay will be pummeled and pounded a bit before it is ready to be put through the fire.

The Krigsbefallaf leads his newest student to a vacant training room, set up specifically for melee combat. Aeron needn’t worry about his damaged and unusable lightsaber, for it would seem Lord Vexx has quite a collection of weapons the hopeful acolyte could borrow. Lightsabers as well as antiquated Kaleesh weapons adorn the walls on every side. Some of the lightsabers were inherited; others he had earned himself.

“This is where we begin, Acolyte,” Vexx’s rumbling voice echoes in the cavernous chamber, “I will help you lay the foundations to become a formidable duelist, brick by brick. The first one, however, will not require you to even lay a hand on a weapon. Every duel begins in the mind and this is what we will strengthen first and foremost.”

He takes a clawed hand and places it on the crown of Aeron’s head, sharp digits just barely indicating that they are perfectly capable of drawing blood with the right amount of pressure. He leaves his claws there for a moment, sensing the reflexive tension in his new student.

“Your conflict with Lord Xxys has its merits,” he continues calmly, “Yet it was painfully short. Do you know why this is, Acolyte?” The question is rhetorical. Vexx does not expect Aeron to answer. Instead, he answers his own question. “You lack a vision. There is an old saying: where there is no vision, the people perish. Understanding begins here, so pay attention.”

He releases Aeron’s head from his grasp with a slight shove and paces away a few steps. Standing with his back turned to the acolyte, his hands clasped under the heavy cloak draping his broad shoulders, the cyborg lets silence stretch for a moment before speaking again.

“I want you to think of one descriptive word you want opponents to associate with you when they meet you in battle,” he states with deliberate slowness, emphasizing the weight and the seriousness of this task, “It is a word that has been with you all your life. You will realize that when you find it. It will feel like a well-crafted weapon gripped in your hand—one custom made especially for you; your destiny. Search your soul and when you have found it, tell me what it is and why it suits you. This is very important, Aeron Jaeger. Choose carefully. For this word, whatever it is, will become your battlecry.”

OOC- This task is precisely what it appears to be. Find a single word that you aim to have applied to you in battle. Take as long as you need and feel free to use resources such as thesaurus.com to expand your vocabulary. You may think of a cool word that has an even cooler-sounding synonym you didn’t know about. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me here on the forums. I look forward to seeing what word resonates with your fighting spirit.

Tag: @Darth Abdul

 

[Tobbi Airskipper]

IC: Aeron Jaegar

Aeron shivered as Lord Vexx placed his cold metallic hands on his head; he didn't expect such an action to happen, but there it was. Aeron grew more nervous as Lord Vexx placed the fingers around the cranium; the fingers were sharp, very sharp. At any moment, the cyborg lord could puncture his head, and he'd be unable to stop it.

“Your conflict with Lord Xxys has its merits, et it was painfully short. Do you know why this is, Acolyte? ...You lack a vision. There is an old saying: where there is no vision, the people perish. Understanding begins here, so pay attention.”

Lord Vexx's note about his duel with Lord Xxys was shocking to Aeron; such a thing wasn't ever brought up to him before; he had never foreseen that a fault with the duel which took place could be seen as painfully short. Aeron nodded, he did lack vision, and the criticism made all the sense in the world. Aeron had never considered that a duel could ever be too short; he only thought it could be too long. But the fact that there was a criticism to be made confirmed that Aeron had areas he could definitely improve upon.

Then came the ultimate shocker; Lord Vexx wanted Aeron to ponder on a word that best described him; however, for Aeron, it came to him instantly, but he pondered on why he felt it described him.

"Vehement," Aeron echoed.

"To be Vehement is to be forceful; I want my enemies to know that they're facing a force of nature, one that never stops moving until his enemies are destroyed. I also feel this applies to me best because I've been described as both unrelenting and vigorous."

TAG:
@Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IX

Grievance Vexx had stood quietly in the shadows, diminishing his own presence down to almost nothing so his newest student could have the time and space to think. Even the Sith runes glowing crimson in his faceplate and on his shoulder pauldrons had dimmed until they were almost black. The Krigsbefallaf is renowned for his patience; waiting is neither uncomfortable nor tedious to him.

He knows his words have shaken Aeron and so they should. He knows the ins and outs of the duel for that is what he lives and breathes. He thrives in combat in the same way most Sith thrive in darkness and though he is patiently waiting, he is far from idle. His mind is planning ahead; strategizing; constructing the very path this so far determined acolyte will walk in order to become a better duelist.

As Aeron shares the descriptive word he wishes to attach to himself, the runes in Vexx’s armor slowly build back to the crimson hue, swirling like lava between his fiery eyes. A deep rumbling chuckle echoes off the stone walls, synthetic and eerie, and the acolyte may suspect that the Krigsbefallaf is laughing at him.

“Vehement, you say?” he asks, letting the word rumble slowly through his vocabulator as though he has never heard or spoken it before, “You are unrelenting, I will give you that. It will take some refining to make you vehement, but it can be done.”

The cyborg takes to pacing, a self-soothing habit that satisfies his need for movement and something he often lapses into when he is thinking. He circles Aeron, not with the intent of intimidation, but that will come across anyway. His presence simply is just that: intimidating.

“So...you have your word, which is now the battlecry of your heart and the goal you should have set before you every time you engage an opponent.” His words are spoken with deep-seated conviction. There can be no mistake; the Kaleesh has lived what he teaches. “This is the one ember in your soul that you cannot allow to die no matter how the odds are stacked against you. In the end, you may be left with no choice but to yield, but you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you gave your all and put up one hell of a fight.” Another pause; weighted. Heavy. “Unfortunately, there will be times when your goal is simply not enough. Combat gets tough. You become overwhelmed and a sense of defeat...failure...loss...comes to swallow up how vehement you thought yourself to be. What will you do then?”

It is another rhetorical question. Vexx does not expect Aeron to answer this. The cyborg holds the answer and he graciously gives it to the young acolyte as he continues. “Music is a wonderful thing enjoyed by all, yes?” A chuckle escapes him at the blank and bewildered look that flits across Aeron’s face. It may seem silly and completely unrelated to dueling, but there is a point to this curveball question. “Music has the power to inspire; to calm; to bolster courage and fortify confidence. Your next task is to find your fight song, Aeron Jaeger. Find lyrics that speak to your fighting spirit and fan that fire into an inferno unstoppable. Let it be the wind in your vehement sails propelling you toward victory. When you have found your fight song, let it resound through the Force so that I too can know what you have chosen to embrace.”

OOC- Congratulations, Aeron Jaeger. You are now stepping into Lesson 2 of Counterstrike training. You will receive a PM further explaining the expectations presented here. Once you receive the PM, if you have further questions, feel free to ask.

Tag: @Darth Abdul

 

[Tobbi Airskipper]

IC - Aeron Jaegar
Vassek III - Training Chamber IX

Aeron headed the words of Lord Vexx and pondered upon them in regards to the name he chose, it seemed like the cybernetic Lord didn't fully buy into Aeron's choice of Vehement, or maybe Aeron's explanation wasn't good enough, a thing Aeron was slightly agitated at. The name suited him, and he was going to convince Lord Vexx that it fully encapsulated him with this assignment.

"If you'll excuse me, Lord Vexx," stated Aeron as he sat on the floor and meditated on the various and possibly hundreds of different songs that he's heard throughout his life. Aerin would normally choose an instrumental song for this occasion; however, Lord Vexx clarified that whatever melody Aeron chose needed to have words that one hundred percent meant something to Aeron and fully explain why. It took a while, but a mental image of the name and a song's tune came to him, but Aeron now knew that he had the perfect song in mind, and he wanted to show Lord Vexx that it truly meant something to him and his soul. And like Lord Vexx wanted plus mentioned, it was inspirational enough to rouse Aeron's imagination and spirit within the deepest on darkest times. One that'll rouse Aeron to fight until he couldn't anymore.

[Verse 1]
Everyone down on the floor
No sudden moves and lock the door
I've got this feeling I'm chasing
I'll never rest until I find it

"This verse perfectly encaptures how ambitious I am and how I'll never rest nor feel satisfied unless I achieved the said goal. In fact, there are times when I go too far, and I must reign this feeling in as sometimes I try to fight against it, and I waste endless amounts of time trying to do something impossible to achieve my goals."

[Pre-Chorus 1]th
I've been plotting away in my heart every day
To put this plan into action
And though I try to resist, I find the thing is this
Until I get it, there's no satisfaction

"This chorus goes over how I'm not a reckless brute that charges in without a plan, but instead, I make calculated moves to achieve my goals and gain power. And once again, it has hammered home that when I have a mind on an idea, I can never abandon it; I can only temporarily redirect my energies elsewhere. However, the idea will persist unless I find a way to enact or complete this idea fully."

[Chorus 1]
I want something you have
I want it oh so bad
Don't move; hand it over!
I won't stop till it's in my hands!

"As a hunter of knowledge, I am often hounded because I pursue such things and often told that learning about such things is beyond my comprehension and some pasts should stay buried. But if it is supposed to be buried, how can we learn from it? I usually ask but am often denied such clearance as some people; it would be better if such a thing never came to light as it would harm their reputations. However, if only those that hid that knowledge from me would learn is that they should tell me, and it would be better if I heard the news from them instead of something or someone else, they would have my trust, however, to deny me such access would only ensure that sneak off and learn it myself. The cult that raised me learned this the hard way, as knowledge is something I heavily prioritize."

[Verse 2]
Deep in the recess of every man
Is a thief, a robber, a criminal
Below the surface of every hero's
An envy, a restless evil

"Here, the song mentions envy, which is another huge part of me as I am eager to impress and display my skills. Yet, I know that my skills are nothing compared to people like you, Lord Vexx, and I still have so much to learn. A frustrating reality for me as I know that despite how much I improved, at the end of the day, I'm not as skilled as I like to be, and it's going to be a long journey before I fully get there, Lord Vexx and it's a reality that I accept. However, this will be the end of the analysis of the first song, as, after this point, it only continues to hammer home the previous I mentioned."


Song 2

Most Relevant lyrics:

Beaten, why for
Can't take much more
(Here we go, here we go, here we go now)
One, nothing wrong with me
Two, nothing wrong with me
Three, nothing wrong with me
Four, nothing wrong with me
One, something's got to give
Two, something's got to give
Three, something's got to give now


"This song also has something of relevance to me. It is a song I chose for a specific phrase that I feel fully encapsulates who I am and one of my biggest weaknesses, so of course, it had to be included in this task as it reminds me that in my lowest I tend to rue my situation and myself, a habit of me constantly overthinking and being at constant envy of whatever skills someone else has while I don't. Even now, these thoughts boil into my brain and soul, angering me, causing me to remember unpleasant memories of my loved ones being killed for a single character trait of mine. However, this song will give me the biggest boost I need when facing defeat as it reminds my soul that there is nothing wrong with me nor my inquisitive nature, I am who I am, and I should embrace that as if I wasn't me then I would still be stuck on that cultish planet of Dyspeth."

Aeron sighed as he explained everything to Lord Vexx; this task took a lot of soul searching, so Aeron hoped he had completed it to great satisfaction.

TAG:
@Grievance Vexx

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC - Sharkish'Kiw
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Sharkish'Ki shook out of his focus, and his arm slumped to his side as his chin dropped to his chest. It was a relief that bordered exhaustion, as his concentration on the Force clearly fatigued him. He hung motionless against the wall like a still-life, surrounded in a thin cloud of sandstone dust, as the last reminder of his newfound power lingered in the close air. He watched the particles ebb and flow with his breath, as the figure of Lord Vexx seemed to skulk in the background of his immediate periphery, cloaked in the shadows provided by the overhead walkways.

"I feel a sense of clarity, my Lord. I no longer fear exposure," He almost whispered to himself in reply, assuming his master would hear his words in the reformed stillness. "These memories are rarely shared with anyone... in fact, between you and those Dread Sorcerers, you've plucked more of these feelings out of me than I would care to share myself!" He wasn't sure if there was a reason for that. He knew that there was something within him that hungered for the resentment and anger he held for his parent. To pull apart his past was to invite guilt, anguish and terror, and he'd felt it before, but differently; it was as if someone or something had decided that he was no longer allowed access to this part of his life; this pain. Yet the Sith had found a way to pick holes in these... defences.

Lord Vexx had encouraged his own kind of defence, as Sharkish'Ki tucked his mind away inside the shield provided by the Force. "The Force is a shield, as much as a weapon or tool" He close his eyes, as if searching for any kinks in his new-found mental armour. "I can feel the tension I exert on it in my mind." Squeezing his eyes tighter, he could feel the strain causing fatigue. "This will need practice, but I understand the process." He opened his eyes, and allowed them to refocus on the room before him, before quickly locking on to the oddly glowing shapes that adorned his master. "I don't understand why these memories haunt me, or why they were hidden from me in the first place. But being able to defend myself against their use is... useful. Ha!" He smirked, as a slight feeling of elation washed over him.

The joy continued as he realised his position. Pinned to a wall. He couldn't explain his emotions any better than he could explain his past. To flit so easily between hatred, anger, and happiness; any one else would see the signs of a madman. But for a Sith? There is strength to be found in all emotions, and upon discovering their usefulness as a source of proverbial fuel for the Force, Sharkish'Ki realises his potential is merely limited by his training. Where once, he would fear his memories, as they continued to manifest in his physical reality; he now considers playing advocacy for them. For the first time in his known history, he considers luring them out, and probing deeper. Where would they lead? Who walled them off in the first place, and why? A scowl formed upon his face as his master continued to wander in the shadows.

Perhaps now was not the time for this line of enquiry. Perhaps his masters had other plans...

TAG: @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IX

Vexx inclines his head to Aeron as he settles himself on the floor and requests a moment. Though first impressions suggest that he is a bully and a brute judging by his build alone, this idea couldn’t be further from the truth about the mechanical monster that is the Krigsbefallaf of House Cruor. He respectfully grants the young acolyte the time and space to contemplate and reflect, fading to the background once again and dimming his presence in the Force so much so that Aeron may believe he is truly alone.

Soul searching is something that Grievance Vexx has somewhat mastered within himself; always aware of his own presence. It is a key to survival when one is in battle, whether they are in it for the constant long haul of war or they are in it periodically as personal conflicts arise. It all ties back to the infamous and timeless Art of War.

“This is an exercise in knowing yourself, Aeron Jaeger,” he once again allows his presence to become stronger in the room as the acolyte indicates that he is ready, “You have done well in not only acknowledging your perceived strengths, but also your potential weaknesses. To pursue knowledge is a very good trait; however, one must be careful not to pursue it to his own detriment. Choose your battles and whether the knowledge you pursue is worth the risk presented at the time. I have pursued knowledge into the pits of hell, but I have never done so when my heart was blinded by pride. Always search your soul and check your motives before you engage in taking a risk. There are some things knowledge will take from you that you can never get back.”

There is a peculiar note of sorrow to his synthetic tone as though he speaks from tragic experience. Aeron may be fortunate enough to learn the reason one day, but for now, the Krigsbefallaf remains closed off beyond the subtle difference in his tone.

“You have done well,” he continues, “I would encourage you to always be listening. Music is everywhere. Cantinas, markets, festivities. It speaks to all in a way nothing else can. Be wary of what you are hearing. A lyric may tug on your ear and you come to discover yet another song to add to the soundtrack of your life. It will keep you inspired even when times are at their darkest.”

He paces away to a random wall and looks up at the many weapons adorning it. In truth, it is an absent perusal, but Aeron might suspect and possibly even fear that the cyborg warlord has grown bored and may be seeking to entertain himself by playing a rousing game of “slice and dice the acolyte”. It is a few moments before he shifts his gaze back to his newest student and speaks again.

“Tell me, Acolyte Aeron Jaegar, what is your chosen lightsaber form?” he asks, coming to stand mere feet away from Aeron once again, “Tell me why you have chosen it. How intimately do you know this form of your choosing? I would also ask that you tell me about your broken lightsaber. I already know how it was broken, but explain to me what it was before now. How was it crafted specifically for you?”

OOC- This begins Lesson 3. You are progressing nicely.

Tag: @Darth Abdul

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Vexx can sense the feeling of victory and accomplishment in his apprentice and he does not begrudge him reveling in these feelings. He has earned them in this moment, just as he will work hard to earn every scrap of power and prestige his climb through the ranks has to offer.

The Krigsbefallaf’s recent encounter with his own master has freshened his memories as an apprentice. While none of that experience will ever be lost to him, there are details that now have a sharper clarity, linking his past to his present and his present to his future. Like flawless pearls strung together, each lesson forms a priceless treasure. His master had invested unsparing amounts of time and energy into him and it would be a dishonor to Draconis if Vexx does anything short of the same for Sharkish’ki.

“It pleases me to know you so readily understand this lesson,” his gravelly mechanical voice at last penetrates the cavernous silence, “I will be the first to admit that I was not so perceptive as you when I was made to endure a similar schooling.”

Again, he can feel Sharkish’ki boldly drawing on the power, fueling the inevitable addiction that comes the more one devotes oneself to the Dark Side. In time, however, he can also sense his apprentice experiencing the fatigue he himself is all too familiar with.

“It is a balancing act, Apprentice,” he offers quietly, “The power comes at a price. Always. You must choose how much every risk is worth when you call upon your powers. Sever Force is my most potent power; I suppose it stems from my lifelong resistance to my own gift of the Force. In any case, when I use it, substantial stamina is lost. You must always carefully weigh your risks against all potential outcomes. You never want to use so much of your own rope that you hang yourself with it. Paradoxically, in training, you will find that it is when you are tired that you begin to progress.”

He had been utterly exhausted when he had finally kicked his master out of his mind and reclaimed his will over his own memories. The Krigsbefallaf chuckles mirthlessly as he recalls Sharkish’ki mentioning he no longer fears exposure.

“In time, you will fear nothing, Apprentice,” he continues, his amber gaze distant; reflective, “One day, you will be able to gaze upon the grim visage of death itself and feel nothing but solidarity. Tell me something, Krigare, if death were to come for you—and mark my words, it will—what do you wish to be remembered for? How do you to desire to immortalize yourself and your memory for all eternity?”

It seems like vanity on the surface, but Grievance Vexx is not one to be considered given over to vanity. He is certainly no Lord Pravum. If anything, whatever he says and whatever he does has a deep and monstrous meaning beneath the surface. Indeed, there is a purpose behind his question and that purpose will hinge entirely on Sharkish’ki’s answer. He knows there is a common thread that runs between them; an honor code. This will indeed be a topic for intense discussion as the aspiring warrior continues his training with Lord Vexx.

Tag: @Sharkish’Ki

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC - Death Apprentice Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Sharkish’Ki’s senses calmed. His back ached, and yet there was a comfort to be found in the telekinetic embrace of his master, accompanied by a slight dread that at any moment he could ‘lose’ his focus and send him plummeting two stories. For the time being, his bird’s-eye view of the atrium saw Lord Vexx commingle with the surrounding shadows, his frame still picked out by the runes that adorned him. They flickered and glimmered, as his words glided through the space between them.

Sharkish’Ki‘s cogs started turning. He remembered General Invadator asking something very similar. His answer had come as more of an agreement with his master; whatever happens, happens.

“My Lord, that’s no easy question, and certainly not one that can be answered from up here!” He chuckled. “My death will come at the end of a blade, or quietly in my sleep as an old man, Force permitting. Though I hear the latter isn’t the Sith way?” He scowled.

A slight pause, and he continued. “My plan, upon joining the Sith, was to train my powers. They’d been dormant for some time now… Beyond that, my destiny is yet to be formed. I am someone you can depend on,” he frowned, “perhaps that’s something to be remembered for. Honourable deeds worthy of note have yet to happen for the likes of me, but you can depend on me to achieve them!” There was a slight growl in his voice, emphasising his determination to succeed amongst his fellow Cruorites.

“Tell me, master: what do you see in my future? Do you have the power to reveal my destiny?” His eyes squinted, almost daring his master to tell him his fate.

TAG: @Grievance Vexx

 

[Grievance Vexx]

IC - Lord Grievance Vexx
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Though they are all Sith, some capable of turning on each other in a heartbeat, Grievance Vexx finds it more worthwhile for those around him to feel a certain confidence in his presence. As much as he prides himself in striking fear into the hearts of his foes, he values the opportunity to be an anchor for his comrades in times of turbulence. He can sense Sharkish’ki feeling out this quality now, understanding that though many things are destined to change in his life, it is unlikely that the Krigsbefallaf’s solidarity ever will.

“Indeed, it would be a rarity if you were fortunate enough to wither away in aged unconsciousness,” he replies, doing nothing to hide the grim reality of the life they have both chosen, “But who am I to say what will or will not end you when I cannot even determine that for myself?”

At last, he decides to leave the shadows draping the outer edges of the room and he moves toward the better lighting of the center. In the contrasting light and shadow, one can see the pitted scars of battle on his cybernetic armor. Burn marks from blaster bolts, streaking scores from both steel and plasma blades dealing him punishment, fractures that had come from the impacts of explosions or perhaps falls. While much of his armor does eventually get replaced, he isn’t one to submit to replacement until something is no longer functional, hence his battle-scarred appearance; an issue over which he and A4-D have done a lifetime of arguing.

“Dependable,” he murmurs as though testing the adjective as he would the weight of a new weapon in his hand, “Yes. You have certainly proven to be so, Apprentice. As for seeing your future, well...” he pauses with something of a sad laugh that ends with a cough, “If I had such powers of foresight, I might not be living my life this way.” He gestures toward his cybernetic body. Indeed, if he had only known the cost of his youthful pursuits.

“I can tell you this,” he continues, “Beware that your dependability does not accentuate your expendability. There are those within the Empire that wouldn’t give second thought to exploiting your strength as a weakness. Guard it...and guard your honor. I can almost guarantee that you will encounter some who believe there can be no honor among Sith. This is a lie; one in which I almost believed myself. This life will change you; it is part of surviving. But there are some things built into your very nature...the core of your being...that needn’t be sacrificed.”

The etchings in his armor pulse and glow eerily with what can only be perceived as deep-seated passion as he says all of this. He knows because his own life has proven these truths. In fact, the passion with which he speaks is so personal, Sharkish’ki may feel just the slightest nudge of fear as the Krigsbefallaf takes up one of his blades.

“We are finished here, Apprentice,” he announces with deadly finality, “For now. Come. This classroom is not big enough for what we must do. Bring your weapon.”

OOC- We will be taking a field trip, @Sharkish’Ki. Feel free to respond to this if you like, but expect another tag soon.

 

[Sharkish’Ki]

IC - Death Apprentice Sharkish’Ki
Vassek III - Training Chamber IV

Sharkish’Ki was let go. He felt his stomach lurch as the g-force of his weight suddenly reminded him of his mortality. His mind snapped into focus as he rapidly fell to meet the stones beneath him. Pushing down with the Force, he slowed his descent, sending a plume of dust and sand outwards as his feet hitting the hard tiles; he was only human, after all, and falling two stories would likely shatter something in his lower extremities.

He wasn’t sure whether to grin at his controlled landing, or scowl at the Krigsbefallaf for dropping him. True to Sharkish’Ki’s nature, he chose the former, seeing it as yet another challenge to overcome. The Kaleesh emerged from the shadows, his runes quieting with each hefty, purposeful stride toward Sharkish’Ki. There was the briefest nod of approval toward the human as his giant, metal frame quickly stomped past the recovering apprentice with his hands clasped behind his back.

Sharkish’Ki was close on his heels, as the door behind them smoothly grinded and thudded closed.

 

[Tobbi Airskipper]

Nothing to see here.