Blind Ambition (TSA Tournament: Darth Abyss vs Otho Rendoro)

[Figure In White]

​

In the darkness, one finds emptiness. In the light, one goes blind.

Quarzite was a perilous world. Wandering to the surface insured death in crushing pressure. Beneath the ground it was survivable, but still known as a place of combat. The dust of the worlds crystals was exceptionally good at blinding someone. Those same crystals were incredibly abundant beneath the surface, creating large caverns that could create such an intense amount of light as to blind ones opponent if those crystals were used to such a degree. Of course one had to have the ability to light things up.

Neither [member="Darth Abyss"] or [member="Otho Rendoro"] would have such a luxury. The two would awake within the chamber, wearing nothing but the simplest of clothes. How they arrived there would remain a mystery to them save for the crystal in the center of the chamber. A light in a dark place. Should be simple enough to figure out. On top of this, neither of the two individuals would find themselves with weaponry, but would find that both entrances to the cavern were caved in.

When both awoke, the crystal would flash, burning an image, temporarily into their retina's.

'Fight. The victor moves on. The loser becomes nothing.'​

 

[Otho Rendoro]

Well ain’t that just a kick in the flaps.

He had been dreaming of flies. Ant-flies, to be specific. Ant-flies thinly sliced in root vinegar. Ant-flies a la mode. Ant-flies in honey amber, crystallized like the confines of the chamber. A preternatural sense of danger gripped him and Otho pushed his way to his feet. The last thing he remembered was foggy…Bastion? He had read plenty about the geology of Bastion and if the planet had anything like this massive cave, crystalbound as it was, then he would have known about it. The Ithorian steeled himself as bright light filled the room for but a moment, his sense overwhelmed as words swam before him like liquid light searing its way to the pits of his eyes.

Fight. The victor moves on. The loser becomes nothing.

Otho noticed amusingly that the images left in his eyes were in his native Ithorese. Thanks for the homey touch, you charverin’ skeezer.

Massive hands, brown as a nut but mottled and almost scaly, patted the sides of his burly physique. The master had worked him over and a layer of fat had dropped off him completely. He was unarmed. Would his opposition have the same handicap? Perhaps not. There was light at the center of the chamber and Otho started to jog heavily towards it. What sort of opponent faced him? Was it a Sith, some brute warrior, a pack of ravenous beasts, with jaws and teeth that hunger for prime Ithorian meat to rend, high endurance to wear him down?

This was no time for questions. Pull yerself together. Otho set his jaws and focused on his breathing, reaching out with extrasensory perceptions for currents in the energy as his towering form was gradually illuminated by increasingly saturated light, like a cold sunrise in this bizarre chamber, its ceiling glittering like cyclopean ice floes drifting through the void. His ears felt a tight pressure on them – difficult to know the exact number of atmospheres but it was certainly higher than surface pressure. The soporific effects of whatever had subdued him wore off quickly and in this premium state of danger, he felt every impact of his heavy feet on the hard terrain but also a heightened awareness of his own muscles and a flush of pleasure at the prospect of joining battle for his own glory and that of the Sith; his heart was beating fiercely but not in fear, but anticipation. Otho could feel the currents of latent energy from the environment curve around him seductively, awaiting his command and manipulation and a sense of calm, but alert readiness settled upon him as he became fully enveloped in light.

The Ithorian pumped his arms back and forth, taking a delight in the utter freedom of Sith puissance flowing through him in conjunction with his healthy body. Otho took up a relaxed stance, artificial hands planted almost casually on his hips. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, to saturate his blood with as much oxygen as possible for whatever tribulation lay before him. Slowly, he inhaled and relaxed his barrel-shaped chest.

Me, in a crystal chamber. The Ithorian smirked venomously as possibility played in his mind.

| [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Ignus"] |​

 

[Darth Abyss]

Always expect the unexpected was the philosophy that had allowed Abyss to make it so far as a sith. But only because he wasn't shocked or surprised by his situation didn't meant that he was pleased with it. No, in fact he was anything but pleased with it. Before the voice even announced the fight that would take place he had already begun to search for his weapons, but he had none on him. Everything had been taken, his lightsabers, his guns and even the small knife hidden in his boot. Be could fight without weapons with a certain level of skill in unarmed combat not even counting his control over the force, yet he still felt naked without them.

The light flashed into his eyes, blinding him for a moment. But the black assassin had no need for his eyes to see, the darkness was his ally. He could see, while his enemy was blinded, at least as long there was no overbearing noise around him. Before he made any move forward the sith lord took a deep breath and began to silently recite an old spell, a small magic trick created by the daughters of dathomir. It allowed him to use sound as his main source of orientation, much alike a force fueled sonar. Afterwards he picked up a small stone from the ground. Not the best weapon in the galaxy, but still better than nothing.

Normally his next step would've been to hide himself in the shadows, but the crystals flash of light suggested that there was an more elaborate option to trick his opponents senses. All he needed was a little light. As he slowly stepped forward towards the center of the cavern, red sparks danced up and down om his arms. Not to long ago they would've been blue, but a dark being called Soeht had empowered him with more power than he already held.

"Surrender now and your death will be painless."

Abyss allowed the words to echo through the cave for a moment before he released a blast of red lightning with both hands, each of them aimed at a crystal. If he had guessed right, then his lightning would light up the cave in bright, blinding red.

[member="Otho Rendoro"][member="Ignus"]

 

[Otho Rendoro]

The Ithorian had not been an adept of the Sith teachings for as much time as others, but the master had hinted that a great power slept within him and had begun to awake under his tutelage. Otho could feel the energy gather within and around his opponent before it flashed out violently, dreadful tendrils of crimson electricity arcing from pallid hands. Otho pushed off towards it – he had to start moving, even as his eyes forced themselves shut. The lightning struck the crystal and illumination flared to life, raging against the energy of the attack. Even though his eyes were closed, Otho could feel the intensity of the light, burning like an ancient sun, gigantic and beginning to run low on the fuel of its core. The lids of his eyes were little protection against the light but there would be more damage if his eyes were open.

Laser-blasted head was too big to hide anyhow.

The figure that had conjured the fell lightning that struck the crystal was like a beacon to his otherworldly sense. He crouched low and pushed his own puissance through his muscles, urging them to strain harder and propel him faster. The light would blind the other – could the power of the Dark Side allow him to protect his sight? Otho pushed the question from his mind and his awareness sharpened on the being – small, humanoid…but vast all the same. Something inside this thing pulled on everything around it, threatening to swallow it like some dense hole in space from which nothing could escape.

Otho crouched and lunge, pushing the memory of the twin planets of pain to the forefront as he sprung. Malachor and Taris were alive within him as his legs pushed him horizontally, his body almost prone as he soared through the air, eyes scrunched closed as he tried to tackle the other.

| [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Ignus'] |​