Jedi vs Sith -- Rematch (CLOSED/SPLIT)

[Sirithe]

I'm in, me and Pontus agreed to battle, I'll let Pontus intro first, and I remember you said you won't be here until Sunday. 1-3-1 Okay?

[Pontus]

There are no real constrictions, except for the fact that the Jedi must post their intro first when battling. This is because they are invading wherever the Sith may be.

That means you intro first, Sirithe. 1-3-1 is great I'll see you all on sunday.

[CrazyHobo]

im in, so when are we going to start this thing?

[Newtype06]

Im ready and willing to take any willing Jedi

[Snyper]

Malak, your not on the list. Anyways ill take on Number_1_DM.

[Number_1_DM]

Challenge accepted... you get to lead off Snyper.

Note: I will always try to post within a day or two of yours. However, if I get delayed, I will let you know when to expect my next post.

[Snyper]

Dont expect anything today, tomarrow most definantly. I hate being sick, cant concentrait on anything.

[Number_1_DM]

Know how you feel... I'm not in the mood to write anything myself. Oh, by the way, I was looking for a description of your character and wasn't able to find it. You think you could give me a link?

[Sirithe]

Meh, allright, I'll have it up sometime this week..

[Mr. Blue!]

Jingle Bells!

I'm here! Who do I fight?

[Meathos]

Oh no, Alregdia vs. Morano rematch. :P


1-2-1, or 1-3-1? Who goes first?

[Sirithe]

Jedi go first Neil, its on the post, but I had to have it pointed out to me too.

[Newtype06]

I hereby Challenge Mr. Blue to an all-out duel

[Knux]

Meh, I got here last. I'm versing LK then, I guess. Hopefully it'll be a challenge for the both of us.

[snoogadie.]

I look forward to it, Meathos. 1-3-1. I'm ready.

[Snyper]

Meathos and Snoogy round two. Nice.

[Mr. Blue!]

Good luck NewType... 1-2-1 or 1-3-1?

[Newtype06]

Im really up for either, but a 1-2-1 would probably be the best

[LK6v3]

Ok, Knux. What do you want? 1-2-1 or 1-3-1? By the way, where's your character's bio? Mine is in the Sith Academy. Since you're a Jedi, you get to start.

[Knux]

A 1-2-1 is fine, I suppose. My bio is here. (http://forums.gamewinners.com/forums/showpost.php?p=5913664&postcount=14)

[LK6v3]

Since my character can use only one saber in the Sith Academy, would you mind only using one as well?

[Meathos]

How about in most, if not all fights, you don't get to see a convienient bio, LK. Feel happy you got that.

Characters use what they use. No one should change the way their characters work because you say so.

[snoogadie.]

You make quite a good point; people should be able to visualise their opponent as the fight progresses, getting to know their style, etc.


Whenever you're ready Meathos.

[Meathos]

Yeah, I'll have something up soon. Hopefully tonight, if not, tomorrow night or Saturday.

School is balls. You know the story, Snoog.

[Snyper]

Number 1, I ought to have something up Sunday but im not sure. My dads being shipped out to Iraq again so it depends on wether im back Sunday, or it could be Monday, then again Tuesday at the latest.

[Snyper]

Sorry for the DP, but no ones done anything so ill start.
----------------------------------

Snyper walked through the open doors. He had been here once before, it was the sight of the last great clash between the Jedi and Sith.

As he walked through the long hall ways that where worn with signs of the battle he passed a door that interested him. He turned, facing the door. All of a sudden he had a flash back to about a year ago. This was the library that he had killed for the first time. He remembered back to that day, he walked into the room and found the book cases turned over.

As he retraced the old battle the force became clouded with the dark side. He knew he was being followed, he chose that location because he got lucky before so maybe he would survive this encounter.

He heard a ship land on a near by landing bay. He dropped his traveling cloak, letting his hair flow behind him. He straitened to his full height of 6’4”. He ignited his deadly blade and extinguished it, just making sure everything was ready.

He force pushed the old shelves across the scorched floors. He cleared the center of the room and sat in the middle, the exact spot in which he threw down his first enemy. He sat and waited…
-----------------------------------------
Short, sweet, and to the point. I hate intros.

[Meathos]

Meathos vs. Snoogadie.
Meathos- Introduction

It was as if they were tearing the colour from the sky- Terribly loud, it all was. He felt as if his ears were cringing, bracing for the next sound wave that came all too early. It was deafening. His heart pounded against him, begging him to stop, yet wishing it would never end. A rut of… Something, perhaps pieces of the transport in front, caused them to rock. Everyone groaned in protest, and they all heard the pilot’s voice croak in their earpieces. A bit of blood specked the visor of his helmet. He looked over, and saw a nervous wreck, complete with stripes and all, digging his nails into the harness which denied him of escape. The man realized he too, was gripping the handles very tightly. Adrenaline is a strange thing.

‘What do they have to be nervous about?’ He thought, ‘It’s only another renegade group of so-called ‘Sith’. Hell, we took out three of these groups in the last four years. Idealists is all they are…’

His ear perked as his communication device crackled in his right ear. “I heard these guys took out some Jedi a few days back.” Sergeant Balmore said as he leaned forward, looking through the small portal to the cockpit, and further out the red-hot blast shield.

“I heard they didn’t.”

“Yeah?”

“I heard we have a Jedi with us for this assault. One that knows the planet, too. Name is-”

“Cut the chatter.” A third voice penetrated the conversation. It was a stern voice, but not one that was not related to. Captain Kalis.

The man looked around him. He saw many others, all dressed in the same armour, buckled into the many seats of the troop dropship. It was basically a heavy lifter modified for speed, with one large cargo container fitted for high altitude drops. Around the outside walls of the cargo container were chairs, behind and above them, more chairs. Three rows in all. In the middle, more seats with more men strapped in. Every available space was used for something, be it seating, walking space, or weapons, ammunition and medical supply storage. It was all a dark blue, the straps and weapons black.

Their armour was not typical Republic issue; but they were not Republic-issue troops. They were, in fact, Mandalorian. Their bulky and less than new armour fitted each of them, and each of them only. They all bore the colours of the 9th Airborne. Their helmets were round at the top, and cylindrical in form, save the front. On the front, the cylinder had been cut to form a ‘T’ shape. The pieces beside the vertical cut had been hammered in, creating parabolic indents that seemed to support the horizontal cut. Their armour consisted of plates over a fibre mesh jumpsuit. Their chest pieces were three slabs positioned to protect the abdominal region and the pectorals. Each had matching decals on the right side.

The Republic had 'asked' for the Mandalorians to help their expanding empire support itself in battle. The Core knew damn well how vicious the Mandalorians were, even if almost none of them were pure. Years before, as the Galactic Empire was born, it's Sith Lord, Darth Vader, had attacked and 'wiped out' the Mandalorians; a few had survived. Those few went on to teach the Mandalorian ideals and honour to their offspring, captives, anyone they could. It had been over three centuries, but the Mandalorians had conquered many worlds in the name of the Republic. The hypocrites took prisoners and forced them to fight after being brainwashed with their ideas.

The story was rather famous around the Mandalore, they all knew it, and were all proud of it. Even those who fought against them, ad were captured, knew that there was honour in battle. After they were brainwashed for months, they hadn’t a shadow of a doubt in their clouded, now simple minds. Now, the group of men, differing in origin, but alike in honour, sat and looked at each other. They’d live and die for each other.

Then, the rumbling stopped. Every ear in that box was ringing. All they heard was the muffled sound of cutting air and whizzing blaster bolts. The pilot barked something, but the man did not hear it. Then, a crash, a jolt. A few soldiers had smashed their heads on the bulkheads, and were either knocked unconscious, or were deceased. One had been leaning the wrong way and had broken his collarbones, and was now flopping around in excruciating pain in the upper deck across from the man.

They’d been hit, and they all knew it.

“Prepare for e-dropping, boys.” Kalis screamed in joy. The pilot was less than thrilled- He’d had no preparation, yet he was sucked out of the broken blast shield and was now trying to dodge turret fire out there.

The man unsheathed a combat vibroknife from his right hip, and cut himself loose. He jumped from his seat, but failed to touch the ‘bottom’ of the carrier. The ship was in a dive, of sorts, spinning slowly. The man simply floated in place for a bit, and looked to be spinning, until he touched the ‘roof’. Several others followed suit.

Before he knew it, light invaded the otherwise dark hold, and he invaded the brilliant sky over the planet he hated, Oblivi IV. The sky was being streaked with blazing ships, exploding bodies and glimmering shrapnel. It was alive with green bolts, red bolts, and blotches of thick black smoke. It’s beautiful white-blue self could hardly be seen…

The man found himself tumbling, so he spread his legs and arms out. He could hear nothing, now, and he could see nothing. The glare from the snow was simply too much. His visor darkened. He could see the battle below and all around him more clearly, now… Incredible.

From where he was, he could see hundreds of dark rectangles with millions of tiny ants streaming from them. He could see stations, all kinds of stations, just letting the ants in. They should know better…
He saw mountains, frozen lakes, snow dunes, laser fire, splattered blood, the formation of lines…

Everything went slow…

The man activated the jetpack which was strapped to him. It slowed his descent, yet he still rocketed into a deep snow dune. The white powder was sent into the moving air, and danced away. He was now fifteen feet under… He clambered out, and was met by a rather horrific sight.

His kin were being cut down by some sort of… Being. It had a lightsaber, so it seemed. He further observed the situation. He could see tanks making their way across the snow, blaster bolts whipping everywhere, more ships falling from the sky. Artillery from somewhere arced overhead and obliterated something, he couldn’t see what. All he could hear was the never ending chirping of blasters, the colossal booming of artillery, and the chatter of vibroblades. It was an impressive symphony.

He stood, took a blaster bolt to his armoured shoulder, and dropped to a knee. He looked to where the shot had come from. No one. Stray shot. He reached across him, and found a slung rifle. He gripped it, breathed a sigh of relief and happiness, and stood. Never had a battlefield looked so… Comfortable. Snow whipped with the wind, soldiers fell in torn bits and landed on soft, pure snow. The sky was ablaze, it was absolute chaos, but to him, it was paradise.

The man raised his rifle to his shoulder, aiming. The ‘Sith’ was in sight, pinned down by about five other soldiers, including the Sergeant. He fired. He saw the blaster bolt fly at the evil being, who simply blocked it. The man stood in disbelief and defeat, his stomach and chest sank in fear. Then, from behind him, came a massive black form. It had leapt over him, and come down hard upon the dark entity he had attacked.

The man heard the two figures arguing, over what he did not know. He heard, over the sounds of battle, a name. Meathos Alregdia, and a title- Jedi. The man suddenly felt inspired. He remembered everything he had done, everything he had destroyed or killed. He realised the scale of the battle he was standing in, and felt proud. Then, he felt his head jerk to one side, and saw his vision engulfed in a sea of darkness. He did not feel the cold touch of the snow. He died.

Meathos stood in front of the ‘Sith’, unarmed. He heard a yelp from behind him, and a soft thud… He’d heard those two sounds come together so many times, but for some reason, this time, it brought back horrible memories of his past.

He had been on the surface, in an ancient temple, which also served as catacombs. He gripped the weapon in his hands, his lifeline, his love, his lady of luck. He saw nothing but the tall icy-blue walls and pillars around him, runes carved in them… Someone stood at his shoulder. The blazing bolts from the blasters had disappeared. He was free, no longer trapped in the deafening, dulling armour… Perhaps not yet trapped.

It all came back to him. As he was standing in the massive, open, pillared room, which seemed to stretch upwards forever, he realised he was remembering it all. Remembering how he had come here with another Padawan friend of his, they were both with their Masters, investigating reports of strange occurrences happening in and around the complexes that stretched upwards, and downwards, for miles…

He and his friend had found the Force Pools in the cavernous rooms. They had gone against their Masters’ orders and gone into the buildings. The Masters assumed they were both tainted and evil, for Oblivi was a cold and evil planet, not suitable or worthy of any life beyond those undeserving of living elsewhere. They had come after them, and attacked. The Padawans walked from those evil walls, yet one was redeemed.

Meathos, after the slaughter on Oblivi IV years before, had travelled around the Galaxy, simply killing and maiming all ‘evil do-ers’ he could find. He had broken his sanity, and was obsessed with clensing the Galaxy of it’s evil taint. However, like all those perverted by the dark side, he was oblivious to the fact he was becoming more and more tainted every day. He flirted and often sided with the darkness, and it aged him. He then found himself on the city-planet of Coruscant, and was redeemed. His sanity, however, was not restored. He was now a quiet, insane man, bent on the destruction of all who opposed him. He had grown accustomed to battle, and had even learned to love it. He was alright right, and to him, a half-Mandalorian, they were all wrong. Especially those damned hypocrites who call themselves the Jedi Council.

“Perhaps the Old Grey Jedi has simply come to die?”

“Perhaps he has come to kill.” Meathos smiled with a shiver from the freezing air. He turned, and walked into the massive structure of ice and stone. He knew his opponent, and he knew there would be no backstabbing until they were both ready to fight. Once inside, he turned and said: “Perhaps he has come to do what he should have done, old friend.”

A white blade screamed from the slender tube in his hand, and danced about him. It flooded the massive, stretching, empty pillared room with light. The hum of the weapon was amplified as it echoed everywhere in the ice. Small pools of water rippled in the sound waves. Another blade joined the dance, illuminating the Sith’s body.

“Ahh, perhaps he has.”





Gets the job done. It was delayed because I am a busy little boy on weekends.

[Mr. Blue!]

SneaselMaster vs. Newtype06
SneaselMaster Intro

The Aqualan IV blazed into the Mon Calamari atmosphere. In the cockpit sat Jedi Knight Kurs Janta, a water-dwelling Nautolan whom had been taken by the order at the age of three. He had pale green skin with two large, lidless black eyes. His dark blue Jedi robes hung in the back room, near the Gungan water tank, along with his lightsabre that when fully extended glowed a brilliant purple.

As the ship slowed Kurs loosened his grip on the controls, making his way to the Mon Calamari city of Kee-Piru. As the ship lowered onto an extended disk Kurs looked at the landscape. The city reminded Kurs of the Cloud City on Bespin, with the major difference being the it floating on murky water instead of bright orange clouds.

The entire city was dead, not a living thing in sight, most likely due to the recent civil wars that plagued the watery planet. This planet had had several before, especially during times of conflict in the galaxy, between its two indigenous species, the Quarren and the Mon Calamari.

The ship landed with a soft thud. The ramp began to extend to the metal ground below. Kurs impatiently walked down it, throwing on his robes and clipping his sabre to his belt. His boots clicked as he headed down towards the entrance to the city. He had to find someone...

[Knux]

LK, sorry to say but don't expect an into from me until Friday or Saturday at the earliest. I'm writing a 4 page paper tonight, an essay on Gatsby tomorrow night, and another 4 page paper the night after. Then Thursday night I'm studying for 2 trimester exams. Friday and Saturday I'm free though, so I'll wait until then to whip something up. With all these other essays on my mind I can't think up something to the best that I can.

[Sirithe]

Sirithe vs. Pontus
Sirithe intro
“Every single Jedi is now an enemy of the Republic!”

Every time Jedi Master Sirithe hears those words, in the holorecording of the “ceremony” where Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, he is glad Palpatine is dead. Those words cursed the Jedi from a large galactic order, to a small amount of people that many in the Galactic Alliance saw as no better than an elite police force.

So much was different in the new Jedi Order than in the original one. The Jedi had a new view of the Force, one where so long as one does what he or she believes the will of the Force to be, they can use any power, even ones formerly seen as Dark Side.

Sirithe lay in his chambers in the new Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a completely new Coruscant than the one the Emperor ruled. This one was a mixture of the Vong-formed Yuuzhan’tar and the rebuilt Coruscant. Now, instead of the Jedi Temple being surrounded by buildings, there was a plain on the front side, and practically in its backyard was a forest where Sirithe did most of his training. As he stood you could see his full height, he stood around 6 feet, and had broad shoulders with an athletic build. He wore his hair short to his head, in a military style crew cut. He was wearing only his light brown inner robes.

He was about to commence more training when his comlink rang. The voice on the other side told him to report to the Council Chambers immediately. As he walked to the council chambers he wondered what Council Member had summoned him, it didn’t sound like one he knew very well.

When he got to the council chamber it was empty, except for one of the masters, Meathos Algredia. “You summoned me Master?” Sirithe inquired.

“Yes, Sirithe, I have a somewhat disturbing holorecording to show you.” Meathos responded.

Sirithe nodded and looked at the holoprojector. A vision of the jungle world Pegca V sprang up. The only reason he knew what planet he was gazing at was because it was a world that haunted his nightmares since the end of the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, a war that occurred when he was only three. That was the world his father was sent to scout out and died on. When he finished reminiscing there was a person standing there in the dark cloaked so that Sirithe could not tell age, gender, or species. It seemed to be male, due to the deep menacing voice he spoke in. He was calling Sirithe out, saying that every two days he didn’t arrive on Pegca, a hostage will die. To illustrate his point the thing brought two malnourished humans in front of the camera, choked one to death with the Force and decapitated the next. Looking back to the camera he said “If you are a true Jedi you will come and attempt to save them.”

“Who the hell was that? And where did we get the recording?” Sirithe asked, desperately.

“We know nothing of the person in the recording, but the recording itself was sent on a ship sent to auto-pilot locked in the jaw of a dead Human.” Meathos responded.

“I guess I’ll go then, I have the coordinates in my R9 already. May the Force be with you.” Sirithe bowed and began walking out of the room.

“I fear you will need it more Sirithe” Meathos responded.

Sirithe nodded and went back to his quarters. He picked up his light saber, and his friend Breed’s old one. He had that since his friend died in the war between the Chiss and Killiks. He sent his R9 to prep his X-Wing and put on his robes. He attached the lightsabers to his belt and walked out. He hopped in his X-Wing a few minutes later, made the only jump to hyperspace he would need and fell into a Jedi hibernation trance.

As he was in the trance, he fell into something that felt like a dream or the Force showing him the past. Him and Breed were Padawans with their masters on a planet in Chiss space occupied by Killiks. They and their masters were sent to attempt to find the Dark Nest agent hidden there. Unfortunately for them all, they did.

He was walking through a Killik nest when he felt an emptiness in the Force down a side corridor, being the dutiful Padawan he was he told his master. They went down the path and found the Dark Nest Killik sub nest. The Dark Nest was a chamber almost like the inside of a beehive, only the holes were filled with Chiss being devoured by Killik larvae.

There were three Killiks waiting in there Sirithe stood back as a rear guard. The Killiks looked like giant ants, only with stings dripping venom, and wings, he was repulsed by the glittering compound eyes constantly moving over the room. They were also exceedingly aggressive. Two of the Killiks were easily killed by the masters, but the third rose and struck down Breed. Sirithe saw this and became enraged, letting his anger take control, he summoned Breeds light saber and igniting his and Breeds ran at the Killik, accidentally spearing the masters, and killing the Killik. That was Sirithes first brush with the Dark Side, but now, now he knew how to better use that anger.

When he woke up a day later he saw himself in the Pegca system looking on the fifth planet. He took his X-Wing in for a landing, after a slow and rather uncomfortable decent, and jumped out of the cockpit. The air was incredibly humid and sticky, but the temperature was not as high as most jungles. The sound of various animals was all around him, as were trees and many types of flowers. “Sith,” Sirithe yelled “I am here! Come out and fight me!”

“All in due time Jedi, all in due time.” A mysterious voice responded from the shadow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meh, intro. Well, its on, 1-3-1 right BEg?

[snoogadie.]

Very nice, Meathos. Won't be able to get one up tonight or tomorrow, but I will start working on it when I have time. For example, I wrote up a bit then.

[Number_1_DM]

Valdis Enide (Sith) Vs. Snyper (Jedi)
Valdis Intro...


Valdis Enide was lost in thought, staring blankly at his twisted dagger. For the first time in his life, the cunning assassin simply marveled at the blade’s beauty. Here, in his very hand, was not only an instrument of death, but a work of art. He relaxed his grip on the handle and allowed the Force to keep the dagger in place… and so it floated before his eyes. Valdis gave the weapon a gentle nudge with his mind, and the dagger slowly began to rotate in midair. The steel blade reflected the cockpit’s light in every direction, causing an illuminating dance to ensue within the dim starship. It was chilling, it was enchanting...
Valdis Enide struggled to wrench himself from the spectacle, finally letting the weapon fall to the floor. A clang echoed inside the cockpit and inside the sith lord’s heart. He had never before allowed himself to become absorbed in such a trivial matter. He was Valdis Enide - Master of the Force, Prince of the Shadows, and Warrior of Chaos… the dagger was not a work of art, the dagger was Death’s paintbrush. There could be no room for distractions or questions in the mind of an killer. Valdis regained focus; there was a jedi to slay.
Moments later, the dark form of Valdis Enide emerged in the hanger. There was no wind, but that didn’t stop the sith’s trademark cape from billowing in the air. Stroking his rugged chin, Valdis smiled inwardly… it was time for the sith to rise. Confidently, Valdis strode out of the hanger, following the footprints of the Force. The trained assassin could have reached his destination without a sound, without a trace… but today, Valdis planned on making a statement. He let his boots beat like drums upon the floor, allowing his victim to feel the tremors, feel the fear. To accentuate the point, Valdis ignited his crimson saber.
So it was that the evil human came before the final door. Valdis narrowed his dark eyes, felt for his trusted dagger, and took a last breath. The storm had arrived, and the sith lord intended to let his sword rain down upon his foe. No dam would be able to withstand the coming flood of Valdis Enide. The door opened...

[Pontus]

Sirithe(Sirithe) vs. Pontus(Maxwell)
Pontus intro
The sun was barely peeking out above the endless forests of Pegca V as Maxwell Vairinius sat on a freshly chopped stump, meditating heavily. The Sith Lord sat there without moving, almost in a trance but still awake to his surroundings. He slowly opened his eyes and walked over to a small durasteel cage that held roughly fourteen captives of varying races.

The captives sat there in fear as Maxwell pulled the dark hood of his cloak down over his face. The shadow of the hood made it impossible to see anything above his mouth. His bright green eyes, however, could be seen as they began to glow gently with his rage.

Maxwell pushed his long black cape to his side and walked up to the door of the cage. The lock was specialized so it could only be opened by a user of the Force. However, this Force-user had to be on the dark side of the Force for the door to open. He had called out Sirithe two days ago and had since killed exactly four captives.

The gate clicked loudly and screeched as it slid open. Maxwell walked slowly up to the entrance, staring down each and every one of the captives. They cringed in fear at the immense anger pulsing throughout the Sith’s body. The anger was so powerful and passionate that it was nearly palpable in the moderate climate of the forest world.

Maxwell reached down and put his hand under his cloak. He pulled out a shiny cylinder and flicked a small switch to ignite a powerful silver lightsaber blade. The light from the saber lit up the Sith Lord’s face and his chiseled face and black hair became visible by the glowing light.

The captives cringed back but Maxwell lifted one up and pulled the young Twi’lek boy out of the cage. A woman who was obviously the boy’s mother cried out but Maxwell threw her into the bars of the cage with the Force and carried the boy out the door. He slammed the door behind him as it locked again with a click. The boy began to cry as he realized what was about to happen. He tried to brake himself free but he was too week from not eating in over a week.

Maxwell lifted up the boy using the Force and cut him in half with his silver lightsaber just below the rib cage. He took the two pieces of body and carried them with the Force to a clearing in the dense forests. He smeared the blood on the trees and on the ground and then disposed of what was left of the body. He chopped down a tree on the edge of the clearing with his lightsaber and gently lifted it off with the Force. He tossed the tree trunk into the center of the clearing and sat down on the scorched stump.

Maxwell went into a deep meditation and began his wait for the Jedi, Sirithe, to arrive. He felt a ripple in the force nearly four hours later and quickly jumped up into a tree. He heard Sirithe’s voice calling him out, and he jumped down from his perch, igniting his lightsaber on the way. Sirithe turned to face Maxwell and reached down for his two lightsabers.

“Let the battle begin...” Said Maxwell with all of the hatred and anger that he could muster thrown into the harshness of his raspy voice. And thus, the battle had begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1-3-1 is correct, Sirithe.

[Number_1_DM]

FYI: NewType's computer crashed. He might not be on for a while... sorry Blue.

[Snyper]

You want this to be a 1-3-1, or 1-4-1?


Valdis grabbed his dagger, he sprang into the opening of the door and threw the blade where the force told him that the Jedi was sitting. The dagger hit its target, or what looked to be a man sitting in the middle of the floor. The man fell over, a pile of books fell from under the cloak. All around came an innocent laugh.

Valdis know stood above the pile of books.

“So this it the great ‘Prince of Shadows’, I’m not sure if I should bow or laugh at the title.”

Snyper walked from behind one on the damaged bookcases, still smirking about his last remark. Valdis used the force and regained possession of his beloved dagger. They now stood seven feet apart at a stand off. Neither one moving, just staring into the others eyes.

“Can we get this over with, I’ve got places to go, Jedi to kill,” at saying this Valdis unleashed his light saber.

Snyper followed in suit, the room was now lit with the deadly blades. The green glow comforted the Jedi. Snyper thought back to the first time he unleashed it, he was a padawan under the direction of Rogue. He snapped out of the daydream when he saw Valdis running forward. Snyper rushed in as well. The sith raised his saber for a powerful blow, Snyper raised his blade but instead of blocking he did a rolling flip and avoided the blow all together.

The sith tripped forward, and fell to his face. Snyper laughed.

“Momentums a funny thing isn’t it” Snyper leaned against a bookcase as Valdis regained his vertical bases.

Valdis, enraged by the last remark charged again. Snyper didn’t even have time to reignite his sword. He ducked under the first swing and luckily flipped over the other man. His blade snapped out with a hissing noise as the bent backwards to block a blow that had been aimed for the back of his head. Now in a bridge position with one hand holding him up, he pushed off and kicked him into a nearby book case.

The dust kicked up. Snyper’s sense of vision disappeared. He was confused, but held his saber in front of him. The only thing he could see was the red rod shaped light that now advanced on him. The sith attacked with wild blows that one by one Snyper blocked. The dust was still up in the air but now he could see the body of the other man. He parried a blow, but didn’t see the foot that came after it.

Valdis know walked out of the cloud. Snyper quickly got up, but his vision was blurred. He now saw three blades be lifted up to be brought down upon him. He did the only thing you could do, force pushed it into a nearby wall. His vision returned to him. He reached behind him and grabbed his back up saber. Now the room was flooded with three different colors.

Valdis slowly got up to be faced with a green and blue saber held closely to his neck. Snyper stood over him. The room was filled with a whizzing sound. An ancient book struck the Jedi in the head. He tumbled to the floor.

Seconds later they both stood at seven feet away in another face off. Both a little fatigued but not willing to show it. This time Snyper rushed in…….

[Number_1_DM]

It'll be 1-3-1... I'll have my next part done by tommorrow.

[Sirithe]

Sirithe Vs. Pontus
Sirithe Battle Post 1
Sirithe heard and felt more than saw the Sith springing to attack. He reached for his light saber, pressing the ignition switch and hearing the familiar snap-hiss then constant hum. The Force gave him a warning of an attack coming at his left leg.

He spun around and snapped his light saber up to a mid-guard. He caught the Siths charge head on, and immediately realized that was a bad idea. The Sith hit with a powerful charge nearly battering Sirithe’s light saber away.

Sirithe pushed back as hard as he could, as he felt his clothes smolder and his chest and left shoulder blister under the intense heat of his light saber being slowly forced into his chest.

He winced, and nearly gagged when he smelled his burnt flesh and clothing. He had to fight to keep his stomach under control.

Sirithe knew right away this fight would be for his life. His thought pattern went from his normal battle to a life or death instinctive fight.

Knowing that he wouldn’t help himself by only pushing, Sirithe slightly bent his knees so he could drop quickly. After he did this he switched his light saber off and threw himself into the ground.

He hit so hard he was slightly dazed and saw stars winking in front of his arms. His plan worked though, the Sith was thrown off balance and plunged his light saber into a tree. The air was filled with the stenches of burnt cloth, skin, and wood.

Seeing that he was at a complete disadvantage Sirithe used the Force to extend his stride and sprinted into the forest. He winced as he ran into a bug and felt a slight bruise form at the point of impact. When he felt he was far enough he leapt.

He thought he felt his body trembling as he was in the air, it was that or he was more scared than he had been since Breed died.

Using the Force to amplify his leap Sirithe flew upward. He looked down at the top of several smaller trees, and landed near the top of a 16 meter tall tree. Scrambling down towards the middle of the tree, he perched himself on a branch and waited.

He heard the Sith come running into the clearing he had just been in and yelled out. “Care telling me your name?”

He said that as nonchalantly as he could, but inside his heart was hammering and he was trembling. He tried not to think it, but he couldn’t stop himself, “Maybe the Sith are right, maybe I should give myself to the Dark Side..”

He saw the Sith spin around, and his eyes narrowed, looking for Sirithe. “Maxwell” he grunted.

When Maxwell was facing the opposite direction, Sirithe took his chance and sprung out towards him. Igniting his light saber as he was in the air, he took a swing towards Maxwell’s head.

Maxwell ducked, but just barely. Sirithe’s nostrils were filled with the smell of burnt hair. He swung downward at Maxwell’s exposed shoulder. Maxwell lifted his light saber to block the strike.

The two sabers clashed in the air, filling the jungle around them with a brilliant silver flash, and a loud noise created by the two blades clashing together, many little animals went scattering away into the shadows.

Sirithe knew that he wouldn’t break through Maxwell’s defenses and gave up the attack. Dropping back into a defensive stance he studied Maxwell looking for a possible weakness.

When he failed to find a physical weakness he used the Force and probed for a mental weakness he could exploit. All the while he was dodging or blocking strikes rained at him from every direction, by Maxwell’s silver blade.

He felt an intense jab of pain in his head. Maxwell rejected his mind probe with intense force, and he felt as if a spike were jabbed into his head.

He was getting frustrated, and more by the second. He just could not land a hit on this guy, physically or mentally. He needed a plan, and couldn’t think of one, and all that did was help make him more frustrated.

Sirithe was beginning to get tired, both of being on the defensive, and fighting an enemy he couldn’t find a weakness on. Maxwell was strong in the Force and easily deflected Sirithe’s mind probe, and Sirithe could tell by the way he fought he had trained since his early years.


Sirithe gestured at a nearby tree and snapped off a branch. The jungle was filled with a resounding crack, and any animals that wandered back into that area went running off again.

Using the Force to propel the branches movement he sped it toward Maxwell. When it got two about a meter away, he gave it one final burst of speed, and let go, letting it follow its current course.

He felt his jaw drop as Maxwell redirected the branch at him, followed by all the fruits he had stopped with the Force. Sirithe sliced at it, but only succeeded in making two branches for him to dodge.

He marveled at his own stupidity, he really needed to learn to think faster, that wasn’t the first time his haste made things harder for him, but unless he did something fast it would be his last.

Switching off his light saber he tried getting a grab on the branches with the Force. He raised his right hand and pointed it at one of the branches, and managed to wrench control of it from Maxwell.

Now both Force users were being attacked by a branch. Sirithe held his near him while Maxwell charged the other toward him. Sirithe launched his into it and both seemed to explode.

The air was immediately filled with splinters and small sticks. Ducking away from it all Sirithe closed his eyes. When he opened them again Maxwell was standing exactly where he had been, only with his clothes torn, and his face bleeding from several small cuts. Sirithe imagined he looked much the same.

Never much one for the sight of blood, he tried looking away from it. Of course, that only made him look closer and he began to feel nauseous, he almost felt like he was being sucked into the blood of his enemy.

Nodding at Maxwell he said “Hell of a fight we’re having here, aren’t we?” Even as he said that, he knew that if he was to walk away from this alive, it would take the unexpected, and that scared him to the core of his being.

Well BEg, here we go :D

[Sekhmet]

~though the force watches the fights~

[snoogadie.]

Finally.

~~~
Oblivi IV was a cold, unforgiving planet. It consisted of ice, snow and nothing more. The only structures on the planet were a series of Temples that were built millennia ago by the ancient Force users. Inside one of these Temples, there was a monstrous room underground, a singular pool of water in the centre. Small wisps of steam were rising off of it, due to its constant warm temperature. Lining the walls, were stone pillars stretching to the roof, some six stories above. Carvings lined every visible surface. To the untrained eye, these could be considered any old gibberish carvings by Neanderthal races long ago. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Elaborately done, the carvings on the walls were in fact ancient runes, revealing great and powerful secrets to all who had the ability to read them. Not many could and those who had, were either dead, or remained in the building.

The pool of water began to bubble slightly, the amount of steam coming off it increasing, so that it glided gracefully across the floor. After a while, the pool reached boiling point and the steam had reached the walls, turning into condensation. Abruptly, the bubbling stopped and the steam disappeared. If someone walked into the room then, they would never have known that the pool had been boiling violently only seconds before. It was no ordinary hot spring on an ice planet. It was a Force Pool; a pool of water that was empowered by the force, giving extraordinary powers to anyone who went into it. The runes on the wall that were within sight of normal human eyes could only begin to explain the god-like power behind it. When a great disturbance in the force happened, the pools were rumoured to react accordingly. Nobody had ever documented such an event, nor did they deny it could happen; the pools were supernatural things that one was warned to stay away from.

The pool began to boil once more.


Even further underground; there was a maze of tunnels formed in the ice, over the centuries of beings living within them. Some were natural caused by constant wind that pummelled the ice, eroding it slowly. Man forcing their way through the ice with fire carved others. In one of the artificial tunnels a man sat cross-legged, eyes closed. The silence was almost unnerving. An icy cold wind whipped through the ice maze and into the long hallway in which the man was seated. It whipped his robes up and tore at his skin.

A deep rumble echoed throughout underground area. A small piece of ice chipped off of the ceiling, floated down and landed on the man’s rather untidy brown hair. He exhaled deeply, his warm breath turning into mist, slowly disappearing in the air.

Ralek Morano opened his eyes; his pupils shrinking fast, adjusting to the brightly lit area. The artificial lighting seemed to make his face look more battle damaged than it already was, bouncing off his prominent cheek and jawbones and highlighting his scars. He allowed himself a small smile. He knew what was happening on the surface. He had been expecting it for some time now, obvious signs emerging through the force. Meditating in this room only furthered his powers. He stood up abruptly, pivoted and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing.


The Force pool was bubbling violently, splashing on the floor slightly. It stopped in a millisecond, returning to its normal state as Ralek Morano entered the room. He strode up to the pool and removed his robes unceremoniously, discovering earlier that if one went in with clothes on, they had a tendency to disintegrate. He had done this hundreds of times before and it was now nothing short of tedious compared to when he first entered this very pool all those years ago. That was the turning point in his life. It now had meaning. He no longer served a stubborn council of so called Jedi “Masters”. He was his own person, doing what he wanted when he wanted. The force was his weapon to use as he pleased.

He slid into the pool, the warmth of it engulfing him. It almost stung him to be in it again. No matter how many times he used the Force pool, it always hurt. He had the damage to show for it, too. His body and face were covered in scars and burns from overuse. As he closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the force flow freely around him, the pool overflowed slightly, spilling into ten tiny little trenches surrounding it. Ralek opened his eyes. It was an amazing sight every time. The water rushed away from the pool in the trenches. As it reached the wall, it defied gravity and climbed vertically, filling each of the runes all six stories of them. Within a few seconds, the water flowed freely throughout the writing and began to glow a faint gold colour. After that, the pool itself started to glow, lighting up the whole room. The runes shone brighter and brighter until Ralek had to close his eyes. The part he never saw was the water returning. It made a jet stream from each of the main trenches and landed gracefully back in the pool without a splash or sound.

Ralek opened his eyes once more. He felt like a new man. He grinned malevolently and climbed out of the pool. He was instantly dried as he stepped out of the pool; the contents, although looking and feeling like water, were not. He replaced his robes, turned and took off at a jog. A series of small spikes on the soles of his shoes granted him the luxury of traction on the otherwise slippery ice.

***

On the surface of the snow encrusted planet, debris, blood and bodies stained the usually white plains. A battle was raging, the Jedi enlisting Mandalorian mercenaries to aid them in their fight against the Sith. The faction of Dark Jedi was severely disadvantaged given the superiority of their foes; there were not even half a dozen force wielders and a few thousand soldiers from sympathetic worlds to help their side. An invasion had been expected, but not on a scale such as this.

As far as the eye could see, Mandalorian ships, troops and heavy vehicles were annihilating everything. The Sith troops were well trained and equipped, but in war, quantity usually triumphed over quality. Both sides were suffering immense casualties. What few Sith ships remained were performing hit-and-run strafes on anything they could in an effort to do as much damage as possible whilst staying in one piece; it would be suicide to attack the enemy head on.

Anti Aircraft batteries placed strategically around the Sith compound hammered away at the sky, taking down aircraft one by one. The gun emplacements followed suit; keeping enemy troops at bay for the time being.

The battle wasn’t looking good for the Sith. It would take a miracle for them to turn the tide of the invasion.

***

A soft “ding” announced the elevator reaching the floor that housed a very small Command Centre. It was very basic, only having a few comm. units, a central map of the surrounding area and various other electronic devices. The doors to the lift opened with a hiss. Ralek Morano strode out and up to the central display map. The 3D images showed a few kilometres around their base. Blue units marked their allies, due to chips implanted in uniforms and the red units were unidentified or enemies. Ralek watched as one of the last blue ships circling the battlefield disappeared.

‘What is out status, Sergeant?’ he asked the man closest to him. The Sergeant took a small step forward, looking rather uncomfortable.

‘Uh … we are taking heavy losses, Milord’

‘I can see that’ Ralek spat back bitterly.

‘Yes sir; I believe that we should evacuate as soon as possible. Our small force is no match for this army that the Jedi have sent. According to my estimations, the enemy forces will be inside the compound within the hour. We can hold them off for a while, but we cannot win…’ he mopped his brow quickly and stood back at attention. Ralek pondered the thought.

‘Send all available forces to defend the temple. I want a tight perimeter. The code for the auxiliary armoury is 3965478; I want everyone in this room to take the supplies up to the foyer, which is the new command centre. Go now’

‘Sir!’ the man flashed a salute, a new bounce in his step as gathered the technicians and took them to the armoury. Ralek took one last glance at the map and went back to the elevator.

As the elevator reached the foyer, a grim sight faced Ralek; there was rubble everywhere, smoke lining the air and a few enemy troops running around. He ignited his saber in a flash and leapt out into the room, cutting down a soldier as he landed on the ground. A few blind blaster shots came at him, but he blocked them hearing a scream as they were returned to their sender. Footsteps gave away the position of the final soldier. Ralek turned around and threw him against the wall using the force, hearing several wet snaps on impact. Deactivating his saber, he walked out the main doors.

The noises of war hit him in the face. Screams, blasters, explosions, engines; they could all be heard. Ralek looked upon the battlefield. It appeared as if the Sith were retreating back to the temple. Soon enough they would be set up and could hopefully hold off the enemy for long enough to organise reinforcements.

‘If there is anyone out there willing to help us…’ Ralek muttered to himself.

Something clicked inside his head. It was a sense, the force trying to tell him something. He frowned, struggling to put his finger on whatever it was, but he couldn’t grasp it in time. He had felt this before, a long time ago… but where? It was coming from deep in the battlefield. As quickly as it had arrived, the feeling disappeared. Looking to the group of men next to him setting up a barricade for the standoff, he spied a speeder bike, with a clearly marked red cross on it, telling all who looked at it that it was a Medic’s bike. Fortunately, the Medic lay dead next to it. Ralek hopped on and sped off to the thick of the battle, in a hope to hold off the enemy forces.

The icy wind ripped at his already frozen skin, his cape billowing behind him as he rocketed at breakneck speeds past the frontline. Blaster fire missed by a hair and artillery explosions sent shrapnel his way, but he was able to avoid it, thanks to the force. Ralek took out both of his sabers and flipped off of the bike, sending it flying into whatever it would hit. He landed hard, rolled and jumped to the ready. On que, a small group of soldiers came running his way as one fell from the sky and ploughed into the snow. They crowded around Ralek and were firing their blasters at him, the constant fire preventing Ralek from ricocheting it back to them. A random shot came from nowhere, adding to the confusion, but Ralek blocked it and saw opportunity; he cut down all of the men within a few seconds.

As the final one fell, he glanced up from the dead body. A dark silhouette of a man in a cloak blocked the sun momentarily and then moved to let the sun stun Ralek once more. The feeling came back. He knew who it was.

‘How long has it been…’ Ralek said.

‘Not long enough’ the man in the cloak replied. There was a tense pause. ‘I sense you have been abusing the Force pool…’

‘Not abusing, my friend, utilizing’ Ralek used the term friend loosely. The man standing before him was Meathos Algredia, Jedi Master and former friend. ‘I never expected that you would lead this attack. I’m impressed, but surprised you used the Mandalorians. Tell me, how much did they sell for? I’m sure I could buy them back; you’ve made a foolish mistake hiring them’

‘You know why I’m here…’

“Perhaps the Old Grey Jedi has simply come to die?”

“Perhaps he has come to kill.” Meathos smiled with a shiver from the freezing air. He turned, and walked into the massive structure of ice and stone. Once inside, he turned and said: “Perhaps he has come to do what he should have done, old friend.”

A white blade screamed from the slender tube in his hand, and danced about him. It flooded the massive, stretching, empty pillared room with light. The hum of the weapon was amplified as it echoed everywhere in the ice. Small pools of water rippled in the sound waves. Another blade joined the dance, illuminating the Sith’s body.

“Ahh, perhaps he has.”

~~~

Yeah, borrowed your end bit just then. Couldn’t be stuffed rewriting the same thing.

[Knux]

LK, I'll have it up by the end of the week. Thursday night I had to study, then I got rocked by a stomach virus and I was basically feeling like crap the whole weekend, and now I'm studying for my last tests tomorrow. Once I'm on vacation and no school on my mind I'll be able to cook something up.

[Meathos]

I wrote it for a reason, lol.

I'll have something up as soon as I can, then.

And nice work.

[Pontus]

Sirithe(Sirithe) vs. Pontus(Maxwell)
Pontus Battle Post #1
The sun was slowly beginning to grow brighter as it began to pass from behind the wall of clouds and fog still left from the previous night on Pegca V. Maxwell Vairinius stood there with blood streaming down his face. He was staring at his Jedi opponent with all of the hatred he had gathered so far in the fight. There were splinters of wood ranging in size from a small needle to the size of his fingers sticking out of his face in all directions.

The wood pieces slowly began to wobble back and forth as Maxwell pulled each one out using the Force. He grimaced but did not stop until all of the bloody pieces of wood had been yanked from his face and discarded onto the forest floor.

Maxwell brought his singed cloak up to his face and wiped the blood off of his skin. There was a gash just below his temple, but it had stopped bleeding for the time being. He tossed his singed cloak off to the side and it gently landed onto a branch, dangling there like a limp body.

Maxwell turned and ignited his lightsaber again. He spat on the ground of the forest and took off running at his opponent, Sirithe. He jumped to the side to avoid a small boulder being hurtled towards him and slashed at Sirithe. The Jedi jumped up and into a tree branch to avoid the attack.

Sirithe sat in his perch like a hawk waiting to strike. He concentrated all of his power into lifting a fallen tree with the Force. The large hunk of wood was slowly raised into the air and aimed itself directly at the unsuspecting Sith. Maxwell heard a faint noise and span around to see something large and brown hit him smack in the chest. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, nearly 30 feet away.

Maxwell struggled to get up and called his lightsaber, which had rolled away, to his hand. He lunged at Sirithe and swung over his head. The attack was blocked but he quickly pulled off and swung down at the Jedi’s feet. Sirithe brought his blade down to block and then pushed up with all of his might to throw Maxwell off balance.

Maxwell took a step back to regain his footing but found himself being thrown into the ground by a powerful Force attack. He kicked his feet over and leapt up off of the ground, sending a cloud of dirt and dead leaves into the air. Sirithe went on the offensive and attacked Maxwell relentlessly. The Sith had to put every ounce of energy into knocking away the next attack while still trying to predict his opponent’s next move.

The two silver lightsabers clashed just between the two fighters. The blade farthest from Maxwell had a slight blue hue run through the bright silver aura. Maxwell tried to push harder in the saber lock to gain ground but Sirithe pulled out, causing the Sith to stumble forwards. Sirithe flipped his lightsaber to his other hand and stuck his right hand down towards Maxwell’s face. He pushed it forwards and Maxwell was redirected, flying through the air and colliding into a giant tree.

The sound of splintering wood filled the air of the forest as Maxwell collapsed down to the ground. The tree cracked again in what seemed to be a wail of agony and loose branches clambered down from where they had been knocked loose. Large amounts of leaves began falling down as the tree swayed back and forth, finally falling down like a plummeting comet. The tree struck the ground with a thump that shook the ground all around it.

Maxwell pushed his right hand forward in an attempt to stand himself up but his arm buckled in and he fell to the ground again. He coughed out blood and rolled over onto his back. His eyes were bloodshot with rage and his black hair was filled with dirt and broken leaves. He reached deep into the Force and mustered all of the energy he could gather.

A deep blue ball began to form around Maxwell’s hand as his rage grew. The ball of lightning crackled loudly as stray bolts were flung from it in all directions. Maxwell slowly crept up from the ground and projected his arm further out towards Sirithe. The bright light of the lighting reflected off of Maxwell’s eyes, making them seem to burn with anger.

The lightning was released and lightning bolts began flying from Maxwell’s fingertips. Sirithe pulled up his saber in an attempt to block or reflect the beams but they overpowered his defenses and sent him flying into the ground. Maxwell pushed out the last of his gathered electricity and watched as Sirithe’s body hit the ground silently. Sirithe groaned slightly and rolled over, staring directly at Maxwell. Maxwell grinned cruelly and readied his lightsaber for the next round of attacks.

[Number_1_DM]

Valdis Enide (Sith) Vs. Snyper (Jedi)
Valdis Enide Battle Post 1

What was happening to him? Valdis Enide had wavered in combat for the first time in his life. For years, the Sith had trained himself to be calculating, to be precise. However, in this ancient library, Valdis was losing himself. The Sith stared blankly over to where his rival stood, but he did not see the Jedi. Instead, he saw one thousand questions, all without answers. Valdis was not at war with Snyper… he was battling himself.
Valdis didn’t even register the Jedi’s charge, for his mind was worlds away. Instinct alone saved the Sith from the whirling green and blue blades. Hardly conscious that he held his own lightsaber, Valdis never thought to block Snyper’s strikes. Instead, the Sith lord vaulted backward, leaping over an antique table in the attempt to dodge the assault. Upon completing the risky maneuver, Valdis instantly sprung to the side, deftly rolling into a dark alley of shelves just as the two blades hummed in for the kill. Luckily for Valdis, Snyper’s sabers connected only with a stack of dusty books, not the Sith’s skull.
Papers fluttered everywhere in the wake of the Jedi’s attack, and Snyper momentarily boiled with anger. His combination should have left Valdis Enide in several neatly sliced pieces, but for some reason, the Sith still stood. However, his anger soon turned to glee when he recognized the favorable position he had put himself in. Snyper had trapped Valdis in aisle of books with a dead-end. There was a wall on one side, a Jedi on the other, and a Sith in between.
Valdis emerged from his deepening thoughts and cursed himself for the situation he had landed in. Not only was the Sith trapped, but he was severely outgunned as well. Snyper, sensing the moment of victory at hand, slowly waded in, carefully spinning his blades to create both an offensive and defensive sphere of green and blue. In turn, Valdis tightly gripped his red sword and crouched, waiting for his moment to strike. The Jedi crept closer and closer, knowing that the odds weighed heavily in his favor. Unfortunately for Snyper, Valdis created his own odds.

In a flash, Valdis Enide reached for his belt and spun around so violently that his cloak flared out and obscured the Jedi’s vision. The black ‘curtain’ prevented Snyper from keeping his eyes on the Sith’s hands, and so, the Jedi was forced to defend from an unseen attack. Fully expecting a dagger to come flying towards him when Valdis completed his spin, Snyper quickly crossed his sabers to block the incoming projectile. However, the dagger was never released. Instead, a crimson saber lead the attack as the ‘curtain’ whipped away. The “Warrior of Chaos” had returned.
Forced to fight in the confines of the narrow aisle, the battle quickly reached a furious pace. Valdis had to push Snyper back, and likewise, Snyper could not allow Valdis any room to breathe. However, the Jedi’s advantage was slipping before his very eyes. In the saber-lit corridor, the evil Sith had found his rhythm. Valdis began to execute his dizzying combinations, placing Snyper fully on his guard. After several lightning fast low strikes, Valdis aimed a high cut towards the Jedi’s exposed throat. Caught completely off balance, Snyper had no choice but to spring back to avoid the cunning attack. Valdis Enide was almost free of the hallway…

[LK6v3]

Did Knux dissappear or something? I'm still waiting to start my battle with him.

[Sekhmet]

He posted in Diablos resently so he is around... suggestion... PM him to remind him

[Snyper]

Battle Post 2
Snyper vs. Valdis

Snyper could have kicked himself. He had the upper hand and just let it slip away. He looked across at the sith who calmly wiped his brow. One feature stood out clearly, his eyes. They weren’t tortured with hate, but looked back at him with some since of respect.

Snyper’s mind flashed back to a time back on Coruscant, this was years ago. He had just been promoted to the rank of knight. Valdis was a young boy looking starry eyed in on his last bout with his master Xavior, the rogue Jedi.

“Its not to late you know,” these words left Valdis with a confused look on his face.

“Throw down that tainted blade, you can still be saved from an almost certain death. The Order can cleanse you, you can once again work to protect instead of destroy.”

Valdis’s eyes told the whole story. They went from confused to soft. Obviously he had given thought to the subject before. The sith remembering his title quickly snapped back to reality.

“Don’t play Jedi mind tricks with me,” Valdis charged unleashing devastating blows that were fueled by pure rage.

Snyper now held his blue saber in his right hand pointing to the ground creating and 90 degree angle between it and his forearm. The green blade was held tightly in his left hand. When a powerful strike came in the blue would absorb the blow while if there was an opening the green would spring to life and make an offensive counter attack.

Valdis becoming weary and fatigued by the strenuous activity began to slow slightly. He was the first to nice and hoped that Snyper hadn’t. But the Jedi was indeed very perceptive and as a sweep came in for his legs he jumped up and landed a kick to the sith’s forehead.

Valdis skidded across the marble floor. Snyper smirked, that is until the heard the whizzing of the dagger that had been cleverly thrown before the sith was kicked. The dark halls were filled with yelling.

Blood poured from the Jedi’s leg. The wound wasn’t as bad as he put it off to be, but he figured if Valdis thought he was horribly crippled he’d toy with him giving the Jedi chance to surprise him. Snyper directed the force to increase blood flow from the leg.

Valdis regained consciousness. Snyper was nowhere to be found, but blood droplets led him to a dead end were their seemed to be a huddled mass. A red light sprang to life and came down upon the man; no books. Another trick.

Snyper sprang from behind one of the ancient book cases and engaged the yet again fooled sith. After a series of lightning fast combat Snyper back flipped onto an old metal chain that once held up a grand chandelier. The force helped him keep his balance as his opposition jumped up as well.

“You know I’m telling the truth, come back to the light,” Snyper didn’t know whether he was trying to save Valdis, or make him mad.

The sith’s eyes flickered again. He shoved himself back to reality again and got angry at the remark. Just what Snyper wanted. Valdis drew his dark blade up….

Basic human instincts, a method of protection of self destruction? Basic characteristics of anger and being scared switches on one of two modes, fight or flee. When a human chooses fight while in a furious state they tend to lose focus on detail and their surroundings.

The crimson flew down like lightning and the blade hit something as Snyper moved. To Valdis’s surprise it wasn’t a blue or green object that connected with the saber. The move that Snyper made was a side flip on to the top of a bookcase. The chain snapped with a hiss and threw sparks into the air.

Valdis hit the ground, the clutter of his body echoed against the great stone walls. Everything went dark. What felt like seconds later Valdis opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, he thought to himself about the injuries he might have sustained. Hopefully just a concussion. His vision returned and he jumped to the top of the book case the Jedi resided on. He flinched expecting an attack, It didn’t come. Snyper was meditating, that made the sith wonder how long he was out…..

Psychology lesson for the day.

[Newtype06]

“Thank you, Admiral Blaine. That will be all.” Skyr Valatos leaned forward, and switched off the hologram of the saluting Admiral. Blaine’s forces had done exceptionally well in instigating yet another tribal conflict between the Mon Calamari and the Quarren. The ancient rivals needed only a few sparks to ignite a full scale war. Skyr leaned back in the command chair he had…acquired along with the office he was in. All it took was a few appropriately placed assassinations, several of which calling upon Skyr’s expertise, to fan the flames. Skyr’s mop up force was pathetically small for a planet the size of Mon Calamari. Three Star Destroyers had laid waste to the few survivors of the civil war. Once victors, now they were the victims. The proud Mon Calamari, emerging victorious yet again over their squid-faced neighbors, raised their victory cry to the skies, only then noticing the Star Destroyers hovering there. The slaughter was quick.

For a long time, the only sound in the room was the raspy breathing issued forth from Skyr’s breathing regulator. Skyr’s orange, waspish visage was covered not only by the necessary regulator, but also by dozens of hooked, grey tattoos. Skyr Valatos stood. The Kel Dorian Sith Lord had risen quickly through the ranks of the Sith. Indeed, the brilliant orator and tactician was on his way to becoming the public face of the new generation of Sith. With a turn of his black cloak, Skyr made his way to the door. With a faint hiss, the door slid open. Indeed, Skyr was well on his way to greatness. He knew it. He had foreseen it. Every maneuver he planned had been weighed and checked time and time again, and all the results were the same. Skyr was one of the greatest Sith of the era, and he would not be stopped.

Skyr sensed the disturbance before he heard the blaster fire. Somewhere off, possibly in the main hangar, was a firefight. Skyr did not quicken his pace. He did not have to rush to meet this new foe. It was possible that some Mon Calamari had rebelled, and set up resistance pockets. Skyr trusted that his troops would handle the situation accordingly. Nevertheless, Skyr made his way to the observation platform overlooking the inside of the hangar. Skyr’s ears picked up the faint hum of a lightsaber…

Skyr let the Nautolan play around with his troops for a while. The Jedi was skilled, indeed. Scores of hapless soldiers fell beneath his blade. The Kel Dor felt his sabers slide into his hands as the Jedi decapitated a corporal. The only remaining trooper primed a thermal detonator, and hurled it at the Jedi. The metal orb froze in mid air, and suddenly zoomed back at the soldier. Skyr summoned the Force to prevent the bone shards and entrails from reaching him. Skyr clenched his hands around his sabers, orange one in left hand and crimson in right, and leapt off the platform, calling on the force to cushion the twenty five foot fall.

The Nautolan whirled around, purple blade in hand. Skyr spoke first. “Ah. You must be Kurs Janta. I was expecting the Jedi to send someone a little more…prominent. Why not Arca Jeth? Or perhaps your vaunted Meathos? I must say, I’m disappointed. Nevertheless, you are here. Any last words?” The Jedi brought his saber to the ready, saying “Only that an abomination like you must be destroyed. Prepare yourself!” Skyr did, tossing his cloak aside, inert sabers still in his hands. The Jedi seemed somewhat confused. Stepping forward, he said “Draw your weapons, Sith!” Skyr laughed, crossing his arms over his black tunic. “The Sith of old had no use for lightsabers. And neither…do…I.” Skyr Valatos had spent most of his life perfecting the Trakata form of lightsaber combat, and now he would get the chance to use it. Skyr placed himself in the rapture of the Dark Side, reveling in the pure joy of the slaughter, and simply dodged the first strike.

[Meathos]

Sorry for the long wait, Snoog. I've been busy with school and Easter and such.

I'll have it up in the next couple of days.

[Knux]

Sorry about the wait, but here it is. I've been caught up with stuff and took a 3 day hiatus from GW, but I'm back now.
___________________________

Hood draped low over his face, Jedam traversed the streets of Mos Eisley. The Jedi seemed to attract as many stares as there were people on the street; his heavy, heat attracting cloak was an oddity among those used to the blaring suns of the planet. Inside of his cloak each handed rested easily on a lightsaber, though he didn't plan to use them here.

The mission he had recieved from the now diminished council was seemingly simple. The Jedi was to enter the city and obtain information regarding a ruin rumored to be located somewhere in the surrounding desert of the city. In these ruins was supposed to be a tome holding secrets of the Sith; secrets which were disposed of long ago. It was a simple 'enter, obtain, and get your ass out of there' missions, as once dubbed by a bounty hunter he had met in a cantina. Because of the nature of this tome, he wasn't to reveal himself as a Jedi.. at least not until he had what he needed. Until then, nobody was to see his lightsabers or get any hint of his affiliation with the Force.

The gathering of information was never too difficult, especially for a Jedi. Though many of the rogues on Tatooine were impervious to tricks of the Force, there were other ways of buying their words. Even for Jedam, a stranger and oddity at the moment, could find out what he needed. A dropped coin or light threat in the right direction could work wonders and, if lucky, could turn one rogue against another who'd entrusted him with his secrets. Before much time had passed Jedam had obtained the information and a sense of direction in which to follow. Apparently the ruins were not far out of the city, and in fact underground as not to be found by random wanderers. Hands on his still concealed lightsabers, Jedam headed off into Mos Eisley's winding alleyways.

The entrance to the sewers was not far from his starting point in the alleyways. Jedam sped through, wanting to get out of the sun and closer to his destination. He could feel the Force pulling him toward this place; it was a guide whose assistance was priceless. As the Jedi turned into another alleyway a door ahead of him burst open and a Rodian came sprawling out. When the drunk had gathered his bearings he began a slow walk - or was it a stumble - toward Jedam.

Eh, he thought. The hell's that weirdo doing in my alleyway? I'm... I'm gonna give him what he deserves! Yea, the others'll love me!

"Hey, weirdo, " the Rodian called, drawing his blaster. "If.. if you wanna pass here.. you.. you gotta pay.. weirdo"

Jedam noted an unsteady hold on the gun and the drunken walk to accompany it. Jedam answered the Rodian's request with a Force push which effectively slammed the man's head into a wall.

That's alright, Jedam thought. He won't remember.. and the fool will probably lie there for days before he realizes what happened.

Leaving the alleyway and the unconcious man behind him, Jedam continued to traverse the alleyways until he arrived at his destination. Upon lowering himself into the sewers a rancid smell entered his nostrils... but he knew he would have to endure it.

After traversing what seemend an endless amount of twists and turns, Jedam could finally feel the entrance to the ruins growing ever closer. The Force pushed him onwards... urging him to find this tome. Jedam knew the great importance of it; it could possibly give the council insight or something... anything at all that could give them a slight upper hand against the Sith. Beginning to feel the Force radiating out of the ruin entrance, the Jedi quickened his pace.

Now less than 100 feet from the entrance, Jedam stopped suddenly. The Force he felt emenating from the room was not from the tome.. but something else. The Jedi began to think and instantly knew what it was. The energy he was feeling was not from the Sith's tomes... but from a Sith.

His run slowing to a crawl, Jedam slowly made his way toward the entrance. Upon arrivaing, he cautiously entered. Before him lay a huge cavern, most likely the remnants of some ancient Sith temple. Pillars lined the circular outline of the cavern, their heights uneven due to the rocky uneven ground. Parts of walls and statues lay scattered all over the floor. His gaze shifted toward the deteriorating ceiling, an unwelcome sight. As his gaze shifted back downward, hhis heart began to beat wildly. There in front of him was a meditating figure, no doubt the one he had felt. Several feet away from him lay the tomes that the Jedi had come for.

Stepping forward, Jedam dropped his heavy cloak and drew his lightsabers. It didn't matter whether this one knew if he was a Jedi or not; it was the last thing he'd remember.

[Meathos]

Snoog, again, sorry for the delay. This week's been Hell for homrwork, and this weekend I was a drunk.

[snoogadie.]

Yeah, I was insanely drunk as well. Hours of fun, a big pub crawl ... and I ran into some guys who had a lot to say about the next-gen consoles. Very interesting when you're drunk.

But, yeah. Just get it up when you can [/innuendo]

[Number_1_DM]

I've been real busy lately. Expect my next post by the end of this weekend.

[LK6v3]

I hate work. I can barely get anything up here anymore. Anyway, here's my intro post.
________________________________________

LK6v3 (Janobi) vs. Knux (Jedam), Janobi intro post

Exiting his ship after his long journey acroos the galaxy, Janobi stopped to take in the sight around him. What he saw before him was a remote outpost on some backwater desert planet. Trying to conjure up the name of the planet, Janobi searched his mind for the answer. Ah! There it was. The planet he had been sent to by his master, Ralek Morano, was called Tatooine, and the outpost was called Mos Eisley. Normally, Janobi would not bother with such an insignificant spec in the galaxy, yet this place held a special meaning in his darkened and twisted heart.

This was the plane upon which he had slain many weak Jedi before, as they all were in his eyes. He had killed so many people here, both Jedi and non-Jedi, that the area had started to take on a darker image just from his presence. Crime had increased ten fold, and murder was on a rapid rise- so fast in fact that the inhabitants could not reproduce fast enough, and the population was actually decreasing. This brought a twisted smirk to the Sith's face as he walked towards his destination. In practically every alleyway that he passed, Janobi saw someone being wronged in one way or another, be it a savage beating, a mugging, or just being cheated. The dark presence he alone had brought to the outpost and even the planet itself pleased the Sith immensely, as well as his master.

Pulling himself away from his sense of self satisfaction, Janobi continued on his trek. Even though he had been to this planet dozens of times, this visit was special. His master had given him a special assignment to test his strength and loyalty to the Dark Side. There was an ancient Sith temple hidden deep in the desert. There were many artifacts contained within the temple's dark walls, most of which were Sith, but some were also of powerful Jedi origins. The Jedi artifacts had been confiscated from powerful Jedi masters in the past in the traditional Sith way, and in the wrong hands, they could cause tremendous devestation and suffering. This only made Janobi all the more anxious to get to the temple and recover the artifacts.

Yet there was also another reason why Janobi had been sent there. The war between the Jedi and Sith which had almost always only been fought between the two factions had erupted into a full scale war between the countless opposing forces in the galaxy. The numbers had been kept even throughout most of the war with the exception of the Sith outnumbering the Jedi. If Janobi could secure these items, it could potentially make the Sith unstoppable even by the Jedi themselves.

These artifacts and the war were also not the only reason why Janobi had been sent to the Sith temple. Janobi had had a vision a few months before these events started to unfold themselves. In the vision, Janobi had seen a high ranking and very influential Jedi headed into the temple to recover the artifacts. This could and would not be allowed to happen. If the Jedi got his hands on the artifacts, the Sith would be wiped from the face of the galaxy forever.

Remembering this vision, Janobi picked up his pace and sped off to the temple. Luckily, like the vision predicted, Janobi arrived hours before the Jedi and recovered every single Sith and Jedi artifact, some of which included Sith lightsabers which produced unusual blade colors, such as a black blade with red electrical energy bolts encircling it, and a baige and bronze colored saber.
Figuring he'd meditate for the remainder of the time he had to wait for the Jedi to show up for his own demise, Janobi sat on the floor in the middle of a huge, circular room. The dark Force energies emenating from the temple only increased the rate at which he strengthened himself and his powers.

After what seemed like days of waiting, Janobi sensed a light presence entering the temple. Breaking himself from his trance, Janobi turned to greet the Jedi who was foolish enough to come looking for him.

Janobi: Welcome, Jedi. I didn't think you'd actually be stupid enough to face me, yet most Jedi are of sub-standard intelligence. Facing me is the last mistake you'll ever make!

[Sirithe]

Sh!t, sorry BEg, I had a crazy weekend ending with a stint in Galaxies, if school sucks today I'll start writing.

[Meathos]

Alright, I have it written, just need to look over it and such. It'll be up either tonight or tomorrow, Snoog.

[Meathos]

[b]Meathos vs. Snoogadie.[b]
Meathos - Attack Post #1

“Ahh, perhaps he has.”

The voice echoed in his head, taunting his memory, embracing his emotion, feeding the pit of hunger that was hate. It groaned within himself, begging and demanding that he kill the evil being right away. Put an end to his wretched existence. Then, another entity within Meathos. Pity. He had turned and left his friend in the great halls, wishing he had never knew the Ralek Morano. Wishing he never came to the frozen, dark, evil ball of ice called Oblivi Four… Now, he felt pity for his old friend, who had scarred himself beyond reparation in his lust for power. That lust, the need, the utter, basic thirst for power, strength, superiority, it was within Meathos now, more than it ever was.

He looked at the dark shell of a man in front of him, and saw only raw, electric power. No soul, no mind. Ralek had become blind and deaf to himself. He knew only power, and only the wish to kill whatever darted to stand in his way. Alregdia had seen it before, countless times. Countless times, they all fell to his blinding weapon… So, why was he hesitating? Ralek was nothing like he once was… But, neither was Meathos.

A synthesized roar jerked Meathos into higher alertness. He hadn’t realised he had begun his attack. Coming down from his right, Meathos took a quick swing at Morano, whose twin sabers simply blocked and threw to the floor. Meathos picked his attack up, never losing grip of his physical weapon. He made a quick jab, was parried. In a subtle movement, Alregdia danced his weapon around his wrist, and assumed defensive posture.

“Poor bastard.” Meathos muttered. Ralek smirked, as if pleased, and bowed his head slightly. “How could he become so damn…”

“So damn what?” Morano’s voice penetrated Meathos’ soul. “Corrupt? Corrupt as I may be, I am no hypocrite.” Ralek slashed at Meathos for effect.

Alregdia placed his lightsaber’s hilt in the air, keeping it afloat with the Force, as he removed his black robes, revealing the typical baggy Jedi under-robes, save a few oddities: He had a light cuirass of Mandalorian training armour, consisting of two large plates, and one minor plate in the middle, all of black colour. The upper plate was shaped like, and protected the pectorals, the bottom plate the abdominal. Hanging from the black belt that had the Bounty Hunter’s Guild insignia engraved in it’s buckle, was a piece of ornate cloth from a distant planet. It had wispy lines and layers creating a static but beautiful design. It hung in front, between his legs. It’s white and dark grey colour scheme contrasted against the otherwise black clothing, save the shirt under the armour piece which was grey, that was worn.

Meathos rolled his head about, cracking his neck several times. His grey eyes flashed when he opened them, as he did not know they were closed. His grey hair fluttered in the light breeze that was coming off the battlefield and it’s regimental pounding. He plucked his lightsaber from it’s perch, and unleashed his blade once again.

Ralek flew at Alregdia, slashing two quick times before landing in front of the literally grey Jedi. Meathos let his blade flirt with Ralek’s, touching them here and there, jabbing quickly, embracing for a few seconds before retreating once again. Each time the blades touched, bright flashes erupted, sending crackling echoes about the Force sensitive room. Whenever the blades kissed, the room seemed to twist and scream in delightful protest with the sabers.

Meathos found himself an opening. Ralek had his left saber pinned by Meathos, and he raised his right to strike. Alregdia grabbed Morano’s right wrist with his left hand, and let his weight off of the Sith’s pinned blade. Just as he wanted him to, Ralek commenced a strike with his left weapon. Meathos turned to his right as this happened, letting his weapon drop and dodging the upward swing, throwing Morano’s right saber into his left. As he came off the rotation, and as the Sith’s weapons clashed, Meathos planted a boot into Morano’s chest.

Ralek lay on the frozen ground, spread-eagle. Meathos walked over to the evil man, opening his hand and calling for his weapon. It obeyed, and climbed into his hand where it was immediately ignited and thrown down upon Morano. The Sith pulled his twin weapons together and blocked the strike, as expected. He also brought his knees to his chest and booted Meathos in the stomach. That had not been expected. Meathos flew back a significant distance, partly aided by his own will with the Force to help him with a landing. He slid about three inches as his boots hit the temple floor.

The two men stared at one another, their weapons humming in the ancient temple. Meathos raised his saber beside his head with one hand. Ralek dropped his shoulders and glared.

“Alregdia, why would you come back here, damn it? You knew I was here, you f*cking knew it.”

Meathos said nothing, but he knew his answer. Evil threats deserve no explanations, especially from one such as Alregdia. He was the Liberator of Worlds, Bringer of Light, a Thunder God. Meathos didn’t have to tell this Sith a word. He was too good.

Instead of replying, Meathos raised a hand, calling upon the Force to grab Ralek, and crush his throat… The Force grabbed the evil man, but refused to crush a thing. Ralek twisted slightly, but eventually regained control and set himself down. He then lunged at the Jedi, twin sabers dancing in the air, tearing the dance floor. Meathos dropped to a knee and hacked above him, making contact with something.

Ralek hit the icy, slick floor with a roll, with his back to the Jedi. He looked back, as did Meathos, and their eyes met. They were spewing hatred towards each other, now. Meathos stood, and turned to face Ralek. The Sith stood, and turned, revealing a slight burn across the inside of his right thigh.

“Ralek, end this now. Give me your weapons, and I will take you back to Coruscant. We can settle all of this ther-”

“Coruscant will burn.”

Meathos threw a hand up at the incoming Sith, pushing him back with the Force. But, as he did so, he felt an immense force tear him off his feet, and slam him into a wall. With a crunch, Meathos slid down the ancient stone, full of delicate engravings, and touched the floor. He stood as quickly as he could: Ralek was once again striking.

The two sparred: blow after blow was delivered and parried. Meathos felt rather calm. His left knee that always shook before and during a fight had stopped it’s spasms, his stomach was once again feeling as if it were effected by gravity. He watched himself fight, letting the Force guide him. His eyes fell upon the twisted, scarred face of Ralek Morano as he tried to break through the Jedi’s unconscious defence.

The sounds outside the temple had quieted somewhat. No more screams were heard, no small arms fire. Just the beating of the artillery batteries, like great drums, was heard. A steady beat, slow, yet quick-paced. Regimental drumming played for the victors of the battle.

‘Rather early for a win.’ Meathos thought. ‘Yet, all too damn late.’

The two sides of the coin continued to flash in their brilliant contest for superiority. The darkness attacked the light, the light repelled the darkness. Endless waltz. Meathos hacked one of Ralek’s sabers away, throwing him off guard and planting a high kick to his face. When he followed through with his attack, he was only parried, pushed past the Sith, and elbowed in the back. Ralek went to cut open the downed Jedi, but he was parried. Perpetual.

Alregdia scurried away from the Morano. He knew he had landed a hit on his leg, he just needed time for him to feel it. Once he felt it, he’d slow, and Meathos would be able to exploit it… But, he would have to wait. No Thunder God, no Liberator would ever display his power arrogantly when the time is not at hand. But, if he waited too long, he may never display the power he had. He may be killed, or even worse: Ralek may die early. That would not do. Meathos needed to decide, but he couldn’t.

His mind fought itself, draining his concentration. Meathos was fighting two battles now, on two very different fronts. He jumped at Ralek, swinging hard to his right. Blocked. He slashed down, up, left, right, jabbed, pulled, kicked, dodged, all to no avail. Ralek moved just as quickly, just as elegantly, as he did. They were indeed two very different sides of the same coin - Too bad Meathos had two coins to play with.

“I see you’ve learned some things.” Ralek chuckled and twirled his weapons about.

Meathos grunted in acknowledgement, spinning his blade in his left hand as if it were a wheel.

The temple danced in the moving lights. It breathed as it was brought out of it’s sleep by the two combatants’ use of the Force. Still, the artillery pounds, drums on and on, and on, and on. The Temple creaks and drips, the Force Pools rippling from tiny droplets falling hundreds of feet. And still, the drummers’ beat goes on.







Sorry for the wait. I've been busy.

[Newtype06]

Alright, I'm getting really tired of this. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this...

Blue, I'm calling you out. I'm giving you a week to come up with at least something resembling an excuse for not posting anything in at least a month. If you seriously cannot find the time to post something, then forfeit, cuz you are wasting my time.

I'm glad to see that some battles have gotten underway, and it's good to see the leadership here doing their jobs and posting good stuff. As for me, I eagerly await something from blue, even if it's merely a sign of life...

[LK6v3]

Come to think of it, I've never actually seen him RP anything other than when he trained me in the DOR when it still existed. By the way NT, I'm thinking of making a Matrix based clan. E-mail or PM me if you'd like to help me out with it. Anyone else is welcome to help as well, just e-mail or PM me.

Speaking of no signs of life, what happened to Knux?

[Sekhmet]

then it is a default win for the Sith... :devil:

[LK6v3]

Well I still want to finish my fight with Knux so I can beat the sh!t out of him (figuratively of course).

[Mr. Blue!]

Sorry about that, I'll try and get something up. I kinda forgot... I have one in the works. I'll try and have it up this weekend.

[Meathos]

Watch the harsh language, guys. We're all friends here. All of us. Hugs for all? :)

Blue, get your sh!t up or I'll have to get all whiney and stuff. That wouldn't be cool. Almost as uncool as it would be if I took a really, really long time to post in a war. :)

[Knux]

Don't worry LK, I'm still here. I'll get it posted up soon, no point to rush here.

[Sekhmet]

I pmed blue to remind him... though I could have just let NT win for the SITH

[Newtype06]

yeah, instead you make me wait to win........:owned:

[Sekhmet]

yeah, instead you make me wait to win........:owned:
yes, :tease2: more fun that way... so if he doesn't get it up (no pun inteaded) by Monday then you can say that you win.

[Sirithe]

so if he doesn't get it up (no pun inteaded) by Monday then you can say that you win.
I missed the part where time limits were made, or else the JO is sunk already.

[Sekhmet]

NT, already gave him a time so.. a time was set... :hug: Sirithe

[Meathos]

He can give all the times he wants, but they have to be agreed upon on both parts. i.e. 2 weeks per post, for all posts.

Don't start pulling these default victories again. You guys wanted the war, so you're finishing it. Don't post and then run off saying you won by default.


I say no default wins, unless there is an extreme case. It makes things more worth while. People want to fight, that's why they go into these wars.

[Newtype06]

Actually, I don't remember giving Blue any serious deadline. I said he had a week to respond. He responded. All bets are off.

And for the record, Meathos, I haven't run from anything. On the contrary, like yourself I am one of the few people here.

Blue can take his dandy time. As long as he updates in this thread occasionally, I have no problem. But going a month without posting anything? That's unacceptable

[Sirithe]

:hug: Salka
And it's finally up.
Sirithe moaned and rolled over slightly. He kept his eyes closed against the harsh light of the jungle sun. His head felt like he had gone on a Corellian ale drinking binge the previous night. He wished that was all that had happened.

He opened his eyes and gazed in anger at the bleeding Sith in front of him. He looked down at himself and saw bruises and blood. His robe was scorched from the barrage of lightning that had just struck him and was smoking slightly at the sleeves.

He ignited his light saber and was relieved to see that the lightning hadn’t overwhelmed the sensitive circuits inside of it. In a fight like this the last thing he needed was to lose his light saber and have to use the one he had taken from Breed when he died, although if things kept going as badly as they were he would need to.

He rose to his knee and gritted his teeth against the pain as the splinters in it drove deeper into his skin. He used the pain to give him a clearer focus and glared daggers at the Maxwell standing calmly a meter away from him.

He rose his light saber and held it angled at Maxwell’s head. Maxwell began approaching him and Sirithe began an attack.

It was only a feint, making Maxwell back a step and giving Sirithe time to set himself into a better defensive stance. He took his saber in two hands and held the blade at an angle in front of and across his chest.

The Force warned him of danger coming towards his left side so he spun and lowered himself to the ground.

Just in time, the sapling ripped from the ground went soaring harmlessly over his head.

Sirithe had finally had enough, it was time to go all out on this guy and do something he had never done, not even considered it. Hoping it wouldn’t insult his friends memory he took it off his belt and held it in his left hand. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time.

He pressed the ignition button and the orange blade that he hadn’t seen for years yet was still familiar sprung to life. Along with that did all the memories of pain he felt when Breed died.


He shook his head slightly to dispel the memories, now was not the time to be reminiscing, he could do that if he lived. He raised the light sabers and took a step towards the Sith.

He lifted his light saber high and held Breeds at an angle in front of his chest. He swung down with his light saber with all the power he could muster. He started thinking the saber might hit when it seemed a brick wall stopped it.

He waited for the clash of energy light flash and sound but it never came. Then he felt the hand on his wrist. Maxwell actually caught his arm. He winced as it started tightening and tried to wrench his wrist out to no avail. He was starting to fear his wrist would be broken.

It was only then he remembered he had Breeds light saber in his other hand. He stabbed out at Maxwell’s foot, hard.

Maxwell jumped back and let go, but not in time. Sirithe smelled burning flesh and leather. He pierced the tip of the shoe and the big toe.

As Maxwell nursed his injured foot, Sirithe rotated his wrist, making sure he still had full mobility over it, he had the feeling this fight was far from over.

That feeling was right even having a toe stabbed didn‘t stop this guy. He fell into a defensive stance with his saber held in front and angled to his left side, Breed’s saber behind that angled to his right side.

He waited for an attack, that began to seem like it would never come. Finally it did, and Sirithe almost missed it and would have died.

He shoved the two sabers in the air above his head and made a “X“ Form. The enemy saber was held fast between his and his body stayed together, for now at least.

He forced his way into a saber lock, just barely, his two sabers giving him the power to hold Maxwell‘s one in check. He pushed with all his might but couldn‘t make them move an inch past this point.

Sirithe was beginning to feel hopeless. He knew this would take some quick thinking but he couldn‘t think of anything to do.

Then it hit him, all this time he had been focusing on Jedi things to fight, the Force and his Lightsaber, maybe he had to use some normal person techniques too.

He lashed out with his left foot, catching Maxwell in the stomach, he heard a grunt and the saber lock was broken. Rather than go right back with his saber Sirithe kicked out again.

He was lucky not to lose his foot when Maxwell jumped back and sliced at his foot. He settled back into his defensive stance, at least now he could fight on a fair ground.

[Mr. Blue!]

I'm gonna try and finish it tomorrow. Sorry for the problems. It won't be up tonight. I just umpired 5 games, 3 of which were behind home plate, so I'm pretty wiped out.

Mr. Blue vs. Newtype06: Mr. Blue Attack Post

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The violet blade flew over the Kel Dorian. Skyr bent back as he played the deadly limbo. After the blade passed over him he immediately went on offense, unleashing a deadly whirl of attacks against the Nautolan. Kurs's purple blade parried away every attack, his connection with the Force become stronger with every block.
Kurs left himself to Force, allowing it to flow through him. He had spent many hours meditating before, waiting for moments like these. With the Force his mediocre dueling skills improved phenomenally. He had mastered the art of Form III, a very defensive way of dueling taught through laser deflection training, and was the very same that the famous Obi-Wan Kenobi had used so many years ago.
Kurs and Skyr moved almost like a Mon Calamari opera. their moves seemed choreographed, Kurs bringing his sabre to deflect blows just nano-seconds before the Sith's swords were there.
Kurs brought Skyr's blades to a halt, bringing both up to a hold above there heads. Skyr released the lock and jumped back from the Jedi's counter attack.
"You are better than I expected Jedi," said the Kel Dorian. "It will be an honor killing you."
"I cannot let you have that honor, Lord Valatos. Your evil will not prevail."
"Evil? Why should this be evil? How long have the Mon Calamari oppressed the Quarren? There is evil and good on both sides. You do not know the real definition of evil. I am here to protect the Quarren. Just because I do not follow your narrow-minded ways does not mean that all I want is destruction."
"You hide a forked tongue behind that mask."
"Master Jedi, do not flatter me. I will see your destruction this day, mark my words."
Skyr charged at his opponent, attempting to decapitate the Jedi. Kurs rolled from the attack and slashed at Skyr's back. The Kel Dorian brought his orange sabre behind him, blocking the slash, and spun around to remove Kurs of his upper body. Kurs blocked the attack and brought his sabre to meet the orange blade coming towards his head. Kurs jumped back as Skyr slashed at Kurs's abdomen, dodging the attack. Kurs then jabbed at Skyr who knocked the stab away. He then slashed at the Nautolan's head, which moved downwards as Kurs ducked. Kurs then flipped back several feet.
"Let's even the playing field," he said. "You have two sabres, I will have home turf."
Kurs's hand shot toward Skyr, who stood untouched.
"Your Force powers are weak. You cannot even summon up enough strength to move me."
"You should be more observant, my lord."
The Kel Dorin turned to see the shattering of an aquatic window and the seeping of water into the room. Before he could think he was enveloped in the murky water, his lightsabres sizzling in the water as they deactivated. Immediately his mask adjusted and hydrogen filled his air sacs once again.
Nautolans were an aquatic species, their entire civilization underwater. Using this advantage, the Nautolan attempted to hide in the water, hoping his dark blue tunic would throw off the Sith. This was to no avail, due to the Kel Dorin vision spectrum being different than most creatures, making it easier for it to distinguish colors, and with the Force as his tool, he was twice as dangerous.
The Sith sabres shot forth as he deflect an incoming attack from Kurs, who shot towards him with assistance from the Force. Skyr blocked the violet blade and kicked off of Kurs, sending the Sith far from the deadly Nautolan, and Kurs straight into a wall. Skyr deactivated both of his sabres again, and waited for Kurs.
A jet of water shot into his chest like a dull knife. Skyr cringed in pain as water pressure began enveloping him. Kurs was crushing him in water with the Force. Suddenly the pressure released, and he heard a voice.
I cannot kill you, said Kurs telepathically. I cannot use the Force for offense, as a tool. That is your way.
Foolish Jedi, responded Skyr, you have had your opportunity, and you failed even when success was within your grasp. Now you will pay for that with your life.
Skyr's blades reemerged and he shot towards Kurs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's about a half hour's work spread over the past month. Sorry about the wait.

[Number_1_DM]

Good thing nobody's noticed I haven't posted anything in a month either... whoops.

I all honesty, this has been one of the busiest times of my life - with my senior year ending and all. Have faith, school will be done soon, and I will post again soon.

[Sithlord001]

Hi everyone I am new to this site.

[Sekhmet]

not a place to post... go into Clubs and clans

[LK6v3]

Wrong place to post that, the moderators are extremely strict on that kind of thing. Try the welcome section.

[Newtype06]

I'm working on something. I just wanted to point out that I'm still alive. Gimme a day or two to finish this up

Edit: Time to get this place moving again


Skyr was enraged in a way unlike anything he had ever experienced. This Jedi thought he was toying with him. Thought being the key word. He thought the water would slow Skyr. It didn’t. He thought Skyr needed his sabers to defeat him. He didn’t. He thought Skyr would hesitate. Skyr wouldn’t. The Kel Dorian, slick from his brief excursion under water, lunged at the Nautolan who had tried so foolishly to defeat him. Lightsabers deactivated, Skyr charged.

The Trakata lightsaber form is one of the most unusual and difficult forms to master. Indeed, the Jedi didn’t even include it in their strict hierarchy of the Seven Forms. It required a unique mastery of the Force that few possessed. Relying on the Force alone, a Trakata master only dodges attacks, never parries. To reveal one’s weapon before the killing blow was considered a heresy. Many inexperienced practitioners of the Trakata Form ended up dead. However, when employed correctly, the Trakata form was enthralling for the practitioner, and humiliating for the pathetic attacker.

Blades still deactivated, Skyr ran full on towards the Nautolan. The Jedi, anticipating a quick strike, ducked low and thrusted. The Kel Dorian Sith Lord jumped high over the thrust, twisting himself in midair, bringing himself down behind the Jedi. A quick flick of his wrist and an aptly timed Force push sent the tentacled Jedi sliding across the ground. Laughing, Skyr gave the Jedi time to get up and collect himself.

Skyr chuckled, and began pacing around his foe. “Now, Jedi, I will show you the true power of the Force. You Jedi maintain that the Force is your ally. Yet you hide behind your lightsabers. I have truly mastered the intricacies of the Force. It is the true weapon. Try as you may, you can not conquer it.” Kurs Janta stepped forward quickly, executing a three strike combo at Skyr. The first strike, a horizontal slash to his face, just couldn’t find its target. Skyr leaned backwards, twisting his body to the side and evading the next strike, a downward hack. Calling on the Force to aid his insight, the Sith jumped backwards, flipping out of the way of yet another spinning strike to his knees.

Skyr was aggravating the Jedi. He could feel it. Each missed strike brought more frustration to his opponent. That was exactly what Skyr had anticipated, and exactly why he chose the Trakata Form against these Jedi. Their “self control” was their weakness. They had not mastered true control. They could not let rage fill them, not let it fuel their bodies, and maintain control. Skyr could.

Kurs Janta came at Skyr again. Form III, while magnificent against blaster bolts and lightsabers, had really no defense against Skyr’s Force fueled assaults. The slightest movement registered in the Force, whether it be a subtle twitch in the Jedi’s hands, or a coiling of muscles in the legs. Skyr saw all. The Sith ducked underneath one slash, throwing his palms out in front of him. The Nautolan was lifted into the air by Skyr’s powerful Force Push, and skidded to a halt meters away.

“Come now, Jedi.” Skyr said. “I really am eager to try out the fullness of my skills. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had a challenge, and I must say that you are well on your way to becoming one.” The Sith took a few moments to move some of the debris caused by Kurs’ watery attack, and then turned back to the Jedi. He considered frying the Nautolan right then, but decided against it. He wanted to get the full pleasure out of killing this Jedi, and he would spend every minute of this duel seeing to it that Kurs Janta forever rued the day he challenged Skyr Valatos.

[Pontus]

Pontus vs. Sirithe
Attack Post 2:

“I see you are using Breed’s lightsaber. Maybe it is a sign that you are just as weak as the wimp you had once called a friend.”

Maxwell swept his lightsaber parallel to the ground but it was blocked by both of Sirithe’s sabers. He pushed the two blades up and stabbed at the Jedi’s chest. Sirithe gracefully slipped to the right, sending Maxwell staggering forwards with the momentum of his attack.

“He squealed like a little girl when the poisonous stinger pierced his chest. Too bad I cannot appoint you such a humiliating death... You are more powerful then I had reckoned.”

This time, Sirithe spun and chopped at Maxwell’s head. The Sith ducked and kicked Sirithe’s right knee. Maxwell attempted to finish his opponent off but his saber was blocked again. He brought up his right leg and kneed Sirithe in the face, sending him falling to the ground.

“That’s right... I called you here to finish the job. I did not enjoy only destroying three out of my four targets. Do you really think that planet was occupied by ordinary Killiks? I had bred that colony from scratch, teaching them to kill anything that entered their new domain.”

Maxwell could feel Sirithe’s rage growing. He lunged forwards, but when Sirithe lifted both blades to block, he rolled down and under the attack. Spinning around and swinging low to the ground at Sirithe’s feet.

The attack was blocked and Sirithe sent an orange blade coming down on Maxwell’s head. The Sith rolled over to the left just as the blade passed harmlessly into the forest floor. Maxwell jumped up and tried to swing his saber again but Sirithe kicked his legs, causing him to fall to the ground again. Sirithe planted his heel in the dirt and sent a sharp kick into Maxwell’s ribs, sending him into the dirt. He coughed harshly, the raspy noise clearing the blood from his lungs.

As blood began to roll down the grooves in his face below his mouth, Maxwell spoke again, “I was hiding in the shadows, watching your every move. I planted the trail for you to find the home of the Killiks and then sat and watched as your friend and masters were slaughtered. I had intended for you to be killed as well but it seemed that the Killiks were more occupied with their feeding. Stupid reptilian beasts...”

“That can’t be true! I would have felt you in the force... The masters would have felt you in the Force!”

“Dear, dear Sirithe. Do you honestly believe that I cannot conceal my presence better than that? Besides, Breed and the masters were pathetic excuses for Jedi. They gave those who use the Force a bad name. You, however, are showing me that you have more than enough capability to join the Sith.”

“I’ll never join you!”

“Then you choose to die.”

Maxwell spat out the blood in his mouth and jumped to his feet. He charged forwards and swung over his head. He sent his blade just above his opponent’s neck before it was blocked by a silver beam. He jumped up to avoid the orange blade and flipped forwards, slashing at Sirithe in mid-air. His attack was blocked, and Sirithe quickly flicked up his other saber, scorching Maxwell’s chest.

The Sith landed on one knee, spinning around to face the Jedi. There was a long cut through his black battle outfit. He ripped off the top of his black uniform and looked down at the burnt scar angled across his chest. The skin was a charcoal black color running lengthwise across his skin. A trail of bright red blood was dripping steadily from the tip of the wound.

Maxwell slowly rose to his feet but Sirithe quickly threw both sabers at Maxwell. The Sith knocked the first into the air with his saber but grabbed the second one with his hand and threw it back towards Sirithe. The first blade began to fall and he jumped up and grabbed it. Maxwell spun around and sent it flying at a perfect angle just behind the wildly spinning orange blade.

[Mr. Blue!]

Umm, hey NewType, when did they leave the water?

[Newtype06]

probably when common lightsabers worked underwater

seriously, I could not tell at all that my character was underwater the whole time. Your description of it wasn't sufficient enough. You have Skyr using his lightsabers, which is bad enough, already after the water had come in. The way I saw it, the water rushed in and then came out.

Unless you put some effort into describing how anyone's lightsabers work underwater, I'm continiuing this the way I wrote it.

[Sekhmet]

they worked in Star Wars II underwater

[Newtype06]

Where? It worked in the rain on kamino, but I can't remember anywhere else. I even remember Obi not being able to use his saber against a stap droid in TPM cuz it wouldn't work.

i was under the impression, from books and games I've read and played, that lightsabers did not work under water, with the sole exception being Kit Fisto in the Clone wars toons.

[Knux]

Knux vs LK, Attack Post 1
_____________________


"Facing me is the last mistake you'll ever make!"

Indeed, the Jedi had made a mistake in his coming to this place. The mistake lay not in the objective, but in his lack of preparation for such an occurence. Jedam had barely thought of the actual mission over the course of his journey to the desert planet. Many other thoughts had come to the front of his mind at the thought of Tatooine: emotions stemming from the past he had never known.

In the eyes of any warrior, Jedam's last movement had been a mistake as well. The Jedi had made the rash action of throwing his cloak to the ground and drawing his lightsabers immediately. Though in most fights the rational man would attempt to talk his way out without having to resort to killing, he realized there was no such option with a Sith. Their main intention was always to kill... to cause as much pain and suffering as possible with no regard to any but themselves.

Rash actions or not, Jedam would have to fight in order to leave this damned place alive.

Jedam stood his ground as his eyes bore into the Sith's. He began to circle the man before him, slightly relinquishing the grip on his weapons.

"I find it surprising for a Sith to be meditating in such a place as this, " Jedam said, his st