[member="Lord Ajihad"] @Krest @Umai
Ferus was the father of the Assassins, his power had not missed a beat, as his rounds landed on the face of the monster Ferus took him down and issued his challenge. His teachings had not gone in vain. Ajihad moved with a quickness that was akin to slowing time, his senses making him aware of everything around him, this was a skill all assassins shared and made operations like this possible. Propping up from his prone firing position Mythos lifted his rifle and threw it to his left, the durasteel and hard weapon snapping against several arrows that came from the trees. He positioned his legs open to dodge one more arrow, the force detailed the shooters in the trees, he had to jump over and roll to avoid several more. The rain of arrows was so precise and numerous it was akin to being fired on by blaster rifles. Mythos took cover behind the tree he used to support his rifle and drew his Rudis, now was the time to engage the enemy in the open field of battle.
He fell fully into the darkside of the force and stepped off cover with his eyes on the trees. His rudis was firmly on waist level and his focus was entirely on only what he could see. He made sure that none of his allies were in sight as the arrows fell upon him, these were not warning shots he could tell, as the arrows came close enough to admire, their lethal tips aiming at his face his eyes began to shine a yellow blaze.
The projectiles began to disintegrate one by one starting with the closest. His power of deadly sight had increased incredibly since taught to him by the holocron of rage and now was one of the few times he could demonstrate it. Only ashes fell on the battlefield, the screams of a few of the creatures in the trees were evidence of his power. Mythos had drawn first blood, or at least that is how he would tell it because trees could not bleed.
Now he could smell something familiar from the trees... fear. The exertion of power had taxed him and his eyes burned, smoke coming from his pupils like the very fog that surrounded him. His body was drained but his survival instincts and reflexes were still very much functional, this was evidence when with his he kept deflecting and destroying incoming arrows. Their numbers dwindled, now their forces were down two soldiers and the trees they were perched in no longer had most of it's branches, even the fog was gone there like a radioactive residue of his might.
A blaster pistol appeared on his left hand as if on cue from his battle pack, he stood his ground and his enemies took a pause. Mythos knew where their power lied as soon as he saw it, The Sith Empire knew how to deal with tree-folk...Burn it down, Burn it all down like Thyferra. When they realized arrows would not suffice they sent the soldiers to come in close quarters, once they were a certain distance Mythos knew that the force was with them... so much more made sense now.
Before they could close the distance he fired his blaster pistol into the the trees several times, they were upon him them. Tall slender folk armored with light weaponry moving incredibly fast. He had never seen such speed here in Midvinter, he did not know what he was fighting but he was more than capable of fighting it.
Everything made sense now to Mythos now, the fog, the trees, the weapons and the secrecy.. the lake. The sound of alchemized steel rang out as he took on two of these warriors alone, the power of the dark side of the force gripping the air around them as he let loose his will upon his enemy. As they clashed none connected, their speed equal for their movements, but once the trio met Mythos' first swing let his power be known. His rudis connected with the blade of one of the warriors, his delicate features changing entirely when the shock-wave of the dark side of the force beat on him like a freighter. When his ally at his flank came in for the killing blow seeking the exposed frame of Mythos as he took his enemy down, Mythos extended his hand at a terrifying speed and using his mastery of Juyo threw his foe off balance and sent him tumbling landing close to where he had sent his ally.
Mythos smiled and opened himself up in stance, a challenge in swordsmanship across the galaxy, a boast and finally a warning, chuckling below his breath as the fog and smoke of burning in his eyes now dwindled... he had been fighting blind.
Their expressions flashed in shock but quickly turned onto ones of resolve as they once again squared their ground. Their armor was nothing flashy but it was clearly hand crafted and made by hand, none of their gear seemed produced out of a need for war.
His extensive research of the legends of these people lead him to gather what he thought was the language they spoke. Only a few words were brought before him before he came here, a total of less than fifty dozen possible words. Mythos memorized the only one he would need, so he spoke one word in their own language with an accent that could only be described as distorted.
"Kneel"
