Dethroned King
Member
SITH ACADEMY, KORRIBAN
Korriban. The [SIZE=10pt]tombworld[/SIZE] of the Sith. It had originally been the homeworld of the red-skinned Sith Species before they had been massacred in the Sith Holocaust. Since then it had been revered as a holy world of the Sith, where the great Dark Lords of the Sith were entombed in the Valley of Sith Lords and the best of the acolytes came to train, hone their skills, and kill. Lsinder Meruo had travelled to the tombworld to do all three of those.
His dual ruby-bladed lightsabers flashed and swerved, acting as batons in his dance. In front of him was a [SIZE=10pt]holocron[/SIZE]-projected image of a Jedi, faceless and wielding a sapphire blade. The projections blade was the only thing interactive; it would counter Lsinder’s ruby blades as if were a real thing, and deliver a small disturbing jolt if it touched Lsinder himself. The chamber around him was empty; barren and earthen, it was just wide enough that Lsinder could practice without being pressed for space, but that if he backed down he would be pressed against the hardened wall. The earthen floor, covered with the red dust that permeated throughout the planet’s deserts and valleys, forced Lsinder to dig his heels in to keep him from sliding. The trick was to move about; and the discipline of Jar’kai allowed that enough.
Pausing for a second, he deactivated the [SIZE=10pt]holocron[/SIZE] with a force-imbued wave of his hand, sweat running down his long blonde hair and high cheekbones. He’d been practicing his form for hours now, and as he deactivated his lightsabers his chest heaved up and down with each breath, his lungs screaming for oxygen in the poorly ventilated chamber.
[member="Irn"]
Korriban. The [SIZE=10pt]tombworld[/SIZE] of the Sith. It had originally been the homeworld of the red-skinned Sith Species before they had been massacred in the Sith Holocaust. Since then it had been revered as a holy world of the Sith, where the great Dark Lords of the Sith were entombed in the Valley of Sith Lords and the best of the acolytes came to train, hone their skills, and kill. Lsinder Meruo had travelled to the tombworld to do all three of those.
His dual ruby-bladed lightsabers flashed and swerved, acting as batons in his dance. In front of him was a [SIZE=10pt]holocron[/SIZE]-projected image of a Jedi, faceless and wielding a sapphire blade. The projections blade was the only thing interactive; it would counter Lsinder’s ruby blades as if were a real thing, and deliver a small disturbing jolt if it touched Lsinder himself. The chamber around him was empty; barren and earthen, it was just wide enough that Lsinder could practice without being pressed for space, but that if he backed down he would be pressed against the hardened wall. The earthen floor, covered with the red dust that permeated throughout the planet’s deserts and valleys, forced Lsinder to dig his heels in to keep him from sliding. The trick was to move about; and the discipline of Jar’kai allowed that enough.
Pausing for a second, he deactivated the [SIZE=10pt]holocron[/SIZE] with a force-imbued wave of his hand, sweat running down his long blonde hair and high cheekbones. He’d been practicing his form for hours now, and as he deactivated his lightsabers his chest heaved up and down with each breath, his lungs screaming for oxygen in the poorly ventilated chamber.
[member="Irn"]