The Lion's Den

[Darth Bellum]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L6TycTt7DzY​

The Pit - As it was more eloquently known as, was large room divided into smaller sparring rings, its function serving as a training ground for Sith of all experience levels, though it was often a beating ground of Acolytes and Sith Knights alike. Each ring had a detachment of Akguza Guards, powerful droids that learned from their opponents as they fought and adapted their combat to more efficiently counter and react to them. The sounds of buzzing electrostaffs and breaking of bones could be heard as the droids who functioned as sparring partners mercilessly beat down their less experienced opponents. The Pit was a brutal test of strength and endurance for many, and those who came to it came fully well knowing that they will be broken and reformed into more effective fighters with each visit.

A Knight had raised his arms in victory after having successfully dismantled an Akguza Guard, however his victory was short lived as two Akguza Guards entered to engage him. The droids worked in unison, one moving to knock the Knight's saber to the side while the other attacked from the flank. Victory in battle was never assured, and one must be prepared to face an unknown number of enemies in a battle, like a hoarde. If they did not possess the strength of will and equivalent skill to handle that, they may as well be dead. There was no victory to celebrate without the eradication of the enemy and their surrender.

-​

​

Kor Vexen, the Lord General of the Dark Emperor's Legions observed the rings from above as he had his hands were held behind his back, looking upon the Acolytes and Knights with disdain despite his features being hidden behind his helmet. In one ring he watched as a Knight had his ribs caved in by an Akguza Guard using exclusively Teras Kasi, sending the Sith flying across the floor till he was a motionless slump on the ground that had to be dragged off to the medical bay. Vexen's gaze shifted as he watched an Acolyte continue to take beatings from an electro staff for failing to properly cover their exposed areas, punishing her severely until her body had seized up and eventually collapsed. Vexen was more or less unimpressed by all that he saw, wondering if perhaps the Sith had become lax with their training methods. He wondered if there was those with any potential among those who had come to The Pit.

-​

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

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[SIZE=9pt]False. Fake. Artificial. Metal. That was what these[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] things[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] were. They were not anything alive, they had no flesh or blood, they had no soul that harbored within their being. They had no connection to the living world of the Force and of life. They were falsified constructs made out of metal to mimic the appearance of sentience. Though, they could never, would never, be sentient or organic. They would never be alive. All they were were disgusting artificial creations meant to fulfill one purpose and one purpose alone, mimicry of life. It was a blatant insult to all living creatures, and a revolting insult at that. That was what the male Gurlanin thought of them. They were weak and worthless, a waste of time. Something organic and living would always beat something that was cold and metal. Even though the male had grown up on Qillura and just recently left his home, he knew this as fact. At least, he believed it to be a fact, as an undeniable principle and truth that was irrefutable. After all, he had the evidence right here in front of his body.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Kaine's orange eyes briefly glanced at the mangled form of the training droid that laid strewn across the ground. Wires were lying everywhere with broken pieces of metal acting as puzzle pieces that made up some larger, more complex, pattern. Said pattern, was, of course, the now disabled training droid. Its body was broken in so many places, whether that had been through brute force or the clean and precise blade of a lightsaber that could cut through metal at the flick of a wrist. What had previously been an opponent that could handle itself, now was a heap of broken metal and useless electrical systems...all of which had sparks flying off from them in the subtle flickers of blue and yellow light. The flickering lights danced across the cool and battle-damaged surface of the ground, making it appear as though it were some foreign light show meant to dazzle and entertain all types of people. It was mesmerizing. However, to the male Gurlanin, it remained completely ignored as he stood there in the middle of the empty pit, twirling the blade in hand between his fingers.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]There had been a time that Kaine had despised the use of lightsabers. He had thought previously that they were too lightweight and didn't hold enough leverage or force behind them to cause enough of an impact. With the help of his new friend, Marriskcal Lati, however, he had learned how to properly use a lightsaber and make the blade align with his body and spirit as though it were connected to him, as though it were just an extra appendage attached to his body from which he could cause harm to others.[/SIZE]

Kaine hadn't been paying attention to behind him when the attack had come. In an instant, a cold metal arm hooked itself around the male's neck, the elbow slotting below his chin as the forearm slotted to the robot's left shoulder. He was being choked. The Gurlanin's hands both shot out up towards his assailant's arm and tried to find grip around the smooth metal arm. But it was too slippery and his movement was beginning to slow and grow sluggish as the breath was chocked out of him. The man's lungs felt heavy and heated in his chest as his remaining air supply began to slowly run out. O'Doran's eyes frantically looked around, trying to find some way to get an advantage...which was when he saw the droid approaching with an electro staff.

Breathe Kaine, breathe. Remember what Marrk told you. Breathe. Think. Fight.

As the droid approached Kaine, it sent it's electro staff toward's Kaines abdomen, connecting in a flash of blue light with the sizzling of flesh under it. As Kaine released a groan of pain, both his hands finally clasped around the droid's arm choking him and he used all of his strength to pull the droid's up and over his shoulders towards the one with the electro-staff. Which resulted in both droids falling to the ground in a heap of metal. Leaning over, Kaine clasped the cool metal cylinder from the ground and turned it's ignition on, making a red blade flash out from the metal cylinder. A red blade, which struck into both of the droids that lie atop of each other, disabling them.

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| [member="Kor Vexen"] |

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen stood atop a floating balcony that hovered above the training space, two Akguza guards standing behind him like statues as he had his hands held behind him. His gaze continued to move from one Sith to the next. Some fighters seemed to be too focused on what they had in their minds, filling it with unnecessary clutter and clouding their vision. One error in judgment, a half second of unfocus was all it took to lead to a swift and painful death. They had to rely on their raw instincts and the guidance of the Dark Side in order to achieve victory; anything less would leave much to be desired. And what

Vexen continued to look on with disdain upon the acolytes and knights that fought in the Pit. Each blow suffered from the droids served as a reminder that they lacked foresight or proper action in battle, both which would be important as any injury sustained was the equivalent to a grievous wound and the quickest way to death. Every lunge or swipe of the electrostaffs served as a painful reminder of what would happen if that weapon had been a lightsaber, and Vexen made this known as his voice echoed over loudspeakers as he taunted and berated the young Sith whom he all saw as children in comparison to him. They must learn to not only control and focus their emotions but to also have the skill to effectively wield and direct them in combat. Such was the way of the Sith that made them stronger than Jedi, and more relentless in assaulting their enemies.

Pathetic and weak...Every blow you suffer is a stain upon your honor and reputation as Sith of the Sith Empire. Wounds are marks of shame that you will bear, and unlike these droids, your opponents will not always be so kind as to let you live. Your opponents may be droids, but their tactics are all learned from Sith before you. Prove your worth and rise to surpass them all.

Though his brief speech was heard and directed to all, Vexen's gaze was focused upon one individual; a Gurlanin. Vexen sensed many emotions in the Pit; grief, pain, rage, anguish, but something seemed to have piqued the attention of the Sith General, a familiar feeling of both arrogance and pride. This drew some interest for him as he patched himself directly into one the droids in Kaine's ring after he had observed the battle between the Gurlanin and two Akguza Guards. One of the droids seemed to flare to life, its once lifeless body seeming to reanimate as it spoke in a vocoded voice, taunting the young Gurlanin to coax a reaction out of him.

You think yourself as above this do you? That these metal hosts are not worth your time? Many a Jedi and Sith, all far more formidable than you have been slain by mere machines boy, and you consider yourself to be superior to them as you are now? How laughable indeed. You are inferior...

Contrary to what Kaine believed was enough to disable the droid was not enough. As it spoke, a metal hand reached out and clamped around Kaine's ankle with an ironclad grip, locking it like a shackle. While it was no offensive or retaliatory gesture by any measure, it served to Kaine as a reminder that the fight only ended when he had completely annihilated his opponents and dominated the field. Or would he allow himself to be berated and taunted as an inferior second-rate Sith after only having barely overcome his opponents?

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

Kaine's ears chose to ignore the sound of a metallic voice speaking from above. He had spent such a short time in the Galaxy, and yet, he had already grown bored with the grand standings of the Sith. The male Gurlanin had begun to notice a trend among the Sith of Darth Carnifex's Empire, they tended to grandstand and think more of themselves than others, believing that they were above everything else because they were Sith, because they had the force. These were all the perspective from an outsider who had come from a world where there was no technology, no grandstanding, no speeches, no usage of the Force. The contrast of such things to the male only made him realize how distanced he was from the Galaxy and all oft's social norms and people. He would never be able to hope to become someone in this Galaxy like those of past generations who had lived in the Galaxy all of there lives. And he did not want to be like one of those individuals. There was no need for him to bring himself down to a lower level than himself to meet the standards of others. Others who's tendencies were xenophobic and uncaring of outsiders, only self-centered in scope.

The male Gurlanin's orange eyes glanced downwards curiously once he had felt something cold and hard grasp around his left ankle. He was met with the visage of one of the droids that he had supposed that he had killed, it's hand clenched around his ankle like it were some type of vice keeping him in place, a chain. Kaine's first reaction to the droid still being operational was to kill it. He wasn't one to ask the 'who' and the 'why' questions, he was one who confronted obstacles with physical strength and overwhelming physicality alone. That was how he handled walls that had been put up in his life, it would always be how he would deal with such issues. He had always done so, and would always do so. There wasn't any need to conform to the tedious teachings of the Sith. Though if they brought the praise and recognition of the Sith Emperor, Carnifex, he would consider such things of course.

The droid's speech only served to infuriate the male. The droid knew not of who he was and what he had done and what he could do. All it was, was a metal shell constructed out of abandon of curiosity and scientific advancement. Words that normally wouldn't hurt Kaine, stung at him fiercely. In response, O'Doran knelt down close to the droid's helm, a hand going to either side of the droid's head before twisting and pulling. His body weight which was exerted through his grip and physical strength helped the male to wretch the droid's head from it's neck with great effort, of course. He then pulled the cold fingers from his ankle, dropping the now lifeless and inoperable droid's head from his grasp, it's metal shell clanking against the ground.

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| [member="Kor Vexen"] |
​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen eyed the Gurlanin, observing his actions and reaching out with the Force to sense the young man's emotions. Intriguing to Vexen he was, but he was rough around the edges and in need of refinement. His interest had been piqued enough for him to make his decision. Vexen's hands would unclasp from behind his back as the hovering platform he stood on drifted down to the Pit's arenas. By the time it arrived, Kaine would have dismantled the droid and freed himself from it. the platform would hover next to the edge of Kaine's as one side of it opened and extended a small ramp from which Vexen would step into the ring. As he approached the male Gurlanin, the platform would retreat away, Vexen's full armored form towering over Kaine as he looked down upon him, both literally and figuratively. A young Sith Knight with arrogance and pride standing before a Sith Lord with experience and ferocity unmatched.

Vexen would eye the Gurlanin up and down briefly, his masked features giving no indication of what he felt, though the vocoded words that came soon after spoke in condescending tones, " You are far more easier to provoke than I imagined. Your emotions are simple to read, and any opponent, Sith or Jedi alike would have no problem reading you like an open book. One would expect a Sith of your standing to be more refined and composed, but I suppose the standard for those who achieve the rank of Knight have fallen considerably to allow for someone like you to become one. " Vexen's words aimed to prod and provoke the Gurlanin and see what he was truly made of. He would begin to circle Kaine, curious how he would react; would he stand there and allow the Sith Lord to belittle him or would he lash out in defiance?

Vexen would continue to goad Kaine, " You could be so much more and achieve greater heights, but you shackle yourself to your own arrogance and believing you are above the tenets of the Sith. All that you have accomplished before, everything you have learned prior to joining the Brotherhood...Mean nothing, just like you, an inferior boy that has yet to learn what true strength is. Your place is earned through your actions once you become a Sith, a constant struggle for power to become stronger than your peers. And here you stand, a mere mutt compared to your brothers in arms. You have the potential to be something greater, but as you are now, you are just an inferior beast. "

Vexen would dismissively wave his hand, the Force reaching out as it moved like the wind to lift the destroyed bits of droids off the ground and toss them into the infinite chasm below, clearing the ring as he lowered his hand and paused in circling Kaine, turning to face him as he held his arms out, as if openly inviting the Gurlanin to do his worst while simultaneously taunting him into an attack.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

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Kaine turned in place on the battle platform, his bare feet connecting with the already cold metal of the platform though he paid the chill that ran up his spine no mind. He was distracted with something else, something else entirely. The soft buzz which emitted from his crimson lightsword melted into the sounds of everything else in the room, screams of pain, banging of metal, dripping of motor oil and dripping of blood. The buzz was almost nonexistent now as the male Gurlanin focused his attention and his mind onto something else, more specifically, someone else. His neck craned upwards, allowing for his predatory orange eyes to fixate themselves upon a large figure of metal and fabric who was descending towards him atop of some strange levitating platform of 'arcane' power. O'Doran didn't know how such a device worked, nor did he care enough to think about it, so he used the justification of 'arcane power' for how it could levitate so easily. Then there was the large metal figure who was rapidly approaching him and -- who now disembarked their levitation platform and onto the same platform as Kaine himself. Immediately, the male's instincts took over and he backed a few steps away from the armored male, keeping his head held high with a slight upturning of his lips...barring sharp canine teeth. It wasn't backing off if he did that his head would be bowed in defeat. He kept his head held high as a 'Get back or Else' warning to the large armored form...though he doubted this...thing, knew of the traditions of Gurlanins, both societally and ritualistically.

The words bit at Kaine's pride and delved into his own hate of xenophobes, provoking a response from the emotional centers of his brain. Bristling anger flushed through the male's blood and bones and his eyes narrowed as he watched the metal figure taunt him and goad him into an attack. And yet, he did nothing. He knew better than to challenge a Sith who was higher in strength and overall power than himself, at least, that was the feigned excuse he used. In reality, he didn't want to disappoint Carnifex at his lack of control. He looked up to the man after all and he wouldn't want to make such a man disappointed and angry with him, especially considering that he was the Emperor of this vast, albeit technology-dependent Empire.

Then the large man of metal began to speak once more to O'Doran. Only this time, his words got the better of him. The man claimed that Kaine was a "mutt" and an "inferior beast." At the man's words, Kaine couldn't control himself...and he lashed out towards the armored figure, swinging his crimson blade in a left-to-right arc towards the figure of metal.

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| [member="Kor Vexen"] |

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen watched the young Sith's body language as he approached. It was amusing to an extent how the Gurlanin seemed to cower, but Vexen saw the fire in the young Sith's eyes; a look of defiance that Vexen knew all too well and has seen many times over his years of existence. It was a particular spark in an individual that Vexen acknowledged. However, this individual's hubris was something that would be needed to be broken down a few notches. As Vexen spoke down upon Kaine, he watched and observed with intense scrutiny. The individual was cautious and weary at first, but at his derogatory words, became angered and easily baited into an attack despite their previous demeanor. Foolish of the young Gurlanin to engage someone clearly stronger than them without attempting to probe defenses, but commendable that despite the odds they were willing to fight. Use of anger was always a Sith's ally as it made them stronger and empowered them in battle. It was why they were feared across the galaxy at large due to their cunning and ferocity in battle.

Vexen watched as Kaine made the first strike, lashing out with their saber at him. Vexen did not draw his own weapon; not yet at least. Instead, he raised his right arm up and reached out to grab the blade of the saber and halt its swing. Due to the micronized Phrik integrated into his gauntlets, the saber blade could not cut through and allowed Vexen to instead grip the end of the blade like he was holding a stick being swung at him. The intense heat from the blade still managed to bleed through as the underlying layer of thermal gel bubbled from the heat. It was a minor discomfort to Vexen to be holding a saber blade for long, but he did so long enough to let the Gurlanin know that his defense was not something to be trifled with, nor was its full potential even scratched as he simply swatted the saber blade away from him.

Vexen would slip one arm behind him, another taunt that the Gurlanin was not worth being taken seriously and instead given a handicap. How then would the young Gurlanin react from here on, knowing that his opponent had considerable defensive capabilities yet to be seen and taunted further? Would they take the time to properly analyze their opponent and search for a weakness or would they instead let their emotions run rampant and attempt to annihilate their enemy with sheer fury and strength alone? It always entertained Vexen to see what a young Sith would become and how best to utilize their attributes. Vexen cold, vocoded voice would speak out once more, " Come then little one. Show me that you are worthy of the title you attempt to claim. " Vexen's right arm seemed to glow a brilliant purple as electrical energy coursed through it. It was clear that any physical contact with it would be as painful, if not significantly more than the shockstaffs used by the droids prior.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

Kaine had expected for the lightsaber which he held aloft in hand to strike against the metal figure, he expected the sound of sizzling metal and then burning flesh to enter the air and his ears. And yet, none of those expectations happened. At first, the male Gurlanin believed that he had done something wrong when swinging the weapon. Perhaps the man had missed? Though, he couldn't have. He knew he couldn't have. He was a fighter, a hunter, a warrior...he didn't miss and he didn't misstrike by happenchance. No, something was wrong. O'Doran's orange eyes snapped upwards towards the looming metal figure, his hands following the trail of the man's metallic arms and to the sizzling sound of the plasma blade which emitted from the metal hilt in hand. The blade of the lightsword, however, was stopped in place. It had been stopped in place by the hand of whomever this man, this thing was. The red blade shone out of the cold and clenched grip of the figure's, offering a stark contrast between the plasmatic red of the blade and the monotony of grey's and silver's of the interlocking metal plates which made up the gauntlets of the metal behemoth of a creature.

And then the man of metal began to berate him mentally once more, playing mind games as Kaine had assumed was typical of the man. He brought an arm behind him, offering the Gurlanin an easy shot at him whilst mocking him with his body language and the purposeful handicap to make O'Doran feel unworthy. Which, of course, he did. Though, instead of dwelling on such things, Kaine lashed out again, swinging the blade towards the armored figure, his eyes following the edge of his blade...completely ignoring the purple light which was emitted from the metal man's hand.

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| [member="Kor Vexen"] |​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen's expression remained stoic from underneath his helmet as he looked down upon O'Doran. The sound of electricity crackling and the smell of burning ozone filled the air. Several Acolytes and Knights in nearby rings even paused from their sessions to look at the individual who challenged a Lord of the Sith, and the Lord General that commanded some of the Empire's most fearsome armies. These observers would be promptly struck down by the Akguza Guards they were training against, a harsh lesson where even a brief moment of taking their eyes off their opponent could result in death as they were repeatedly shocked.

Vexen watched O'Doran as he was momentarily confused for the briefest of moments when he discovered that his weapon did not simply cut his hand off like it normally would have. During more archaic times, this would have happened and Vexen would be short a hand and at a severe disadvantage. But times changed, technology advanced and like Vexen in his youth, he evolved to adapt and embrace it rather than toss aside a potential asset or advantage. If one failed to overcome and adapt, they would be discarded and left to die. Much like Vexen over his many, many years of existence, if he failed to change, he would be killed; if he overcame and adapt, he only grew stronger.

Arcs of purple lightning arc'd from his arm along the ground as he held his arm to the side. As O'Doran swung his lightsaber, Vexen took a step back, the tip of the blade swinging at empty air. Vexen would turn his body as he kept his gaze focused on O'Doran, not making any attempt to strike back yet. He wanted to see what kind of ferocity Kaine would throw at him since it didn't seem that he was trying to assess the situation and how he could exploit a gap in his defenses. Or perhaps he was, in which Vexen would welcome an injury upon himself. A scar inflicted by an individual that was finally worthy of his respect. A brief memory of a Jedi in Vexen's past would flash into his mind, the first Jedi that had managed to permanently wound him. The scar upon his neck still remained to this day after the hundreds of years since that defeat.

Vexen would simply sidestep, take a step back and turn his body to avoid the swings of O'Doran, whilst speaking, " Your attacks are too simple. Wildly swinging like a savage might overwhelm a weaker opponent, but how do you intend to fight a master with such simple attacks? Use the unorthodox. " Vexen would make a simple flick of his fingers. While it didn't seem like much as he was moving, it was a gesture as he reached out with the force. A subtle rumble could be felt underfoot as some stone tiles would begin to rise off the arena floor behind Kaine, beginning to rotate and spin before launching themselves at the Sith Knight.

​

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

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The triumphant grin that had stretched across Kaine's mouth was brief. It was a brief smile, a brief wonder at possible victory no matter how small. And as quick as the triumphant and grinning hope of victory had reached the male's lips, it soon became dissipated as easily as a light among a thick blizzard which ate up anything that came within its path. Instead of continuing his assault, the Gurlanin opted to stand there, his orange eyes following the trail that the armored man left in his wake. As his pupils followed the man, they caught within their peripheral vision sight of purple lightning that arced across the stone surface of the platform the pair were on before quickly dissipating away into nothingness. At the sight of such a thing, Kaine's eyes jumped towards the armored figure once more, his body shifting upwards to his full height. His right foot took a tentative, almost hesitant step backward, bending at the front and raising the heel of his right foot in the air. He didn't move backward fully, yet. He kept himself in a ready position to strike at the man encase he tried attacking him in retaliation for O'Doran's previous failed attacks and swings.

Kaine did something unexpected. He analyzed the situation, he stood there and tried to think of what to do next, something which was unlike him. On Qiilura, it was a kill-or-be-killed world, there was no luxury of being able to think and comprehend and adapt. You had to charge headfirst into things, at least, that's what most Gurlanin's did. Such as Kaine. But now, he was going against his nature to try and do something new, to try and adapt. As his eyes stared intently towards the metal figure, his feet began to move slowly, bringing him up to a slow walk, back and forth, back and forth. He stopped suddenly in place, the sound of stone sliding against stone hitting his ears. Almost immediately, he turned in place only to be met with an array of flying stone tiles going towards him. In response, the male brought the saber up in front of his face, shielding him from the incoming stone tiles whilst allowing the other stone tiles to fly towards the armored male.

O'Doran spun in place, his eyes locking back onto the armored male. And then, he did something unexpected that he swore he would never do, he utilized the force in his left hand to channel a cone of the force...sending it flying towards the armored figure right behind the stone tiles...

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[member="Kor Vexen"]

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen continued to observe O'Doran's movements as the Gurlanin attempted to pose a challenge to the Sith Lord. Vexen's armor would prove to be superior in defense compared to the lightsaber of O'Doran. When Kaine halted his assault and kept his distance as Vexen had reached out with the Force to use the floor tiles as weapons. The Anzat would watch as the Gurlanin seemed to be observing the situation. Good. He was learning which showed he was capable of adapting rather than being as stubborn and dumb as the stone they stood on. Vexen would give an imperceptible nod of his head as electricity continued to arc out from his arm, his posture retaining a high posture as he looked down at O'Doran.

As Kaine anticipated the stone tiles coming at him from behind and dealt with a few while evading the rest, Vexen now watched as whatever missed the young man and were now flying at him instead. Vexen was not at all phased or interested as his gaze seemed more focused on O'Doran. The Sith Lord would see O'Doran wind up as he readied a Force blast and sent it flying at Vexen soon after the tiles.

Vexen would slide one foot partially back as the tiles flew at him. Rather than waste time and energy to use the Force to throw aside the tiles, he instead braced with a widened stance, raising his arm up in front of his head. A few tiles would fly past him from inertia alone, while others shattered against his armor. As the hail of tiles passed by Vexen would lower his arm as he extended it towards Kaine. It was just mere moments before the Force blast Kaine would impact Vexen. Vexen would exert his control over the Force in a forward facing barrier that would bear the brunt of the impact. Stone would fracture and crack as Vexen's armored boots crushed the stone tiles beneath him and pushed him back a few inches.

Vexen would lower his arm as he held it to his side as he shifted his stance and stood back to full height. Vexen would make a dismissive wave gesture with his arm as the electricity that was coursing through it dissipated. With his free hand, he would reach down to his belt as his fingers curled around the hilt of his own personal saber, Devourers Maw. He would hold the saber in front of him in one hand as he activated it, a deep crimson blade flashing into existence, offering a duelist salute before holding the saber out towards O'Doran.

As soon as the saber was activated, there would be an immediate shift in the atmosphere, an aura that seemed to permeate and enhance the flow of Dark Side energy radiating outwards with Vexen at its center. At the same time, it seemed to be reaching out to every living being in the Pit across all the rings. To those who were not particularly paying attention to it, they would not notice that this aura it emanated was slowly drawing their body's strength by filling them with a gnawing hunger. With the activation of this saber, it seemed Vexen was finally ready to put Kaine to the test and push his limits. How would the young Gurlanin Sith Knight fare against the ancient Anzat Sith Lord? It would likely be a harsh and painful lesson.

" Come boy...Show me your worth if you possess any at all. "​

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

Kaine's almost luminescent orange eyes angled sharply inwards at seeing the movement of the large armored individual, he had been moved by his accidental force blast, something which spoke wonders to the male gurlanin. Whereas previously all of his physical attacks and all of his strength had fell on death ears in the void of air or stroke harmlessly against the man's armor, now something happened. Where strength and power had failed him, the force had offered the man a glimmer of treacherous hope. He wasn't supposed to use the force, it had been ingrained into him from a young age that the force was a god's tool and that to use it was both an insult to the god's and the gurlanins. It served as an outsiders tool, and the gurlanin people had already suffered enough from outsiders to trust anything that they would say and do. And yet now, O'Doran had first hand witnessed the power of the force and wanted to feel it course through his veins once more despite how wrong it felt.

Throughout the ordeal that the male gurlanin had undergone to make the armored man react to what he was doing, he had begun to notice something about him. He was always using a form of force lightning that wrought out from his open palm and zapped harmlessly against the stone tiles of the training arena. At first, he had taken no notice of such a thing. However now that the man had dissipated and relinquished such a thing from his palm, Kaine could tell that something had changed with the man's demeanor. The lightning had been acting as bait would be to a fish, enticing the fish to bite it only to be pulled away seconds later. He was not a fish, no, he was a predator, a wolf, a gurlanin...he would not fall for such travesties and mimicry of nature. He was better than that, he was better than all of the illusions and projections that the force could wrought. At least, that was what Kaine told himself.

As soon as the armored male had pulled forth his saber, a sense of dread washed over the gurlanin which stood across from him, likewise with a saber in hand. He didn't know from whence it came, though all evidence pointed towards this armored titan of a man, a human, whatever it is that he was, Kaine knew not. However, what he did now was that the figure was taking him seriously now, something which brought a sly and subtle grin to the edges of O'Doran's lips, upturning them sneakily as he watched the armored man.

At hearing the man's words, Kaine slowly approached the armored man, holding his crimson saber aloft, the hilt clenched within the grasp of his two hands and he swung towards the man's mid-torso...

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| [member="Kor Vexen"]​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Hunger. That was the raw instinct that began to course through Vexen's conscious as soon as he had activated his lightsaber. It was its own living creature in and of itself, possessing the desire to consume the life force of anyone around it and anyone it inflicted injuries to. The crimson blade thrummed with energy as if eager for a meal, a starved beast ready to lash out and bite at anything that came near it. The longer it was active the more it drained. But the blade was a fickle creature, needing its hunger sated by the wounds of its foes and those around him, lest the beast bite back at the hand that feeds and start draining Vexen's own life energy and memories. Luckily Vexen had enough in his Sea of Memories for the blade to feed off of for the saber to feed off of. It was a symbiotic parasitic relationship in that sense, the blade alleviating the burden of antiquated or useless memories to feed off of while Vexen reaped the benefits of the blade by providing it bodies. This male Gurlanin would be no different than a meal.

Sith Acolytes and Knights continued to feel their life force drain from their bodies, causing those who had been engaged in combat against the Akguza guard droids soon falling from the lack of energy or ability to stand. They would be summarily be beaten unconscious by the droids till they were more or less beaten within an inch of their life and dragged out, having the shame of being defeated left to grow and fester like an infected wound. Their pain and defeat would only drive them to become stronger, or they would be culled for being weak. The Pit served as a place to forge formidable Sith warriors, to overcome adversity and leave behind a refined weapon, meant to be unleashed upon the galaxy and the enemies of their Empire. A weak tool had no place with them, nor would they be of any use to the Empire; one of the few reasons Vexen frequented the Pit, to see if there were any potential prospects.

O'Doran would begin to move at Vexen, swinging their saber at his torso with two hands. Vexen would step forward to meet him as he raised his own saber. The tip of it dragged along the ground, cutting through stone as Vexen swung his saber with a single hand. Their blades would clash and the instant that they made contact, Vexen knew that O'Doran possessed a fair amount of raw strength. However, Vexen was equally if not more physically powerful, not only just from his racial traits as an Anzati, but also from the years of training to train his body and the assistance of his armor. These factors allowed Vexen to stagnate the momentum of O'Doran's attack with a single hand. Vexen would hold his blade for a few moments, giving the Gurlanin time to think over the foolishness of the move he had just made.

The Gurlanin knew that Vexen was capable of stopping the blade of a lightsaber with simply his armor, yet still chose to take a direct and frontal approach at Vexen. All he had to do was hold his saber at bay while he drove his own saber right into the man's chest. Would he realize that Vexen could have killed him based on that opening attack alone? Maybe. Or perhaps he was simply too simple minded that he did not take these into consideration. Vexen would deflect O'Doran's lightsaber off to the side to force the Gurlanin on the defensive as the momentum of his strike allowed him to raise his saber above his head to bring it down like the blade of a guillotine with a devastating overhead strike as a counter.

​

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

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To believe in one's own strength was something that Kaine had always done. He had survived and fought for years on the primitive world of Qiilura. There were no fancy medical practices, no stimulants to increase muscle mass ten-fold, all there was on the planet was the need to survive among a rural and unforgiving, tribal society. Hunting both in his human form and his wolf form, although highly different from one another, still tested the male gurlanin constantly when he was home. Tools and weapons were of no use if one did not even have strength to defend themselves when unarmed. He was not one such indiviudal, he was strong and physically capable on his own accord. Though he wasn't as strong as his father, O'Doran knew it would all come in time. After all, he had inherited his height from his father...it would only be a matter of time for his muscular growth to catch up to where his physical power was overwhelming. For now, he remained a lean figure of power...all in due time.

This man, this armored foe, would just be another person for Kaine to battle against and win against. He had no doubt.

Despite how easily the armored figure was able to withstand Kaine's own power, he didn't view him weak, no, never. At first he had, yes, because of the hulking metal mass he wore. Though, now he understood more-so what the offender's armor acted as. It acted as a conduit to help channel his strength and power, something that both intrigued him and worried him some. When his blade had been parried, he hadn't seen the opening that would have killed him. He was a poor practitioner in bladed weapons and knew little of their make, craft, and handling...much the same with lightsabers, if not more so. The only way he would know of such things and adapt to such things was injury to himself.

After all, injury was the best teacher. To feel pain wasn't a curse, it was a blessing...to feel pain allowed for the development of one's self to adapt and to evolve into a stronger being, a stronger creature.

As soon as his blade was deflected to the side, the gurlanin knew of what was coming. Despite his naivety and foolishness to bladed combat, he knew when an opponent was trying to throw another off guard to deliver a devastating blow. Instead of remaining in place to block and parry the blow, he rolled to the larger man's left, away from the lightsaber which would swing into nothingness. And then quickly he released his left hand from the hilt of his saber, keeping his right hand clenched around it and swung at the back of the man's left kneecap, hoping to strike a blow to cripple his opponent.

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

| [member="Kor Vexen"]​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen's swing would slice through air as O'Doran had evaded off to the side and dodged instead of standing his ground and blocking. Overhead blocks were far too easily exploitable and a particular favorite move if his overhead swings were blocked were simply to deactivate his saber and pass right through their guard before reigniting it when the hilt had passed the enemy's saber. Battle wasn't about honor or etiquette, it was about surviving and not dying, even if it meant using underhanded tactics in battle. In the end honor, glory, wealth were all meaningless if one did not live long enough to squander them in peace. Life was the only commodity worth holding any value, and something Vexen relished in relieving others of. O'Doran had made a wise decision on instinct, something that Vexen was respecting as it presented itself to him.

As O'Doran rolled off to the side, Vexen watched as the Sith Knight took a swing at Vexen's leg. Smart and observant; O'Doran was probing for likely areas of weakness, or just letting instinct take over. Joints were often the weakest points in any set of armor, especially one designed to defend against lightsabers. He was being wise in not taking a more powerful opponent head on. Vexen would quickly twist his wrist as he reached out with the Force. His offhand saber would fly out from his belt and activated as he intercepted the Gurlanin's blade. Vexen's main saber would brush against Kain's shoulder. Had he put more force behind the retaliatory swing, he might have cleaved O'Doran in two, but instead left the man with a scar as he shifted his wrist as the blade moved up and to the opposite side at his neck where Vexen would hold him there at his mercy.

Vexen would lift up his left leg, berating the young Sith as he did so, " There is no honor in battle... " A swift kick was shot out as Vexen's armored boot connected with O'Doran's stomach sending him a few meters away " No glory in death... " The armored Sith Lord turned to O'Doran with his sabers at his side, deactivating them as the aura around him slowly draining life in the Pit dissipated, " There is only survival of the strongest... Do what you must to survive, to overcome, to annihilate any who stand against you. It doesn't matter who you were or the legacy you leave behind. It is about what you do to live on. " Vexen would look down at him, his expressionless mask giving nothing away as he stared in silence for a moment, " You have potential, but as you are now, you are still little more than a somewhat useless tool. You must be cunning and deceptive to survive amongst the Sith. " Vexen's appetite had been partially piqued, but it was not time. Like fruit, O'Doran was not yet ripe to be consumed, though the day that he did become so, it would be a wonderful meal for the Anzati.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

Despite what little Kaine knew of actual combat that didn't involve one's hands, he still knew the fundamentals and intricacies of such things. He knew the weak points and how to cripple his opponents relatively easy, you would learn such things from ritual combat. This type of combat, this...dance of swords, dance of lights so to speak, was much the same. But it held with it none of the honor, none of the grandiose. Which was something the male gurlanin was glad for. He was a man of religion, a man of rituals, a man of worship. However, what O'Doran was not was a man of honor. He pretended and falsified himself as a gurlanin filled with honor who would fight honorably till the end, though that was all a facade. In truth, he could care less about honor, and why should he? On Qiilura with 'rival' tribes breathing down your back, there was no place for honor. The only ones who preached that honor and glory and chivalry should be put on a pedestal were the elders.

The same elders who exiled him. The old bastards.

Which was why when his attack failed and he was unceremoniously kicked across the platform, he did not fret and complain about how unhonorable it was. He did not. Despite his growing hatred for the man because of his apparent xenophobia, he had been bested. And he respected that. It was the unspoken code of the warrior, to respect those who bested you and to grow from those failures and defeat those that defeated you when you were ready. He hadn't noticed the burn that streaked across his shoulder, and he only not noticed it when the armored figure stopped speaking. He ignored the pain and the burning, only wincing slightly when his nerves exploded in a heated pain at the final realization of the attack on his person.

The armored man across from him spoke truth, truth that was merely given a nod by the male gurlanin because he knew not hot to respond. His only was of responding was simple, a reminder, a piece of newfound history to add to a list of individuals he would need to best one day.

"Your name, what of it?"

[SIZE=10.5pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

​

| [member="Kor Vexen"] |​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Vexen's sabers would return to the magnetic storage plates at his side as he shifted his footing, taking a more casual posture as he turned to face the man. In some aspects, O'Doran reminded Vexen of himself, when he was much younger and feral. There was a time where the two Sith would have more or less been mirrored versions of one another. Species, position, and experience aside, they were more alike than they were different, and it was something that Vexen saw potential in. With the right focus and training, O'Doran may soon one day be a worthy opponent for his enemies, and by extension, worthy prey for the Anzati General. As it stood now, the Gurlanin was like an unripe fruit, not quite mature enough for consumption, but potential to bear the sweetest fruit with time. The one thing that Vexen craved above all else, was an opponent strong enough to whet his appetite, to further evolve him in his extended life to remain strong and an apex predator. The weak had no place in Vexen's future, and he would ensure measures be taken to cull the weak and keep the strong sharp.

The Anzati would look at Kaine who was sprawled on the ground. Vexen was usually a good judge of character, given his centuries of existence and countless individuals he's encountered. Even as O'Doran was staving off the pain and shock for as long as he could, there was still that spark of defiance in their eyes. This encounter would be a good launch point for the young Sith. The Gurlanin would eventually ask a simple question - his name. Though Vexen did possess a Sith title, being known as Darth Sacrorum, the Lord of Assimilation, it was a name and title he did not give much thought to, and has never become a core part of his identity. When Vexen more or less became a Sith, he did not particularly adhere to their ideals in the way others would, only really having taken the title of Sith as an excuse to hunt Jedi to feed off of. Even now, the Sith Empire was growing idle, and the so-called peace that was following was more or less an annoyance to the Anzati.

His vocoded voice would be heard as he finally spoke, " Kor Vexen...Remember it as the name of someone you should one day surpass...Or fall to. It matters not to me, what fate befalls you. " The Anzati would not grace the Gurlanin with the same question. He did not care who the man was, nor did he ever feel compelled to know the names of any of his opponents unless they were worthy of gaining his respect. Vexen continued to stare at O'Doran, wondering what the future held for the man, and whether or not they would follow a similar path that he did.

​

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]​