Sith 101

[Darth Ferus]

Bastion. The Capital belonged to the Sith now, and the fighting from the local resistance seems to have faded. It had been only a week since the end of the ground war, and Krest had decided to train the younger members of the order. Within the building that would soon become the Sith Temple he stood dressed in the black cloak of the Sith, his hands clasped behind his back. For now, he was going to wait. He was fairly certain the new generation of the Sith wouldn't pass up a free lesson.

[member="Etheriud Yvvera"] [member="Selene"] [member="Victor Mors"] [member="Otho Rendoro"] [member="Kith Verloren"]

 

[Ignatius]

Now that is an old name to see.

Krest. An old master I once had when I was with the Sith Assassins. However, I had other things to do. I wanted to find something that belonged to me. Now that it was in my possession, I could continue my training. Rubbing the black tattoo of Naga Sadow on my neck, I walked past others in the temple as my left hand held onto saya of the Katana. Walking past other people within the Ascendancy, I removed myself from my own exile. However, I would consider myself still one. As I had no ambition to aid those who would prevent me from reaching my goals.

Coming around the corner, and into the room that the Zabrak stood in. I smiled a little as I pushed the hair out of my eyes. It looked like I was the first one here. So, I thought I might as well speak to the man personally.

"It's been forever since I have seen your face. Little older, but still there."

I trusted Krest, but to a point. He started me on the path to become an assassin, and helped me learn what I could do. It was by my skills after that, and the teachings of Kruel that I became something more. It was here that I came to finish my lessons with the man. Maybe learn a little more, and get a little stronger.

Ever since I ended my sister's life, I have found to be a little more open to the galaxy. I wasn't worried about what could be out there. I wanted to learn more.

"I hope you don't mind my face around here. Seems like you guys might need an extra hand."

[member="Krest"]

 

[Otho Rendoro]

“Is that supposed to be some sort of snarking joke?” came a rich, yet strident basso rumble from the other side of the room as the giant, lumbering form of Otho entered the training room from the opposite corridor. Time spent since Malachor V under the tutelage of Krest, securing a new base of operations here on Bastion, had cut any excess off his figure and the Ithorian’s monstrous muscularity was apparent even in simple black robes that he had procured. They were similar to those of many of the other acolytes, but there had been a necessity to have a droid tailor them due to his bulk. His stomach still felt empty – the Sith had not designed their food stores within Ithorians in mind and Otho was still unused to a mostly herbivorous diet of roots, shoots and leaves.

On the other hand, maybe a little anger sharpened his mind. Even in the short time he had been among [member="Krest"]’s cohort, he felt that something radical had awakened inside him; it was an inner power that pushed on and flared his ambition wildly, his awareness of himself, his own body and others radically enhanced. The upper and lower limits of experience seemed open to him and he took great pleasure in waking up in the morning, even if he had to either train physically or devote himself to hours of defending against electronic warfare. He knew the lord would be training today and he’d be damned if he missed anything that Krest had to offer – as far as Otho was concerned Krest had a hand’s worth of knowledge to pass on, if not more.

Two cybernetic hands planted themselves above his hips, Otho’s brow furrowed as he took in the third Sith as quickly as possible. Like Otho, she bore a sword, but hers was of a curious make compared to the fairly standard one on his hip. Unlike Otho, she was quite small; he noted that she had a twitchy and agile look about her, like a starving animal that would chew its own leg off to end your life on some faraway day when you had forgotten her pain.

Otho guffawed internally. She didn’t look like she’d survive a thermal detonator, despite whatever savage tricks she might have up her sleeve.

| [member="Selene"] |

 

[Poe]

​Entering the building I felt the cold, yet refreshing, energy of the Darkside wash over me. I was still adjusting to the Force, mentally and physically, but found myself craving more once I discovered the early nature of my abilities. It was here under the eyes of this Krest, a Lord of the Sith, that I would begin my first true understanding of the Force, and subsequently the Darkside. Casually I strolled across the floor, taking in my surroundings. One of the first lessons my former handlers had taught me was to observe the area you were contained in, focusing on exit strategies in the event things went sour. I did not suspect any wrong doings were headed my way, but it was best practice to always side on the err of caution.

​My long legs closed the gap and soon I stood amongst the others. I briefly glanced at the other two, awarding them a barely noticeable nod of my head, then turned my full attention to the one radiating with immense power. He, like the others, bore a name of a species I never heard of; then again being locked away like a feral animal back on Nal Hutta had robbed much from me in ways of the galaxy. I brushed a long, white strand of my hair from face before saying, ​"My name is Satia. No last name, just Satia." ​I felt the stirrings in my stomach and my mouth water slightly standing among prey. I hadn't eaten before arriving, a mistake I now regretted, but this wasn't the place nor where these the people to feed off. Closing my eyes, I suppressed the need to eat, then opened them up.

​"I am told you are the one called Krest? Or is it Lord Krest? Or just Krest," ​I continued with great effort as to not sound mocking. My tongue, as it been revealed to me, had a venomous edge to it. It wasn't just my nature to offend others, it was a gift that simply came with ease. Needless to say, I wouldn't be gaining many allies among the Sith.



[member="Krest"] [member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"So another of the Assassins has found their way back." A smile played upon the Sith's face as he turned to [member="Selene"] and bowed his head. It had been some time since he last saw the woman, and she had clearly changed. "You are of course welcome Akuma, though there are some new acolytes you should watch out for." A friendly warning of potential rivals. One of which, who entered. [member="Otho Rendoro"] , Ithorian, terrorist, powerful in the Force. He too would receive a nod from the Lord.

But it was the last to join them that held Krest's interest. New faces were always of an interest to Krest. He listened to [member="Satia"] , his blue eyes giving no hint of annoyance at her words, or any other emotion for that matter. When she asked her question however, he laughed a hearty laugh and responded. "Krest is fine. I don't care if you toss the Lord there or not, but do keep in mind that other Sith may make it mandatory." A warning, in case anyone here would speak to another Lord as they would Krest.

"Now that there is a bit of a class formed, I'll begin. How many of you know the Sith Code?"

 

[Ignatius]

I smiled lightly as Krest spoke to me. Then warned me of others who came. I was about to speak that I wouldn't be too worried about them. I would find a way around. The Ithorian walked in and had a rather condescending tone with his deep baritone voice. I just shook my head at the larger being. I was sure he would be discovering my fighting style. Carrying a katana, small form, and wire-like body. He knew I was fast and agile. However, I doubt he knew how fast, and agile.

I smiled with a toothy grin in his direction. Attitude already showed he didn't like me. And likely heard the conversation between Krest and myself. Did he really think Krest was going to pick favorites? Speaking plainly as I could hear someone else enter the room.

"That name is gone. Selene is who I am."

Turning around, I saw the girl before me. Very goth like. White skin, White hair. Snow White even. She introduced herself. I mostly let the name slip past me. Something with an S? Sarah? Sam? No clue, but she seemed to be talented in something other than physical strength. As for what it would be, I had no clue as of this moment.

It was when Krest spoke back to her, and then asked us if we knew the code, I nodded my head. If he was talking about the code I have heard before then yes. Unless there was some new code these Sith followed, then I guess I will have to learn all over again.

[member="Krest"], [member="Satia"], [member="Otho Rendoro"] ,

 

[Otho Rendoro]

What a fantastic development – more of these self-important little things. Maybe [member="Krest"] wanted to stable himself up with tiny, vicious females, Otho wasn’t at liberty to evaluate battle plans. The past few years, Otho had seen less and less females of his species. After all those beings went missing across the galaxy years ago, the renegade expected that the priests and elders had tried to recall as many as possible to continue their species. Ithorians were long-sighted like that, always trying to live both in harmony with nature and utilize it as passively and serenely as possible. While Otho thought there was some small measure of merit to that, such a placid attitude would only bring them harm; so many other races did not take such caution, either because they were short-lived or they simply did not care. Now, how many worlds across the galaxy were stripped of their resources in the name of progress? And more pressingly – had his people done anything to stop it?

Of course, they hadn’t – that would require decisive action!

The newcomer was alike to the first being the master had spoken to -- alike, and yet not. She had a similar presence, viperous and deadly if you took an eye off her, but her shock of hair was white and she was quite a good deal taller than the other, although Otho's chin outpaced the top of her head. Krest spoke – the Code of the Sith was the bottom level of instruction and easily accessible even in the commotion of the past week, setting up this new Temple on Bastion. The raven-haired, diminutive Sith nodded and Otho noted what he perceived as a cavalier attitude on her part.

“Peace,” he began slowly, his voice melodious as it filled the chamber, “is a lie. There is only passion.” An economic truth if he ever heard one. Passion governed all exchange, from the purchase of an impressive speeder to filing tax liens against one’s enemies so you might acquire their property against their will. It had ruled over him and in his short time with the Sith, it pulsed within him like a hidden font of puissance.

| [member="Selene"] | [member="Satia"] |

 

[Poe]

​I stood in eerie silence, contemplating what this Code of the Sith was. I had heard, briefly, that such a code existed when I was admitted into the Sith Ascendancy, but the words and it's meaning was elusive to me. Among the three attendees, it was I who was the least knowledgeable with this topic. I opened my mouth to make an inquiry when the alien, who stood taller than myself, spoke first; starting with the word 'peace.' In my short life, I had never known peace, only chaos, murder, and survival; and I found it rather amusing how murder and survival were eternally coupled. I mentally agreed with the alien, peace was an absolute lie. But it was his mention of the word 'passion' that grew the most interest from me.

​From the onset of my early enslaved days, I had seen passion in many forms. My punishment in the forms of brutal whippings were conducted by the handlers with passion. I had seen weak trainees in the pit murdered for their failures by the handlers who seemed very passionate about expressing their distaste for weakness. Soon I began to find my own manner of passion. I grew passionate, almost erotically even, when it came to murdering those not worthy to stand with or against me. I was quite passionate about eating the flesh of my enemies, always finding cause to kill under the guise of sating my appetite. But most important, I was the most passionate when it came to deceit and treacherous acts, not all my betrayals ended in death; because there are far ways to ruin someone other than just removing them from the galaxy's equation.

​At once, like a shadowy hand striking me from the unknown regions of my mind, I began to crave to unlock the Sith Code and it's true meaning. "This code we are to learn, Krest," ​I began cutting off the tall alien, ​"Is this a mantra all Sith must follow, or is it just a guideline we are meant to follow with our own understanding of how it pertains to us, the individual?"

[member="Krest"] [member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Selene it is then." And that would be the last on the matter with [member="Selene"] and her name. He wasn't too worried about her for the beginning of this lesson, as most of what he would say she already knew. If anything, she would assist the newer Sith in their learning. He cast a side glance to [member="Otho Rendoro"] as he began the code, nodding once as he had gotten the first part right.

Yet before he could finish, [member="Satia"] spoke. A surprised grin formed on his lips as he answered. "A weapon does not ask why it is swung, or why it killed. It simply does, mindlessly obeying their master. I'm not here to train weapons, but potential Lords and Ladies who think for themselves. Always question what your teachers will tell you. But, never do so in a way that challenges them. At least, not until you can kill them yourself." A complicated answer, but that was the point. Nothing would be simply be handed out after all.

"Peace is a Lie, there is only Passion.​

Through Passion, I gain Strength.​

Through Strength, I gain Power.​

Through Power, Victory.​

Through Victory, My chains are broken.​

​

The Force shall set me free."​

​

Krest spoke the words, looking between them all. "To me, this code represents the freedom a Sith can obtain, and the importance of never sitting still. We are to live every day better then the last, constantly evolving and pushing ourselves to become something more. What do you think it means?"

 

[Iron Knight Loarko]

[member="Krest"] [member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"] [member="Satia"]


The ex-Jedi Temple Guard turned Sith made his way to the meeting place for the 'free lesson.' He'd never gotten any real formal training, as those who tried eventually left him in the dust. Was it the fact that he wasn't human? Or maybe that he was too strong for them. Loarko felt that it was prejudice that prevented him from gaining the training he deserved. But the Sith weren't like that. Every member was considered one of them, regardless of your race or gender. What he gained from his time as a Jedi was to have no sympathy for the Jedi as well as his own unique combat style. Though never fully utilized, as he was rarely assigned anything, he used a saber pike with a reverse grip to slice attackers. Loarko edged into the meeting hall and addressed his comrades. "Greetings, brothers and sisters! I'm Loarko, and I fully believe what Krest has just said to us. I've sat still, chained to the ground by the Jedi for most of my life. Now that I'm here, I can finally do something right for myself."

 

[Ignatius]

I kept my face clear as the Ithorian spoke the first line of the code. He was right to say that peace was a lie. However, he was far from the truth. There are many forms of peace. Many in which he did not understand. I may only be an acolyte. I may have not received the title of Lady, or become a Knight. But I sure as hell knew what the code meant. The new girl spoke up. Satia asked if the code was one strictly adhered to, or left up to interpretation.

I smiled lightly under my locks of black hair. Krest answering that all Sith hold to it, but do so in their own way. Yet do not question the judgment of their master unless they can kill them. For me, it seemed that either my master would leave me, or leave me in some form. Death, Life, or purely because they didn't want to teach me anymore. I had to create my own code. One that I could understand.

Peace may be a lie, but it was with this passion that we could gain our own form of peace. Through this passion, we would gain strength to obtain this peace. and strength to power, power to victory, and from these victories over that which holds us, through these victories we remove our chains. Be it our own master, our past, loved ones, or even our very thoughts. We gain our peace. A Sith's form of peace is freedom. The freedom to continue practicing our code. The freedom to fight and gain more strength. The freedom to break any bond that may attempt to hold us.

Many times, Sith have been known to cheat death. The reason behind it, was death held that particular Sith back from becoming free. Thus they break that chain. I have done this. Dying at the hands of many, and being forced into the Netherworld. I only live now to fight for a chance to return to hell, and redeem those I care for. To give them a second chance like I was given.

The Netherworld broke open. It was the cause for many things. This was my birth. My birth into a Sith.

Krest gave his twist. Of becoming an ever evolving creature. One that could continue to fight to become better for whatever reason given. He then asked what we thought of it. I was going to speak before an interruption of a droid being. One that spoke of being with the Jedi, and yet now has broken free from them to become what it wanted.

I scoffed.

"If breaking through physical chains is all that gives you strength droid, then I suggest you leave. You will not find so easy of tests here."

Looking to the being, I could remember something about droid like beings fighting with sabers. Was he part of what was once the Iron Knights? Either way, I continued despite its reaction to answer Krest.

"Freedom is gained by obtaining the power to overcome what stands in your way. If that means removing peace from the equation, then do so. However, once we obtain this freedom, a Sith obtains their form of peace. Be it by the blood of their foes, by a pen, or by manipulation. This peace can be a continuation of war, governing an entire system, or becoming a vagabond. It all depends upon the individual."

Sith do know of peace. Anyone can obtain a peace among themselves. However, peace as a group, or peace as a society will never last for long. The peace that many speak and think of is truly a lie. However, to blindly believe that all peace, any peace whatsoever was a lie, only provided you a weakness in which you will perish, and you will never complete the code.

[member="Iron Knight Loarko"], [member="Krest"], [member="Satia"], [member="Otho Rendoro"],

 

[Otho Rendoro]

He noted with some interest the metallic droid body. His awareness felt the same vital essence that surrounded the others, so unlike the cold machine shells he was used to repairing and modifying. Curious karkin' creatures everywhere you look in the galaxy. The diminutive being spoke and the Ithorian felt a slow pulse of annoyance in his spinal cord. Otho’s voice was like a crashing wave as he barked out a snide yet joyous laughter, an accent mark among these dour Sith; it was a snort of derision that rose in him suddenly and he did little to control it.

“The Code speaks to the internal war – the never-ending journey to power and self-discovery. If you ever think there can be something even resembling peace on such a road, you will be crushed under the trampling feet of the Sith who come behind you.” Two mouths’ worth of words filled the chamber and Otho did little to suppress his volume. How many of these so-called Sith were witless worms, never having seen the sun before they came to Bastion?

Peace existed in fragments: it was the quiet time when ancient enemies put down their weapons and tended the land, the home and the children. With the Sith, there could be no peace; even the nominal peace between wars would be a time of conflict and it was this conflict that was represented in himself and the desire to prove himself. Otho could feel that it would be an unending spiral to new heights that would continue until one stronger than himself could end his life. And if it could not be ended, there would be no limit to his…

There was a word in Ithorese, the stereophonic language that was characteristic of his species. Lawul. The irrepressible urge that pushed creatures to new heights – more population, more knowledge, longer lifespans; that is lawul and the placid Ithorians could never understand it as a Sith could.

| [member="Krest"] | [member="Selene"] | [member="Satia"] | [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] |

 

[Poe]

​The arrival of this droid raised my haunches momentarily. The only dealings I had with droids were training droids and slave master droids, the former designed to test one's skills against then to only be slaughteredif you conditioned yourself properly to repel their relentless assault. I hated training with droids, the waves of satisfaction that came with destroying someone or something always crashed upon the shores of boredom; and you can't eat metal like you can flesh. The latter, however, were monsters in metal shells. Programmed to punish without conscience thought or feelings, even the flesh masters on Nal Hutta at times expressed some manner of feelings when they took the whip, or hot brand, to you; but not droids, their emotionless programming made them excellent distributors of pain. I ignored the droid for now, my observant eyes and ears had picked up on something far more entertaining than acknowledging a droid.

​I slowly began clapping my cold hands together, whilst unaware that I was nibbling on my lower lip. These two, the woman and alien, had managed to get into a debate over the code, mainly the word 'peace'; and it wasn't the excitement of the argument that made my body tingle inside; it was potential that someone might actually die here today. ​"It seems to me there is some amount of confusion here," I commented taking a step back. ​"Words are meaningless unless you formulate an idea or plan of action to back them up. Like, let's say a duel perhaps."

​I hoped a duel would break out, with the result of one being killed and the other serious injured; ridding me of one rival and weakening the other. However, if nobody died then nothing was lost; I would have gained an knowledgeable glimpse in the form of an advantage of how these conducted themselves in a duel. Knowledge was power but when you're opportunist like me, knowledge can be the exact weapon needed to strike down one's enemy.



[member="Krest"] [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] [member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Don't dismiss words so easily. They hold power, just not so easily over your fellow Sith. But," The Zabrak cast a glance to [member="Satia"] . "She is correct. The one who is right is the one who survives the longest." [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] had come at a good time it seemed. He would offer the Shard a single nod before continuing. An even number meant thag there wpuld be easy pairs for what he was going to actually teach, though the droid might not get as much use from it.

"Channeling the Force is easier, yet difficult for Sith. Our emotions fuel our power. As the code says, passion gives use strength. We bend the world to our will, but this is not easy. First, you have to control your emotions. Satia, you will fight the shard. Otho, Selene, you will see who is right. Bend the Force and your emotions to your will, and win. Should you die here, you will not be missed. Remember that." He didn't show them any tricks, or teach them how to channel the Force, instead he wanted to see their raw talent. That, and he wanted to root out any of the weak that may be before him.

[member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Iron Knight Loarko]

"So be it, I'll fight her. But first I need to shed my weakness. I must fight without aid, to show my true skill." The Shard opened the compartment that housed him, and unhooked himself. Loarko ejected his crystalline body from the droid host, landing on the floor with a thud. His saber pike was nearby, ready for use. Using the force, the saber pike was ignited and levitated over to where Loarko sat. By telepathy, he spoke to [member="Satia"] "You may find that you've gained an upper hand, but be ready." Spinning the blade with the Force, Loarko spoke again, this time to [member="Krest"] . "I'm not one to use crutches to get by in life. This act of mine is to ensure that everyone fight in their true forms." The pike began to spin around like a helicopter, then assumed a Soresu stance. "Ready when you are, Satia. May the Force be with us both."

 

[Lark]

Lark silently strode through the hallways, making his way towards the training session like a ghost haunting its way through the ancient temple. After ages of searching, he was within reach of knowledge, powers, and possibilities previously unobtainable. The thought threatened to rouse him from his normally serene manner, so he pushed his desires back into the dark recess of his mind. Now was the time to train and prove oneself, not idle thought.

He walked quietly into the training room, not wanting to disturb the session. The Sith Lord, Lark had heard that his name was [member="Krest"], stood in front of four other apprentices, two of whom looked as though they meant to duel. Lark took in the scene with an observant gaze, yellow eyes glowing like an angel's halo. He blinked, and his gaze turned demonic, his orange eyes burned as though all the fire in the galaxy was imprisoned within them. He closed his eyes once more, and when they opened they turned hollow, void of any emotion, cold enough to freeze the molten rivers of Mustafar. He nodded to Krest, and curiously watched as the duel grew closer to starting.

[member="Iron Knight Loarko"] [member="Satia"] [member="Otho Rendoro"] [member="Selene"]

 

[Ignatius]

I simply rolled my eyes. This other Sith felt the need to belittle my statement. Did he not understand what I spoke of? Peace is of the individual. If war, created your "inner peace" then so it was your peace. Peace is not always a time without war. Either way, I wasn't going to voice this. If he was stupid enough to believe it, then I would let him feel that way. Maybe soon he would learn a lesson in how real strength comes from the trials you have faced, and not some idea you have. You have to put your idea to the test multiple times to be sure. I have done that. I don't see how he could.

As Satia here started to clap and ask for a duel between the two of us, I knew right from the get go, she was smarter than she looked. Not one to mess around, but act as though she were. I liked it. She would prove to be either a very good ally, or rival should the needs for any arise. Krest then confirmed this, and even stated that we should put it to the test. Rolling my eyes once more. Krest knew I was more than capable of handling this. However, what would happen during this little altercation would force me to learn and evolve once more to become better.

As someone else entered the room, silently as though the just wanted to watch, I looked to the larger being.

"Foolish to do this, but regardless, ready your weapon and attack when you feel like it."

I didn't draw my weapon. I just stood there. Not moving, however, I had a tight grip on the opening of the saya. My right hand hanging almost limply to my side.

[member="Lark"], [member="Iron Knight Loarko"], @Krest @Satia, [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Otho Rendoro]

Otho restrained the uproar of insolence that welled up within him when they paired off. The white-haired one had played them, Krest and all the rest, and it was then that Otho resolved he would never trust [member="Satia"] with anything. He remembered the words of Lord [member="Krest"] on Malachor V: pain gives us strength but we must have control and the Ithorian took a deep breath, letting his rage bubble away from himself. He tried to divorce the present self from it, letting his emotions be something he reached out to for power and not something that ruled him. If he could not rule himself, he would not be able to crush the white-haired Sith’s skull between his hands. He squared his double-jaws and both eyes looked over the smallest Sith.

Otho looked over the one who would attempt to kill him, his eyes trying to take in every detail. His arcane perceptions returned nothing, but that did not give him any new information. There was a slight hunch in [member="Selene"]’s posture which defeated the image of the strong, self-assured Sith that she attempted to project. Bracers covered her arms – smart, to defend from blade or saber attacks. Tiny imperfections dotted her chin and what little of her exposed neck he could see. Otho’s eyes narrowed. They were the marks of teeth.

The little one did not draw her sword, but bid him do so. She would receive no such pleasure. He slowed down his movements, sluggishly undoing the belt that held the scabbard to his hip. It cluttered to the floor, the plasteel clattering with its impact. It skittered ominously across the floor as he swept at it with his gargantuan foot, unshod against the cool flooring.

“If you are so eager to die as the white coward’s slave” he started mockingly, releasing his anger temporarily on the last word, then reining it back in like a trained animal, “you may come and die, little Sith.” He belted out a quick, loud laugh, smirking challengingly at the tiny figure attempting to intimidate him with hand-on-scabbard.

| [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] | [member="Lark"] |

 

[Poe]

​I smiled hauntingly at my opponent when he mentioned 'fighting in true form', for the only form I knew was savagery and brutality. I might be a few steps behind those here in terms of the Force, but when it came to the art of killing; none where my equal minus Krest. I threw back my hooded robe, letting it cascade to the floor behind me, leaving me in my traditional Sith garments. "Indeed, may the Darkside watch over us," ​I retorted slipping the hilt from my sash. My weapon, unlike the others I was almost sure, was still a training device; I had yet to learn how to construct my own personal weapon. But the weapon in my hand, this exotic beauty, and I spent many moonlit nights dancing together like two lovers; gently caressing one another until we came to an understanding of what we both brought to this unholy union.

​I slowly began back stepping from my opponent, putting enough distance between us, whilst flowing casually into my own created form, Whirling Dervish. Gauging the distance was in my favor, I said, ​"Now I am ready." ​I thumbed the activation stud on the training hilt, and with a hideous snap-hiss​,​ the red snake-like tendril from my lightwhip flicked it's burning and crackling tongue; coiling up next to me on the floor.


[member="Krest"] [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] [member="Lark"] [member="Selene"] [member="Otho Rendoro"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Lark"] would receive a nod in response. Another to join, making the number odd. Ah well, he might have to wait. [member="Iron Knight Loarko"] however, did something odd. He removed his body, forcing him to be nothing more then a gem on the ground. All for foolish pride? The Zabrak didn't remove his arm to prove a point. Didn't limit himself to a single leg to prove a point. Pride had it's benefits for Sith. But this?

Foolish.

A sixth presence however came into the room as the Lord had been staring at the gem with a floating spear. Another human by the looks of him, dressed in a black cloak with no distinguishing features able to be shown. He stepped right up to the Lord, pulled down his black hood to show his younger face, and spoke. "So you must be the Lord handing out free lessons. Well, what do you have to show? All I see are these weaklings fighting among themselves." Orange eyes stared over at the dueling pairs with contempt. "I hope you won't be doing the same with me. Would be a waste to kill another of these off."

A frown settled upon the Zabrak's lips as he stared at this new acolyte. Cocky, but very well. Krest had offered this lesson to all who would come. "You seem brazen enough to know the Code. Use that, defeat this other newcomer, and the lesson will continue." The acolyte scoffed, staring over at Lark with a disappointed gaze. "Is that all? Fine, I'll deal with this one, then I'll learn what ever it is you offer, if it's worth anything."

And with that the black robed acolyte would step out to face Lark, pulling free a simple red lightsaber and ignited it. "Give up now to save me some time, alright?"