Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A Charcoal Krayt Dragon

Coruscant.

The Sith Apprentice walked through the halls of the Sith Temple on Coruscant. There were few things for him to do whilst he waited for the next engagement with the Jedi Order. Firstly, the majority of his time was taken up in reading on the past. Past wars, one that piqued his interest was the Clone Wars and others from a long time ago, a forgotten time. They drew his interest because of the ships they employed in those engagements, he studied the ships as best as he could in whatever free time he could find.

When he wasn't reading, he was practicing forms that he already knew. Those forms being Makashi, Soresu, and Shii-Cho. He barely practiced at Shii-Cho, but instead adapted the simple moves into his own style of Makashi. Although while he trained with Soresu, he knew that he was missing something... That he required more of the form.

Such as attacking.

There was a need for counter-attacks, but Form III was not the form to practice if that was the case. From what knowledge he had gathered, Form V, was the one he was searching for. And for that, he needed teacher.

Which is why he walked into a large training room with multiple duels, lessons and other things going on. Hopefully, he'd be able to find the one that he needed.

[member="Azrael Dugarde"]
 
[member="Malphas"]

Standing on one of the side training areas, Azrael stood holding what had formerly been a Jedi Katana in his hands. He'd taken it from the weapon racks, intending to simply warm-up with it.

Leaving the training droid deactivated off the mats, Azrael stood, his lean, muscled yet toned torso bared, the blade held with both hands, weapon outstretched before him, almost parallel to the ground. His eyes were closed, breathing steady, taking traditional meditation-style breaths. In for five counts, held for two counts, out for five counts. His mind was focused on everything yet nothing, the smell of rubber, the saltiness of sweat, the smell of his own body filled his nose, yet he had suppressed hearing the sounds of anything external to his immediate area. To a trained observer, the fabric of Dark Side fibrillated around the former Sith Warrior, now Inquisitor, rippling away and towards him, in sync with each of his elongated breaths.

Without a sound or even the rippling of his muscles, the blade turned to the side, his feet gliding to the side with a faint whisper of flesh on the mat. An imaginary strike was deflected away and Azrael's blade was a silvery blur as it countered with a powerful blow designed to slice the opponent's body from neck to waist. Low and high parries, matched with blurring counter-strikes delivered with power were executed with textbook precision. As his mind fell deeper into the Dark Side, his form changed, no longer following the strict techniques of his style, but mimicking the movements of Djem So and an imagined yet realistic duel of the Fates against a Jedi, where both fighters wielded their traditional weapons.

Not once did his eyes flicker throughout this unique brand of 'fighting' meditation.
 
The Sith Apprentice was certainly enjoying the fight as he watched from the sidelines. Theree were others further away who were also watching, but clearly they weren't going to come as close as Malphas had. He wanted to see the Form that he wanted to learn up close and personal.

Malphas had never seen this Sith before, he decided that he was new, new to the cause of the Dark Lord of the One Sith, and he smiled underneath his durasteel helmet. Even though he was more inclined to doing things directly and speaking whenever he felt, this man seemed dangerous.

He was violent in his counters against his imaginary foe, but he continually watched. Awaiting his moment to speak, when it was the least interrupting moment.

[member="Azrael Dugarde"]
 
The fight continued on, although Azrael knew not for how long. The fight did not matter, neither the whirling parries and counter-strikes, nor power cuts did not matter. The sole purpose of this 'dance' was to centre himself, to draw the Dark Side into his body, and to harness the raging current into a usable Force.

Finally, even the fight faded from his mind as the silver blur of his blade whirled around, thrust in and out, slashed and parried. His speed and strength made his body a barely visible melange of black cloth, flesh and steel. With a stamp and a flourish of the blade, Azrael abruptly returned to focus, standing still, so unnaturally that he looked more like a statue withstanding the interminable winds of time than a human.

To anyone watching, however, his shadow loomed larger than before, looking nothing like the sweating figure who owned it. Nay, black tendrils seemed to almost tangibly flow from the shadow, and if one peered carefully, the looming darkness around Azrael seemed to look like black wings wrapped around his body.

Azrael walked calmly back to the wall rack, noticing a few observers, and in his immediate vicinty, a new figure ( [member="Malphas"] ) but he did not acknowledge him. The only evidence of his recent physical exertion was a distinct sheen of sweat over his torso and face and a now almost imperceptible tremor in his muscles.

Returning the blade to it's sheath, he turned, finally nodding a welcome to the man (Malphas).

"Greetings, brother. I sense a soul in search of answers." Azrael did not know why he chose those words, although he felt an undercurrent of amusement from the Darkness Within.
 
The Sith Apprentice watched as the man finished his duel. It was a good one, considering that he wasn't actually fighting someone. He shrugged it off as if he was fighting another battle from so long ago; revisiting it as if to correct mistakes, or to simply remember a glorious victory.

At least that was the only reason why he would've fought an invisible opponent.

Direct and to the point.

"I want to employ the form you used; Form V."

Always.

[member="Azrael Dugarde"]
 
"I see". The bluntness of this man ([member="Malphas"] ) , like a blacksmith's hammer at a Forge, seemed characteristic of his naked curiosity and interest in Azrael's practise. Perhaps this temperament would make him more natural at learning this style.

"The learning of Form V requires a certain knowledge of the parry, counter and the pressing of the attack from Makashi, but also the defensive mastery of Soresu. I take it you have some knowledge of both forms?" Azrael cocked his head at the man. "And there are two divergent forms within Form V. One focus primarily upon the deflection of blaster bolts, and the other on the overwhelming of a Force wielder's defences. Are you more inclined to engage in duels or in the greater chaos of a battlefield consumed by Total War?"
 
"I am familiar with the form of Soresu." If he was meant to choose the form that he was the best at, it was certainly Form III, Soresu. He enjoyed the fluidity and elegance of Form II Makashi and the simplicity of the first Form and he tried to roll all of the forms together while he utilized Soresu, but with such a defensive fomr he was never able to counter-attack effectively unless he swiftly changed forms.

Or he continued to use Soresu and only struck when he saw an opening. His more aggressive nature forced him to require something... More from lightsaber combat.

Then he was asked which one he would prefer to learn, and he thought for a moment before he compromised.

"Are you capable of teaching both to me?"

[member="Azrael Dugarde"]
 
"I am, but the mastery of both forms of the discipline would take you decades. Even I myself, after centuries of practice, am only coming close to a complete knowledge of both of those forms."

Azrael paused, then looked at the man. He shook his head, before crossing to the weapon racks. Pulling out the katana, he calmly picked up a long block of solid wood.

Activating the droid, he gave it the thick piece of wood to carry in it's arms, outstretched.

"The first step is to see whether you have the strength to deliver a powerful blow. As an Apprentice, even with the Force augmenting your body I doubt you have the physical strength to shear this piece of wood in two." He tossed the Katana to [member="Malphas"] .

"Nevertheless, this is your chance. Cut this solid block of wood in two with a single concentrated blow."
 
When the Sith Knight told him that the mastery of both forms would take him several decades he simply rolled his eyes in an uninterested manner. Good thing he had a helmet and his cloak to cover his expression or else he certainly would have been punished. Or you're just bad.

The Sith Pureblood's head turned to look at [member="Azrael Dugarde"] when he said he doubted that he had the physical strength. That was certainly... Odd. Malphas was certainly a foot large than him, and bulkier as well. The fact that he had he doubted he had the physical strength made him fume and his fists clenched at his sides momentarily.

When the katana was tossed to him he caught it with one hand and he looked at the shorter being for a moment.

Clenching the hilt of the katana tighter, imagining it to be the neck of Azrael that he was crushing in his grasp, he soon placed his other hand on the pommel of it, mostly to make maneuvering it easier, he made sure he wasn't going to be tricked into something, but he proceeded anyway.

The katana descended from above his head and if it wasn't moved as the writer sadly suspected, he cut through the katana with a single slash, sending a handful of splinters up from the block.
 

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