Faction Know the Ground [TSC] | Training

[Varin Mortifer]

The impact of his fist smacked right into the side of Varin’s face, cocking his head to the side. Blood dripped from his nose and hissed as it dripped into a puddle on the ground. A grunt escaped his lungs from the impact as his eyes followed Acier. Like he was studying him.

Acier swung around Varin’s massive body just out of his sight, but he had learned to use his other senses, since drawing closer to Ignati. Scent, sounds, vibrations in the air all painted a portrait of what was happening. The jab to his ribs caused a breath to rush from his lungs, a very solid hit. Acier kept up his movement.

Varin pulled up his unarmored hand and dragged it over his nose, the blood trailed in a long line of red liquid iron.

“Very hard hits.”

He spoke as he inhaled deep, the dull pain in his ribs spoke back. He closed his eyes for a moment and the air vibrated around him. A moment went by before his eyes opened again.

Almost in a blur Varin had turned around and was upon Acier, the look in his eyes spoke that he was not holding back his punches, but he was not going to break him. His armored hand slapped the beskar hand to the side with a screeching metallic sound as sparks shot off them. His unarmored elbow came flying for Acier’s jaw. The movement’s purpose to make him duck, to which Varin raised his knee to drive it into Acier’s sternum. He would not allow him to breathe. So long as he could get a lungful of air, he could keep his pace of movement. Varin wanted to see how he would handle being unable to breathe, with added pressure of a larger adversary.

“You are a very capable fighter.”

He spoke as another heavy fist came barreling towards Acier.

“It’s evident that you fight larger opponents often. Good. We fight large enemies all the time.”

A knee came for him next.

“It would seem Vestra knew what she was looking for when she took you in.”

A final armored fist flew towards his face, stopping mere inches from him.

“And most impressive to me, you faced it. Staying close, playing angles. You fought hard and you fought smart. I think you would be a worthy addition.”

His eyes dulled back to their brown color as his armored fist unclenched to offer his hand.

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Ghruna]

"What the fuck is that!?"

"What are you?" She asked with the sort of bemusement a xenobiologist afforded a creature. "Is this a product of your sorcery, or someone else's?"

Naamino Zuukamano Suzaku

Ghruna was angry and frustrated. Fighting with a lightsaber required finesse and balance. She was still growing into her body and didn't have an abundance of either.

Her father didn't possess much finesse, but he was balanced and strong and fast. And he could do something with the Force to make his own body so strong it could resist blaster fire and lightsaber.

That frustration was immediately channeled into her outright shock at the moving corpse. She came from a simple world. One dominated by minotaurs like herself who had once been influenced by sith travellers millennia ago. It was a world of monsters, but the regular kind. Overgrown predators that hunted eight foot tall minotaurs.

Not zombies.

Ghruna took a step back. It was something she rarely did. How anyone coulf address this with calm questions was beyond her.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Desevro

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes| Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

Varin came in fast. Too fast. Ace couldn't get his forearm up in time as Varin smacked his prosthetic away, disrupting his rythm. blow cracking against his guard and ringing down the bone. The elbow that followed was meant to make him duck. And he did. Because he had to.

Varin's knee came next, hunting his ribs with brutal accuracy. Ace twisted hard, using footwork and torso rotation to take the worst of it off the centerline, but the knee still slammed into the meat of his side. The impact sent a flash of pain up his torso and forced a tight, sharp breath out of him.

But he stayed up, shifting to split the distance, trying to make Varin turn... but the giant was relentless. The heavy fist came barreling in, and Ace barely threw both forearms up just in time. The punch crashed into his guard like a meteor. He slid back several feet, boots digging trenches through the slick stone before he finally caught his balance.

The next knee he saw coming. This time, he slipped outside it by a thread, pivoting so tight around Varin's frame that the giant's leg whooshed past his hip instead of folding him.

And then the final armored fist shot toward his face, Ace knew he wouldn't have time to defend, nor was he in a position to dodge. It was one of those strikes he'd have to roll with.

Only, he didn't have to. Varin stopped. Inches from Ace's face. The giant praised his skills, which surprised him in all honesty. He'd half expected some sort of backhanded compliment or, even a totally lack of acknowledgement.

When Varin extended his hand, Ace looked at it briefly, then clasped it with his prosthetic, grip steady despite the pain radiating through his torso.

His voice came low, but firm. "Thanks. You hit like a Wampa."

It wasn't hyperbole. Ace had faced one before. Varin really did. In his own way, Ace was also acknowledging Varin's own strength.

Varin Mortifer​

 

[Naniti]

Naniti's hand snapped up to try and block the strike, but she was forced back from the limited time she had to respond to the blow. At least the full force of the strike couldn't leave her right shoulder wouldn't be numbed or useless in the struggle. It ached, but she could ignore an ache.

The strike at her knee caused the violet woman to half-step forward. But she didn't correct for it. Shade's opponent leaned into it in rolling to the side after a shove with her blade to come back up into a guard. She may have been on a knee, but a swift backward motion would have her on both feet again.

"Easy to say," the Togruta growled as the two women clashed once more.

So it wasn't enough to poke and prod, the Chiss wanted to use the whole body now. That was fine with her. Anger only helped fuel the solidity of her guard, and the fierceness of her strikes. It was infuriating not to be able to use her skates or full powers though. Instinct didn't measure up to the mathematician assassin in front of Naniti. Feelings didn't keep up with the woman's movements.

But she couldn't surrender to the rage either. Never that. It would turn from training to survival then -- whose she couldn't say, but it would ruin Lysander's class.

"How did you become as you are?" Naniti asked. Half curious, half to try and get the Chiss to talk and maybe by some stroke of fortunate it would distract the other woman.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Naniti's guard recovered fast—faster than most—but Shade read the micro-hesitation in her shoulder, the fraction of weight uneven in her stance after the knee strike. She didn't exploit it immediately. Timing mattered more than openings that vanished in a breath.

They closed again, blades meeting with a sharp, clean ring that vibrated through the courtyard stone.

Anger strengthened Naniti's form, gave her strikes heat and weight, but Shade had seen that kind of fire before—brilliant, forceful, and ultimately self-consuming if left unchecked. The Chiss absorbed each blow with controlled economy, redirecting force instead of meeting it.

Naniti's question came between impacts, breath sharp with frustration. "How did you become as you are?"

It was meant to provoke, to distract, to pull Shade's mind off the fight. It didn't.

Shade pivoted around the incoming strike, stepping just outside its arc rather than blocking. She let the blade pass through empty air. At the same time, she shifted the angle of her weapon to press lightly—not cutting, not overcommitting—against the inside line of Naniti's guard, a reminder of how narrow her defenses had become.

Only then did Shade speak, her voice low and steady. "By not asking that question in the middle of a fight." She advanced a half step—not aggressive, but inevitable—forcing Naniti to adjust or be pushed further off balance. "Curiosity is admirable," she continued, tone calm as ever, "but using it as a tactic requires timing. If your goal is to learn, ask when you can survive the answer."

Their blades met again—Naniti pressing hard, Shade redirecting the force with minimal effort. Another measured step. Another subtle correction of Naniti's stance.

Then, answering her honestly but without flourish: "Harsh training. Observation. Failure. Repetition." A shift of her blade—sliding along Naniti's guard until the Togruta was forced to widen her stance to maintain leverage. "I became as I am because I could not afford to be anything else."

She circled lightly to Naniti's weaker side, not striking, simply demonstrating control of the engagement. "Now focus." The command held no cruelty. It was merely a fact.

"Your anger makes you predictable. Your discipline makes you dangerous. Use the second. Not the first." Shade's blade lowered slightly—an invitation for Naniti to recompose, reset, and try again. A lesson, not a taunt.

Naniti

 

[Suzaku]

"What in the hells-" he grumbled under his breath, turning now to face the oncoming creature maybe a dozen yards away.

Broken nails clung to the cold earth. Scraping over and against debris. Hand over hand it moved. Head dragging slightly over the terrain. The only sign that the undead acolyte took attention to hear manifested as a twitch of its boney neck.

"Is that a corpse?!" She withheld a shriek as she stumbled sideways, bumping Naamino's blindside.

Anet stole a glance at the masked man, but her attention did not drift for long. No, it was utterly captured by this upper half shambling across the ground in a soldier's crawl. She brought a hand to her mouth - the sight and the sound made her rather sick to her stomach.

It was a moment for the scholar to reveal a truth about herself, however, as morbid curiosity wrestled with fear and disgust. She took a shaky step forward and knelt.

"What are you?" She asked with the sort of bemusement a xenobiologist afforded a creature. "Is this a product of your sorcery, or someone else's?"

With a snap of a joint the hanging neck audibly snapped, the head suddenly alert. Fine strings of black slightly obscuring one side of a rotting visage of what seemed like years. And yet the living corpse still looked...juicy. The lower half of the face had appeared to be removed and exposed the inter musculature and even bone. It could of been assumed that the creature was staring at Anet Raine , through a milky eye and its twin revealing darkside degradation. A expression of decades of rot twisting into a sudden interest.

Both pupils dilating, like a nexu eyeing its next meal. At the same time a smile appeared. A progressive toothy grin that somehow stretch past natural limits. A shovel head smile.

It was salivating now.

"What the fuck is that!?"

A wretched wail sounded from its throat. A single eye shot a look at the newest arrival. " Ehhh!!?" Pushing itself upright, Suzaku with a single motion. He ground his teeth together and snapped open a maw ready to feast. Ropes of drool pull down the torso. Then it moved! propelling itself toward Ghruna with the agility of a dug! Walking. No. Running with its hands! With a heave it jumped and latch on a nearby wall. Skittering up the surface only to ascend and then jump again!

Suzaku screamed and descended apon the acolyte.

" Ssuu-ZAAAAAKK-uuuuuu!"

Tags: Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Ever cautious and never one to let his guard down, even on the sparing grounds, Naamino remained tense and ready. He grunted his annoyance as Anet bumped into him but kept one end of his zhaboka leveled at the thing crawling toward them. His consternation turned to disbelief when the woman knelt to try and interview it.

Out of his periphery he made note of another acolyte whose attention had similarly been drawn to the scene unfolding. Just went Naami was about to ask what the feth this lady thought she'd gain from interviewing half a corpse, the thing sprang to action.

"Oh no ya don't," came the assertive bark.

Ever ready, Naamino whipped the zhaboka up and twisted in a half spin to connect the flat of the blade solidly with the thing, attempting to launch it away from them all for a moment and buy them time. He reached out a hand and Force pulled Anet's dropped saber to himself, shouting at her and immediately assuming command over those closest to what Naami could only assume was a feral sithspawn.

"Oi, look sharp," and he underhand tossed the saber to his sparing partner.

He was back in a defensive guard position within moments, shifting from foot to foot, ready to go on the attack if the zombie didn't take this chance to scamper away.

Ghruna | Anet Raine | Suzaku​

 

[Ghruna]

Then it moved! propelling itself toward Ghruna Ghruna with the agility of a dug! Walking. No. Running with its hands! With a heave it jumped and latch on a nearby wall. Skittering up the surface only to ascend and then jump again!

Suzaku screamed and descended apon the acolyte.

" Ssuu-ZAAAAAKK-uuuuuu!"

She froze. Ghruna was still mentally wrangling with exactly what she was looking at, when it started to launched itself across the ground on its palms.

Her eyes trailed it to the wall and went wide as it descended towards her.

Ever ready, Naamino whipped the zhaboka up and twisted in a half spin to connect the flat of the blade solidly with the thing, attempting to launch it away from them all for a moment and buy them time.

Ghruna watched the zabrak strike the monster. He couldn't completely stop it's momentum, but it was sent rolling to the side of Ghruna.

She took a breath.

Move she told herself.

She glanced at the zabrak. He would have seen the fear in her eyes.

"I didn't ask for your help!" she snarled at him. It was the best she could do to cover for the fact that he had saved her. She was supposed to be a fearsome warrior, daughter of a king.

As she turned after the monsters. Her hand finally remembered to go to her belt and detach her lightsaber.

 

[Anet Raine]

Ghruna | Naamino Zuukamano | Suzaku

It was strange to come face-to-face with an animated corpse. All of Anet's instincts told her something was wrong, despite her curiosity; the all-too-familiar sensation of uncanny valley.

Its eyes were those of a predator, but it was the smile that distracted her.

"How odd!" She thought - and made a mental note that it had not answered her question.

The scholar stumbled back in surprise when the creature wailed and turned its attention to Ghruna. She watched with awe at its shocking agility. First to the wall, and then suddenly in a trajectory for the Maldrani.

Then, her masked opponent launched himself into action, tossing Anet's lightsaber back to her. She fumbled it once or twice before securing the weapon, but hadn't ignited it. Instead, the acolyte (perhaps foolishly so) stepped between him and the feral corpse.

"Wait!" She exclaimed.

Anet unleashed the blue beam of her lightsaber and pointed it at Ghruna... then turned the tip, and her attention, towards the unusual interloper.

"You... You can talk." She declared.

" Ssuu-ZAAAAAKK-uuuuuu!"

It was too specific a sound and contained syllables. Such was not likely a mindless scream. Still, the half-arkanian took a cautious step forward and kept her blade ignited and at the ready.

"Explain yourself!"

 

[Naniti]

"Anger?" Naniti shifted her footing and hold over the blade in her hands. "You have no idea what you're thinking about my anger." The rings of her eyes brightened and dimmed twice as the Dark Side swirled inward as if a pit had opened, and then rebounded as if suddenly sealed one more.

The Togruta lowered her center of gravity and slowly shifted a foot back, ready to spring at the Chiss assassin. Then, just as she thought to pounce, a roar filled the air and caused Naniti's head to snap to the side in its direction. Su Zak oo?

Eyes narrowed, but then her attention snapped back toward Shade and she struck immediately. Whatever was over there with Anet and the others was of no concern; they had it handled. Enough where it wasn't spilling over into their area, however, which was more than adequate. No, her focus was needed on the blue woman before her and not someone else's problem. This time, Naniti was going to try circling and changing up postures to see if she could get Shade to open up physically. At least some kind of response that signaled the Togruta had a chance. Then she'd strike. Fast. Precise. But hard as well.

Not as hard as she wanted. Not with the passion she steadily felt growing within and the desire to unleash it without restraint. But with purpose.

 

[Shade]

Shade did not answer Naniti's words.

She let the anger roll instead—felt it surge and recoil around the Togruta like a tide that could not decide whether it wanted to drown or withdraw. The Dark Side thickened the air, sharpened intent, but it also betrayed rhythm. Shade adjusted her stance by degrees so small they were almost invisible: a shift of weight into her heels, a subtle turn of her shoulders, her center lowering just enough to ground her without committing. She did not mirror Naniti's movement. She waited.

As Naniti began to circle, changing posture, changing cadence, testing for an opening, Shade remained deceptively still. Her crimson eyes tracked everything: the tightening of fingers on the hilt, the angle of Naniti's elbows, the way her footing grew more aggressive with each step. Shade's breathing slowed rather than quickened, her presence narrowing inward, coiled but quiet.

Naniti lunged. Shade moved—not back, not away, but into the space Naniti tried to claim. Her motion was fluid and restrained, designed to interfere rather than overpower, her forearm rising to challenge the line of the blade while her other hand reached to disrupt Naniti's grip. She didn't force the motion; she redirected, testing leverage, testing balance, probing for the slightest lapse.

For a fraction of a second, the outcome balanced between them.

Shade shifted her footing, attempting to slip past Naniti's center, her shoulder angling in as she tried to unseat the Togruta's stance and strip control of the weapon in the same breath. The maneuver was clean, economical—built to end the exchange if it succeeded, or disengage instantly if it did not.

Whether Naniti yielded, resisted, or countered was no longer Shade's decision.

Shade flowed with the moment regardless, ready to release and reset if the attempt failed, or to follow through if it succeeded. Her posture never broke into aggression, never betrayed urgency. Even in motion, she was contained, deliberate, prepared for either outcome.

Her voice cut through the clash of intent—low, calm, and unmistakably final in its meaning, even if the motion itself had not yet resolved. "Enough." Not a command born of dominance. A statement of control.

Shade was already withdrawing a half-step, leaving space for Naniti to decide whether the spar concluded there—or continued on new terms. Whatever came next, Shade was ready, her balance reclaimed, her focus intact, the lesson already set in motion, whether it had landed or not.

The end of the spar now rested with Naniti.

Naniti

 

[Suzaku]

"Oh no ya don't," came the assertive bark.

Ever ready, Naamino whipped the zhaboka up and twisted in a half spin to connect the flat of the blade solidly with the thing, attempting to launch it away from them all for a moment and buy them time...

"Oi, look sharp," and he underhand tossed the saber to his sparing partner.

He was back in a defensive guard position within moments, shifting from foot to foot, ready to go on the attack if the zombie didn't take this chance to scamper away.

The living torso found itself smacked to the side with surprising force. A slight tang of the blade sounded against a metallic piece on the undead creature. There was no sound or shriek that followed after, only the hollow sound of what was left of a body colliding against a half destroyed pillar and then sliding to the ground.

Again the undead creatures claws scratched at the structure but found no lasting grip. With a thud it collapsed to the ground and the ground rose up to meet it harshly.

"Wait!" She exclaimed.

Anet unleashed the blue beam of her lightsaber and pointed it at Ghruna... then turned the tip, and her attention, towards the unusual interloper.

"You... You can talk." She declared.

It was too specific a sound and contained syllables. Such was not likely a mindless scream. Still, the half-arkanian took a cautious step forward and kept her blade ignited and at the ready.

"Explain yourself!"

A ghastly visage lifted its face out of stone, dust and dirt. Suzaku's expression narrowed at the sudden recognition from Anet Raine , then shifted into an expression of raw animosity at the zabrak. Though only briefly. " Suuuzaaakkkuu." He grumbled in a gargled snarl, but this time the name was somehow more pronounced.

Teeth chattered together.
An audible pop of the jaw.
Then a rather deliberate blink directed at the curious and bold sith students.

Pushing himself up as before, Suzaku jumped again. No. Not jumped, he levitated. The darkside irradiated off him in a fashion that felt wrong. Feral and untamed. Rising roughly five feet vertically and then backwards into the thick fog. With no lower body he was partially visible, but that would soon change.

A piece of flesh slumped away onto the ground. It was followed by partially coagulated fluids and tainted with a thicker black substance. A hint of where the creature or student was or had previously been.

" Su. Zak. Uu." More clear pronunciation sounded and echoed about.

" Su. Zak. Uu."​

" Su. Zak. Uu."​

Tags: Ghruna Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Stepping so that he rotated to keep the undead thing squarely in his direct line of sight, the big zabrak stayed thoroughly prepared to defend or attack as needed.

"Yeah yer welcome," he growled to Ghruna through clenched teeth.

The excited inquiry of Anet Raine made him no less tense, in fact it served to irritate Naami that this Sith student clearly had such a poor sense of survival.

"Lady, I dunno what's got you so keen but I'm tellin' you to keep distance— Your form isn't solid enough to be closing distance in combat, or an interrogation or whatever you're trying."

Then the thing talked again. Not necessarily beyond the pale of what Naamino had seen from undead on Korriban, though generally speaking most of the animated corpses he'd encountered there were under the direct care and instruction from the King himself, thus far more well behaved and less… unsightly than this poor wretch. Just as Naami was about to try shooing the creature off again, it rose into the air, seeming to levitate with some dark power as it drifted backward and deeper into the fog. Naami's scowl deepened and he mouthed what the ever loving feth- before calling over his shoulder to Lysander von Ascania

"Oi Lys, you got an undead problem worse than Kor'ethyr?"

Suzaku​

 

[Naniti]

A shadow fell over the Togruta's face as her stance shifted in parallel with the Chiss; a half step forward to realign herself with the other woman. Her blue eyes had the razor's edge of chiseled ice; pretty to look at, but deadly to embrace. Her muscles tensed and relaxed as the desire to hunt the Chiss standing before her ebbed and flowed through her. There was no though about it. No contemplating if it was right or appropriately. Urge alone swelled and then drew back into that silent place where the darkness dwelt.

At last, a sharp snort followed and the Togruta turned her head aside. "Don't think it'll still go your way, if you leave here an enemy." It took actual effort not to belittle the assassin or sneer something. It wasn't the first time she hadn't 'won' at something at this Academy, but that hardly made it any more tolerable. "Perhaps, if you stay, we'll do it again sometime. To get better," she added as if an explanation were needed. That too had taken conscious effort. Lysander was probably the only person she handled loss well around, Still, a little pain to grow stronger wasn't a foreign circumstance.

Not that she'd embrace the thought that losing was acceptable by any means.

Naniti's eyes narrowed just for a second as she looked back at the Chiss. "Did you make a deal to stay?" They were just letting her walk around, after all. Someone put some kind of Sith alchemical leash on her? Probably not. Irresponsibility and 'get better, scrub' at its finest.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade did not mirror the Togruta's step forward, nor did she shift her stance to match it. Where Naniti's posture sharpened—predatory, instinct-driven, ready to test boundaries—Shade settled instead into stillness, not the absence of motion but the deliberate removal of anything unnecessary. It was the kind of composure born of survival rather than discipline, a calm that did not need to announce itself because it had already accounted for the outcome.

Her crimson eyes held Naniti's without challenge or retreat, unheated and unflinching, assessing rather than reacting. When she spoke, her voice carried evenly, each word placed with care rather than force, as though truth did not require emphasis to be understood.

"I don't make deals to stay," she said calmly, allowing the sentence to stand before continuing, "I stay when it serves survival."

As the words settled between them, something in the air subtly changed—not a surge, not a flare, but a quiet tightening that had nothing to do with physical distance. Shade's presence folded inward, her Force signature constricting rather than expanding, applied with the same precision she used in combat: not to overwhelm, not to dominate, but to interfere. It was an intentional absence, a controlled dampening that sought to make the Force feel just slightly less accessible, as though the instinct to reach for it encountered resistance where there had once been ease.

She did not push. She did not escalate. She withheld.

"The Academy believes strength is proven through repetition," Shade continued, her tone unchanged even as the pressure remained, subtle and deliberate, "through loss, pain, and the expectation that endurance alone is growth. I believe strength is proven through control—through knowing when escalation serves purpose, and when it only feeds instinct."

Her gaze flicked briefly across Naniti's posture, noting the tension and release beneath muscle and discipline alike, before returning to her eyes with steady focus.

"You asked if I made a deal," she said, allowing the question to be answered fully now. "I offered utility. Information. Precision. Results that don't draw unnecessary attention." The air between them remained altered, not intensifying, not resolving, simply present—a reminder that Shade's power was not something she wielded loudly, but something she applied with intent. "They let me walk because observation is safer than restraint," she added quietly, "and because they understand I don't confuse survival with submission."

At the mention of leaving as an enemy, Shade neither bristled nor softened, her expression remaining composed, unreadable except to those who understood what restraint truly looked like. "If I leave here an enemy," she said evenly, "it will not be because I failed to adapt."

A fraction of narrowing touched her eyes—not threat, not challenge, but resolve. "And if I stay," she continued, "it will not be to accept loss as instruction or pain as proof. It will be because I chose the terrain, and because remaining serves a purpose I have already measured."

The nullifying pressure neither spiked nor dissipated. Shade held it exactly where it was—controlled, restrained, unresolved—never forcing an outcome, never naming a conclusion.

Finally, she inclined her head the barest degree, not in deference and not in challenge, but acknowledgment. "If we cross paths again," she said quietly, "it will be because one of us decided it was necessary."

And in that measured stillness—where instinct strained against something suddenly harder to grasp—the answer to Naniti's question was clear. No leash. No deal. Only precision.

Naniti

 

[Ghruna]

Anet Raine Suzaku

"Lady, I dunno what's got you so keen but I'm tellin' you to keep distance— Your form isn't solid enough to be closing distance in combat, or an interrogation or whatever you're trying."

"I agree with the one with small horns," Ghruna announced. "Keep away."

She had regathered most of her senses now. Though her grounded sense of reality was about to be tested again.

A piece of flesh slumped away onto the ground. It was followed by partially coagulated fluids and tainted with a thicker black substance. A hint of where the creature or student was or had previously been.

" Su. Zak. Uu." More clear pronunciation sounded and echoed about.

" Su. Zak. Uu."​

" Su. Zak. Uu."​

"No. No I do not like this."