Blood and Snow [Abyss vs Ferox vs Tirdarius]

[Darth Abyss]

Edit: Forgot to add epic battle music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h33v6IYI9c4

Rhen Var, Citadel

Darth Abyss, newly named Lord of the Sith, stood with his back to the ancient statue of jedi master Ross Mysliwiec as snow began to fall down, his robe drifting in the cold winds of the frozen world of Rhen Var. The title of lord came with more than a simple claim to power, it came with a challenge to stand besides those who truly had earned it in this millennium and in those before and after. Only those with the strength to prove worthy of it would live long enough to call themselves lord of the sith for more than a few days. Proving his worth. That was why Abyss was here today, to prove that he wasn't simply a pretender who falsely called himself lord, but instead a power to be reckoned with in the years to come. He had worked hard, every day and every night since he had been the apprentice of Darth Ophidia, and now he could say with full convincement that he stood above many of those who called upon the dark side.

The hilt of his saber loosely rested in his right as he waited for his rivals, the two lords [member="Darth Ferox"] and [member="Tirdarius"], who both followed his call for a fight. He had meet both, more or less briefly, but he couldn't really say what was awaiting him today. Sith were individualists, so the possibilities of three lords in a fight were almost endless. The only thing he knew for certain was that this would be firework of swords, of the force, of trickery and treachery, a battle for the ages to remember. A battle to write songs about, so future generations could remember the things that would happen here today.

All but the lower half of his face obscured by his mask he stood in the falling snow, a hooded, black shadow in strong contrast to the white around him. The hydraulics of his cybernetic right leg made a slight hiss as the heat of their movement meet the cold air around them. He knew that, if he wanted to stand a chance against his adversaries, he had to use any part of his repertoire, so had had packed each of his weapons, small and big alike for this fight. While he openly carried his saber, the numerous knifes, and all the other tools rested hidden under his robe, unseen from the outside.

Now they only had to come.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

The chill emanating from this place penetrated deep into the blood, more pervasive than any mere temperature fluctuation, the sensation a shiver that struck out at one's very soul, grasped at by the darkness that consumed this planet in silence. In truth, seen merely through the eyes, it was a beautiful planet, this particular spot covered in gently-falling snow resting upon fallen stone and ancient ruin. But seen through the Force, it was a convergence of energies that were both tempestuous and subtle, blended together.

An appropriate place for the endeavour we are about to embark upon.

It was unusual for him to travel on such business, but Tirdarius had ever believed in advancing the Sith cause one person at a time. Another had claimed the title of Sith Lord, one so often taken but rarely grasped with any real authority, and this one had sent forth a missive with a desire to draw others of their kind to this place, such that their mettle might be tested. A good beginning, to build a foundation on strength and subtlety, rather than on mere bravado. It was sufficient to draw him from his seclusion.

Dark robes and his lightsaber were all he had chosen to bring to this contest, but he needed little else. The Force remained with him, as it always had, faithful servant and demanding partner both, always tugging, ever grasping, a game of chess that dominated his actions for the past several decades. It would serve him now, even as it would serve the others that would come: therein lay the danger of such engagements. Here, we do not dominate as we would among lesser beings, but instead stand as rivals and peers. It would be an interesting time.

Snow crunched softly beneath his boots, undoubtedly alerting the others to his presence, but he was not bothering to conceal his aura within the Force: they would sense it, as he would sense theirs, a carefully controlled nexus of energy, flowing around his consciousness, invigorating body and mind, yet claiming it as their own.
The first of them rested casually against a statue, face concealed by mask and hood, enigmatic in that regard, yet a little predictable, even so. It cannot be said that the Sith do not appreciate a sense of the dramatic, he thought in faintest amusement, a slight curve at the edge of his lips threatening a smile. Tirdarius himself was similarly clad: black knee-length boots, carefully-tailored pants gathered at the waist by a slender belt of black rancor leather, lightsaber attached at the hip. A dark uniform tunic without adornment or insignia was fastened tightly at the neck, and a long slowing outer robe of soft black material draped his frame, whispering softly against his ankles with each step.

"A time to put your training to the test, my Lord?", he asked rhetorically, offering a courteous bow as the Sith Lord came to a standstill, bending at the waist and lowering his eyes in civil repose: a simple gesture exchanged among equals. Whether they were truly that remained to be established, but it would do little harm to offer such a greeting now. "I must compliment you on your choice of battlefield. Beautifully scenic."

 

[Darth Ferus]

Freezing air filled the lungs of the Zabrak as he took his first steps off the shuttle that had brought him here. The air itself stung as he did, burning his throat all the way down to his core. If there was ever a place the Sith hated to be, it was in the cold. He was born under the hot sun, grown on deserts and volcanic planets, even honed in the fire of his old master. All had tempered him to the heat.

But the cold had become a new form of pain.

He was here for only one reason. The call of another Lord, a [member="Darth Abyss"] , asked for a challenge. Ferox always accepted a challenge, always took up a chance to fight, to sharpen his steel against another, but this was a special case. [member="Darth Ophidia"] , once his apprentice, trained this Abyss. The Zabrak's other apprentice, Ferus, fought him and did not kill him. Both of these interested the aging Lord. Was the newest generation as strong as the one he had once trained? Stronger?

Or weaker, about to be left in the snow wondering why they had issued the challenge to begin with.

Unlike [member="Tirdarius"] and Abyss the red skinned man was dressed in layers of fur. He looked more of a mercenary than a Sith. Truth be told, the only thing giving him away as Sith were his burning red eyes and heavy presence in the Force. On his hip hung his single handed sword, always ready to be drawn, but it was the only weapon on his person. He had forgone his gun, deeming it insulting to the other Sith he was to face.

This didn't mean that he didn't have other weapons of course. Within his mechanical leg another simple lightsaber was housed, ready to be released when needed. Similarly, his mechanical arm had the same. While a warrior to his very core, he always made sure he had an extra blade or two should he need it.

A glance between the two followed by a polite bow of his head was all he offered. Instead of speaking, he let his left hand rest atop the hilt of his blade. He knew why they were all here. Beautiful as the scenery was, it was only a matter of time before the got to the business at hand. In his mind, why wait?

 

[Darth Abyss]

"What a pleasure that you finally could join me on this beautiful day."

A glimpse of a smile danced over Abyss lips, as he returned the bow to the to other lords of the sith, yet his eyes never moved away from his adversaries. Sith weren't known for their honor, or at least that was the case for Abyss himself. One of them had to make the first move to open up the fight, and getting a quick and unexpected hit in before the others even had drawn their weapons was exactly the kind of behavior that allowed him to live as long as he did. He was neither a sword fighting prodigy, nor was he exceptionally talented in the force, at least for sith lord standards. His greatest strength always had been the element of surprise, treachery and raw violence if needed, and he had to be a fool to change his ways for something as meaningless as honor now that he was a lord. And Abyss was many things, but he was certainly no fool.

As he rose from his bow, his right with the saber in it shoot in the air, the snow around him following the movement due to the telekinetic force that dragged it up. Reaching roughly a arm length over Abyss head, the pull on the snow disappeared, letting the white crystals dance down around him as an obscuring cloud of dust. It was a simple trick, but it would make it harder to determine in which direction the first strike would be send. Pulling out a throwing knife with his left, hidden in the right sleeve of his robe, the sith lord took aim, and released the weapon towards [member="Darth Ferox"] in one fluid motion. The blade wasn't guided by the force, over time he simply learned a lot about throwing knifes and other things, a skill that was surprisingly useful and versatile.

As soon as the two men had had appeared, he had given them as good of a read as possible in the quick time given to him. Ferox looked a lot more like a warrior than [member="Tirdarius"]. Appearance didn't meant much for a sith, but it was the only thing Abyss could base his decision on, and it was better than nothing. If his instinct was right, Tirdarius would follow his lead and attack Ferox, simply because the Zabrak already was under attack, and maybe even because Tirdarius would determine that the Zabrak was the a bigger threat than Abyss. But it was nethertheless a risky move, Tirdarius could also take this dishonorable attack as an insult and attack Abyss instead, exactly as his other opponent. The snow dust had mostly dissolved, leaving Abyss again openly in front of the statue. Whatever would happen now, it would certainly be interesting

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

So much for the pleasantries, Tirdarius noted in amusement as Abyss made his first move of this particular chess game. A whirlwind of snow rose up, whipped into a flurry by the younger Sith's movements. This was the moment when the initial engagement would be determined: with three of them, it was inevitable that two might partner to take down the third, before turning on each other. Perhaps he might be the target...perhaps not.

Of course he knew that he would be the wild card here: the other Sith were better known for their battlefield engagements, warriors on many different fields, veterans that could call upon experience of an endless war and dozens of lesser battles. His own portfolio was more obscure in that respect: certainly he had fought many times over the decades he had been a Sith, but his work was so often done in the shadows. To stand here, overtly before those who would serve as opposition...that is a different meal.

In truth, he had not assessed either one as the greater threat: both were largely unknown to him in respects to their capabilities. He knew of both as Sith, recognised their reputations, acknowledged them as Sith, but could not pinpoint them as one thing or another in any category. To simply judge them on reputation is hubris. That had been part of his reasons for accepting a challenge such as this: he would assess them through action, not mere hearsay. What better way to measure a man's strength?

He was not the target of that first attack, however: his eyes tracked an object hurtling from Abyss' presumed position to Ferox's direction. And so I find myself assigned the position of least dangerous. That was an amusing thought, but one he could work to his advantage. Any illusion is a weapon I can use, he reflected. Was that not his path?

Unclipping the lightsaber at his hip from his belt, feeling the cool metal resting softly against his palm, the Sith Lord reached gently into the Force and drew it towards him, allowing that energy to suffuse his cells and wrap around him like a soft blanket, a familiar tingling setting his nerves aflame, ready to respond to his will, as he required of it. The soft black robe that had rested over his shoulders slid away, leaving him clad in his dark tunic and trousers, the latter truncated by the knee-length boots that protected his feet from the chill of the planet around them.

True, he might now unleash his energies in a fashion that might remind the others of his presence: perhaps a storm of blue electricity that would burn at them, or perhaps a telekinetic wave to pummel them with blunt force. A simple wave of darkness might strike at their sanity, urging them towards fury, nudging them ever closer to unhinging. Or he might simply mess with their perceptions, making them see what was not there, or induce them to perceive something differently, just sufficient that they might hesitate before his lightsaber slid between their ribs and put an end to their pretensions.

All in good time, he thought calmly, observing them both with his customary half-smile of amusement. Let us see what manner of Sith you are before things become serious. Patience was his way, and what better way to play their preconceptions than by displaying such now?

 

[Darth Ferus]

Red lips quickly turned to a frown as the snow picked up in the area. It was easy to tell how unnatural it was, given how many directions it was taking at once. All around [member="Darth Abyss"] , the one who had called [member="Tirdarius"] and Ferox here to test him. So eager the young ones were to test their metal. He would have continued to think had it not been for the whispers of the Force about an immediate threat. Without thinking about it the Zabrak's body shifted to the right, and as a line of pain formed across his cheek it quickly became clear why.

A dagger of all things.

Fresh blood slowly trickled out of the shallow wound on his face. Had it not been for the Force, what was a thin line most likely would have been a mouthful. His eyes narrowed into focus as the blue turned to red, a sign of the Dark being channeled into his form. It registered quickly on how easy of a target he was, being the first attacked. In a free for all, it was always best to gang up on the first target until they were beaten and continue the match as if it had only been two. The fact that the other older Sith hadn't struck yet contradicted it.

Perhaps he too had figured that with Abyss being the one who issued the challenge, he should be the focus.

Going on that Ferox went to close the distance between him and the younger Lord with a quick leap. Even in the snow the black hooded figure could be seen, even if a bit hazy. As he jumped his right hand pulled free the blade he had originally been holding, letting the green edged sword spring to life with the usual noise of a lightsaber. He would quickly go for the simplest of tactics, striking with all his might at Abyss in the hopes that the Zabrak's unnatural speed and might would give him the edge to push the Mindeater back.

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss simply lacked the strength to truly block the incoming strike, the crimson red blade of his saber following the backwards stumble only seconds after being ignited. As a practitioner of form two he understood the importance of footwork in this kind of situation, so instead of putting most of strength in the block he instead focused on his steps backwards, that allowed him to put the momentum of the hit into something different than dropping his saber or falling to the ground. He was far away from a master in regard of lightsaber combat, but he had trained his skills in a ways that would allow him to keep his defenses up, until he a angle or an opportunity would be shown to him. He chose the first strike because he had the skill to land it, but now a less offensive approach was key. [member="Darth Ferox"] had the physical superiority so he had to play it smart once more.

Catching his balance again after a few steps of stumbling, he raised his blade in the classic makashi salute, before he allowed to loosely hang on his side, ready to dance in the air to defend him form an incoming attack. Letting the blade rotate in his right he suddenly pushed forward. Instead of returning the blade in its normal stance, he held the weapon upside down, while to fingers pressed three buttons on the weapon at once. One activated the spring loaded knife hidden in the downside of the hilt that jumped out of the weapon immediately, the other turned on the light absorbing cells webbed into the spike on the other side of the weapon. A strange technology utilized by race of hunters and warriors, the cells could bend and absorb light, temporally shrouding a area of roughly 3 meters around him in almost absolute darkness. The last one deactivated his own weapon, making him far harder to see in the darkness.

With only the green light of his enemies saber slightly gleaming in the dark he continued his sprint, the small blade kept close to his body so he could use if for a quick stab instead of ramming the weapon as deep into the mans flesh as possible, something that would only keep him to close to his opponent. Instead of running directly towards him, Abyss aimed to walk past him on his left, trying to send the blade into the mans side on the height of his stomach and turn around once he had past him, effectively standing behind his back, at least for a moment. The wound from the attack would neither be deadly nor overly serious, it was just as another small cut like that in the zabaraks face. His plan was to rather land many small than one big hit today, aiming for the mans endurance and not his strength and speed.

He also acknowledge that [member="Tirdarius"] still stood on the side, waiting for who would win, probably so he could pick of the winner in a already drained and injured state. Other than many, Abyss had quite a bit of respect for such tactics, seeing the intelligence and awareness that stood behind it. Maybe he made the wrong choice with his first attack.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

The other two had begun in earnest: an attack of little consequence unleashed from Abyss in the form of some absurd little projectile, easily deflected by the older of the two, responded to with a vicious sword stroke, their blades moving in elegant rhythm, attack and response. Tirdarius smiled at that, pleased to be witness to such a moment: that brief transition between non-violence and the true expression of their inner selves. It was an Echani belief, that: the idea that a person might only truly be understood in the throes of battle. True or not, it is only when we do battle that Sith truly relinquish their control and let it all go. He was witnessing that warming up now.

The temptation to remain on the sidelines and wait for a victor to emerge played against his thoughts. It would be the smart move, he had to concede: though he was by no means in bad shape, he was older than either of them. Perhaps than both of them. They would have strength and speed that had diminished in him as age had progressed: he had little chance of overpowering them physically. But that's ever been my way, hasn't it? Give way and allow them to slowly ensnare themselves in a trap they did not perceive. How that might take shape remained yet to be seen.

Inhaling a deep breath, he drew upon his own energies, allowing them to swirl through him, energising in a way that no other sensation might be able to compare to. It felt as though it rose up from the tips of his toes, shooting up through his veins with a paralysing impact, setting his nerves aflame with such delightful force. The charge rolled along synapses, black shadows gathering within his mind as he drew his own inner darkness to the fore and allowed it to move that energy, malleable and at his command. Extending his fingers forward, hands splayed with fingers spread a few millimeters, that energy coalesced, a soft blue-white glow at the tips, rapidly discharging forwards towards the other two in a torrent of arcing electricity, white-hot, erratic, deadly.

He had little thought that either of them would find themselves at the mercy of such a strike, but it was an opening salvo that would warn them both not to ignore his presence here: it was easy to become blinded by the struggle of combat, the red mist of one's rage rapidly shadowing the eyes in a fashion that might block out all else around, but such complacency was the sort of mistake no Sith Lord should make - and, if they were to do so, it would undoubtedly be their last. If I wish you to take your eyes away from the board, you'll never know where my pieces are.

Never hurt to let them think otherwise though, did it?

 

[Darth Ferus]

It was as [member="Darth Abyss"] raised his blade in a salute that the Zabrak once more stood before him. Ferox was a true Djem So user, aiming to never give his opponent a breath or pause. So without holding back the red man brought his blade around for the new Lord to give him a lesson he should have learned at an early stage. Never leave yourself open for simple things such as the Makashi salute.

Or, at least, that was what he was planning before the Force screamed another warning. He was barely able to stop his strike against Abyss as the blue lighting from [member="Tirdarius"] flew for the pair. What was once an attack turned into a quick defense, aimed to catch the lighting along it's edge and send it away from his form. Yet as he did, the green blade shut down immediately.

 

[Darth Abyss]

In the blink of on eye, Abyss sprint turned into a roll, aborting the attack on [member="Darth Ferox"], and instead using the momentum to use the other sith lord as shield against the lightning fired at them by [member="Tirdarius"], as the blue fits of energy broke through the field of darkness around them. They both had made a mistake by ignoring the third combatant, who had played his cards fairly well, waiting and watching. Now he wouldn't make that mistake again, and would rather divide his attention on both of them, or even better, give them room to fight while he would set up his next attack.

Still clouded by darkness, at least for the following seconds, Abyss quickly summoned the power of the dark side around him, and while the light would slowly return, it would start to bend around him, making him nothing more than a translucent silhouette, barley noticeable by the naked eye. He had no doubt that neither of his opponents would be completely unaware of him because of his cloaking, and he made no attempt to hide his presence. It was only meant to make it harder to detriment his exact position, not take him out of the equation of this fight completely.

Cloaked he made a few steps back, bringing some distance between himself and the two other lords. With Tirdarius and Ferox now facing each other there was a good chance that the next clash would be between the two, so observing and waiting for the right time to strike was the best bet he had. The hilt if his saber rested tightly in his right, ready to spring to live should one of them make him the target of the next attack.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

The results of the impromptu attack had proven better than he had expected: the two had disengaged each other, certainly, but Ferox's weapon had deactivated, though remained in his hand, far from disarmed, while the younger of the two had simply chosen to disengage entirely, wrapping the energies of the Force around him and disappearing from view. Effective against many an opponent, but foolish when surrounded by your peers.

There were several flaws to the technique: Tirdarius himself had used it on many occasions. It was a complex technique that wove together many elements. First, one needed a firm grasp of sustained telekinesis, to craft a field that would wrap around the body like a bubble. This would, however, still create a surface for photons to impact against, making the field visible, even though the person within would be concealed from view. One had to be able to bend the light energy that contacted the surface, and that required a higher level of control - and energy - to maintain it. It was almost equivalent to a lightsaber duel with a photon particle: rather than blocking one, one had to parry it, deflect it so that it moved around the field rather than being repelled or struck by it. Not something most Sith are capable of.

Naturally, there were downsides: aside from the high level of energy required to generate and sustain such a field - something perfectly possible for a Sith Lord at the height of their powers - it was also necessary to consider the other environmental indicators that might highlight your presence. To use such an ability against a species with a heightened sense of smell, for example, might prove futile: they did not need to see you to smell you. The sound of one's breathing might similarly be a giveaway: only a Sith fully aware of the field's limitations, creative enough to adjust it accordingly, might remain truly invisible.

"Sadly, you're standing on a snow-covered planet," Tirdarius remarked, continuing the lecture as though he had been teaching Abyss the technique himself. "Your body is hidden, but the tread marks of your boots in the snow remain perfectly visible," he added with an amused smile. "So, too, your presence in the Force can be sensed: more easily, in fact, since you are drawing on larger levels of energy to maintain your shield." Indeed, the perfect concealment required drawing upon a great many varied techniques - too many to maintain without long practice.

The Sith Lord raised his hand once more and fired off another burst of brilliant white-blue energy in the direction of where Abyss' footsteps had ceased, just the briefest of jolts, not even a true burst of Force Lightning: merely the sort of low-level charge that might jar the nerves for a moment or two before dissipating. He could have subjected the other to the sort of charge that would render him inert or even dead within a minute or two, but there was no need to be uncivilised. Besides, are we not testing ourselves here?

"I applaud your creativity, but your choice of escape is sadly limited," he continued, reaching for the lightsaber at his hip, knowing he might need it in a moment. The cool metallic surface fit with comforting familiarity into his hand, pulled away from the clip that it had rested upon to provide gentle weight against his palm. "You would have done better to use it as a surprise: vanish, reorient while your opponent sorts through their confusion, then strike from behind, reappearing from another angle they had not predicted."

The Sith Lord shrugged. Such would be the tactic of an assassin caught out in the open, but an effective weapon nonetheless. Tirdarius didn't enjoy employing such things: if he was going to fight, it was best to do so face-to-face, but not every adversary deserved the sort of honourable death that such a thing might offer: some deserved only to be removed from the equation, as quickly as possible.

"But perhaps my Lord Ferox might offer you a lesson in such tactics," Tirdarius observed calmly, beckoning towards the other Sith, knowing well his background as an assassin, the sort of being that would murder a man unseen, only his victim ever knowing that he was there, destructive in a controlled, confined way, elegant and efficient. "Though most only ever learn such a thing in their last moments."

 

[Darth Ferus]

Talking. Normally a moment to strike. While [member="Tirdarius"] took the moment to taunt [member="Darth Abyss"] the Zabrak should have taken the opprotunity to strike out. But instead, he simply sheathed his sword. With the lightning the lethal edge would be inactive for some time, most likely longer than this fight would last. As he did so the mechanics in leg came to life, opening the hidden compartment and shooting the hilt of his saber into his palm.

"You would be a surprised at how much of an Assassin I am not. His master," There was a nod to Abyss's location. "And my apprentice, she was the Assassin. I'm just a bladesman. However, apprentice of my apprentice. You called two Masters to challenge you in a free for all. Yet, why must it be a free for all? You called us here. Lets see how you handle two Masters at the same time. Our fight with the Jedi will leave you in such situations, and I assume you wanted to test that."

Another snap hiss filled the air as his own red blade came to life, filling the snow with a dull red glow. "Tirdarius, shall we test his ability?"

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss didn't heard anything in [member="Tirdarius"] lecture that he hadn't known before. That his attempt to cloak himself had its flaws wasn't new to him, he simply decided that it was better than retreating without anything to shield him in some way. Others could create protection bubbles and manipulate energy thrown at them, but all Abyss had to use as defense besides his saber was his ability to hide. After all it had done the job to some degree, he managed to bring space between the two other lords without meeting the tip of a blade or burning in a fit of blue lightning. When the sith lord send another wave of the destructive blue light at him, he was ready.

The cloak fell in only a second, exactly as long as it took him to ignite the crimson red saber in his hand, using the energy blade to block of the incoming attack. It lacked the strength that Tirdarius first wave, but his muscles still tensed as he kept his blade against it.

Then hia focus shifted onto [member="Darth Ferox"] and his words. Fighting both at once would certainly be a challenge, but this kind of scenario wasn't exactly new to him.

"Many times I have been outnumbered and outmatched. Yet here I stand."

While he spoke his left moved to his back, as subtly as possible. The lightsaber still tightly gripped in his right, he looked at them with his yellow eyes, his left slowly pulling out the pin of one of the smoke grenades on his back.

"Show me you can do more than talk, old man."

The insult wasn't really meant to provoke a reaction, it was simply part of keeping the clock ticking until the right moment. Suddnely he made two moves at once. His left pushed forward, throwing the grenade towards Tiradrius, while his right pushed the buttons on his saber again, this time keeping the saber activated but still creating a cloud of darkness around him and Ferox. He had no doubts that both could see his saber in the darkness, and feel his presence, but danger often came in the finer details.

He pushed forward, letting his blade fall diagonally down on Ferox from his right, aiming for the mans chest. The blade was clearly visible, but his hand was not. As the blade came down, he aimed his left at the mans stomach, trying to give it as much momentum as possible without compromising the movement of his blade. It was from key importance that it seemed like he was actually trying to land a strike with his saber.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

A compact between us, then? The suggestion that Ferox offered was not something easily dismissed, but nor could it be taken at face value. So often have we seen Sith work together and yet turn on each other the moment there is an opening of advantage to one of them. It was a tendency that would forever draw his personal contempt: the lack of any civility would ever lower the Sith to the level of primitive barbarians when such a thing came to the fore. But on the surface of it, it is a provocative offer.

Abyss' response was almost predictable, the nature reaction of any Sith to a challenge on their ego: a coldly-worded statement that affirmed their superiority. The ego of the Sith was ever their weakness, and yet certainly their strength, something that might ever be depended upon when all else failed. That self-belief bordering on arrogance was essential: how could one rule and serve through rule if you did not have a belief in your own infallability? We cannot spend our lives looking over our shoulders, waiting for the moment a stronger being comes for us. He had been outnumbered and outgunned before: the challenge the two Sith Lords presented now was simply equal to that past obstacle.

The grenade that was thrown towards him did not concern Tirdarius at all: a simple telekinetic nudge would adjust the trajectory of it to push it aside, but he did not sense lethality from it. The Force was ever there as a warning beacon, flaring up to announce impending threat of death, but he sensed no such warning when his eyes picked out the object arcing towards him. Something more subtle, then. He approved of that: the best Sith were those who could adapt, be creative with their skills, those that might use them in unexpected ways.

The grenade struck against the ground and hissed sharply as the casing parted and unleashed a torrent of shadowy gas from the electronic innards of the weapon. Thick smoke rose upwards, obscuring the others in a rapidly-darkening fog. Tirdarius inhaled a deep breath as he saw the tendrils rising, calling upon the Force to guard his lungs against any corrosive component that the gas might carry, though if it was such a weapon, he knew he would soon feel the flesh of his skin begin to burn. Though few would use a weapon such as that in an 'amicable' duel.

He let his own lightsaber ignite, thumb pressing firmly against the activation stud, a dark-blue bar of light extending from the metallic cylinder in his hand, stopping at a full meter away from the emitter, humming softly and offering a gentle hiss as snowflakes came into contact with the luminous plasma held firmly in place by the magnetic fields of the weapon. Tirdarius knew that Abyss would once more concentrate his energies on Ferox: he had made it clear enough that he considered the younger man more of a threat, which was just fine by him.

Stalking forwards towards the other two, he felt the snow crunching beneath his boots, compacted down by his weight, the Sith Lord navigating by the Force rather than with his eyes, which were stinging at the contact with the smoke grenade's gas assaulting at his senses. The acrid scent of it irritated his nose as tears streamed involuntarily from his eyes, cold and sharp against his skin. Abyss was going to pay for that once the distance between them was closed - and Ferox would either aid in him that, or simply present himself as another opponent to be neutralised before the duel concluded.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Darkness once again? So, this is how [member="Darth Abyss"] would hope to best not one, but two dark lords? Come now child, this was their home. Any SIth's home, if they were true to the cause. He remained still as the young Lord came close, only acting as the red saber came down his way. The natural thing to do was slash out and catch the blade along the Zabrak's own, but he was growing tired. The cold was beginning to seep into his old bones. So he simply reached out for the red blade, grasping with his metallic hand.

Normally this was a foolish act. But the Zabrak's metal hand had a layer of cortosis underneath. Not the most honorable route, removing an opponents weapon, but Abyss has already shown his willingness to use his tech over his skill. There was no reason for his mind to travel towards the hidden punch, for as he would reach for the blade to deactivate it his own would lash out, thrusting for Abyss's chest without any mercy.

[member="Tirdarius"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

With his lightsaber shorted out his options to defend the incoming attack were drastically reduced. The other lords had more skill, more strength and more experience than him, so he had to use the few things that gave him an edge, like the many small tools and gadgets he carried with him. Trickery and deception always had been his weapons of choice, and it would stay the way. It was like always, he just had to find another angle, a better position, a surprise, something that would help him to stand against a superior enemy.

The stop of his blade had pushed of his balance, but as someone skilled in form the he was able to pull his left leg back, and after a slight stumble he managed to stay on his feet with enough stability for a subtle movement. Most of his weight focused on his left, he pulled his right leg back, moving his position to stand with his left shoulder aiming towards [member="Darth Ferox"], and bowed his body backwards. The blade danced slighty above his chest, he could feel as the heat burned his flesh lightly, but not enough to truly cut into his body.

It wasn't the best position to be in, but there was one thing he had that the two other lords had already lost. Their youth. At a certain point the flesh lost its strength, so to keep their speed and strength both his opponents needed to draw from the force to amplify their body, something Abyss had no need for, a man only slightly older than 20 years. If he could manage to stay on his feet long he enough, the zabrak would slowly burn out, overcome from fatigue from the constant enforcement of his body, or at least he hoped so. [member="Tirdarius"] was playing it smart, restating his movements until now.

His left pushed forward, for the swordarm of his adversary, more in an attempt to have something to reinforce his balance then to actually block the arm from moving. Hoping that he could use the man as an anchor of sorts, he made a step back, trying to standr shoulder to shoulder with his opponent. It would give him a few seconds at best, but every second outside the mans reach would drain his endurance.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

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

Tirdarius felt more than saw Ferox's actions cut out the lightsaber that Abyss had depended upon, the sudden cessation of one lightsaber's hum normally meaning that the battle was over. There was no accompanying death scream through the Force, no evidence that Abyss had breathed his last, his life's blood pumping away red upon the white snow beneath their feet, so there was something else at play here. The smoke slowly gave way, his eyes returning to acuity, clarity coming forth and allowing him to envision the scene as the other two Lords played at deadly purpose.

Abyss had dropped low beneath a scything attack launched by the older of the two, reaching out to grab at Ferox as though he might use the other man to stop him hitting the ground completely, a desperate gamble that frankly might have been better avoided. The other Sith might have done better to surrender to the planet's light gravity, letting it draw him down to the soft cushioning snow beneath him, that he might be better positioned to offer a counter, or roll away from Ferox's follow-up strike, the one that was certain to come. Positioned as you are, he has a grip upon you, too.

He might have left them both to it: Ferox seemed to be doing just fine dealing with Abyss all by himself, and Tirdarius might have simply been left to sweep up afterwards, but that was not the purpose of their duel here. Abyss wanted to test his mettle against multiple opponents, and the time might yet come when the boy would reassert himself and push Ferox onto the back foot. Finishing him together might put an end to this.

Striding forward, he slashed outwards, the dark-blue bar of light striking for the point just beneath where Abyss was falling towards when he reached out to grab Ferox. Now in striking distance of both the other two Sith, Tirdarius knew well enough to be wary, but also knew that he had an opportunity now that would dissipate in a fraction of a second, so it was best to be decisive. All Ferox would have to do would be to push the boy forward and his body would intersect with that beam of burning plasma, perhaps lethally. Not how this duel was supposed to end, but better that than the alternative.

They were Sith. Sooner or later someone would raise the stakes, and this simulated battle would become very real indeed.

 

[Darth Ferus]

So many parts of the Zabraks mind began to work as he stared down to [member="Darth Abyss"] in his desperate attempt to cling to victory. He had lost his weapon, lost his footing, yet still grasped out at even the slightest chance to win. Ophidia had trained him well. A Sith should never give up. When retreat and victory seemed impossible, a Sith should lay their lives on the line to bring down who ever they could with them. There was no greater dishonor than to simply lay down and die.

Yet as he was about to start his next move, a third player finally joined the game. His blue eyes could only glance over to [member="Tirdarius"] for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to see, and hear, what was about to happen. Abyss was pinned between a rock and a hard place. The next move became rather clear as his metallic and free arm came underneath where Abyss was holding his sword arm, and the snap hiss of the hidden lightsaber within his wrist came to life. In a quick motion he went to cutting the boys hand from his.

Where would he go now? To let go was to fall upon the blue blade now burning below him. To hold on was to do the same regardless, but loose a hand. The Zabrak was genuinely curious to see how the Mindeater would work his way out of this predicament.

 

[Darth Abyss]

To fall was to lose, maybe even to die. Abyss wasn't ready to fade into the eternal darkness just yet, at least not without taking someone with him, and he would even pay the price of his hand if he had to. In his mind fear was running rampant, but he wasn't just a man anymore. Fear was a tool, and so fear become anger, and anger became obsession. Obsession for survival, for victory, a mindless rage that left him with nothing but a primal urge to kill.

"If I fall, you will to."

Obsession became strength, and strength became power. Power which wandered from his mind, through his yellow eyes which burned with what could only be described as madness, and finally became lightning in the fingertips of his left hand. It wasn't the deadly storms [member="Tirdarius"] could summon, but they were still strong enough to fry most normal men in a matter of seconds. [member="Darth Ferox"] was no normal man, but beyond his power he was still made of flesh, and flesh could burn. Maybe it would be enough to stop the zabrak from cutting of his hand, but if not it would be a sacrifice that had to be made.

Without loosening his grip, Abyss dropped his balance, allowing his body to fall to the ground, into the lightning created by Tirdarius, trying to pull Ferox with him. The Zabark was heavier and taller than Abyss, but he hoped that the shock of his lightning would be enough to catch the man of balance. His mind had faded, and only the beast within was now left to fight this two masters of the dark side.