Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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What Big Teeth You Have (The Blood Hound)

Zo kirs war a dzayari tuti zo kirs iw raria.*
*A master without an apprentice is a master of nothing.

Iridonia, it was a rough planet that had spawned a rough and prideful people. The weak could not survive under the blazing heat, the strong wind, and the unforgiving lakes of corrosive acids. As the single, red sun was setting and the twin moons rose over the purple horizon, Sith Lord, Darth Ophidia stood on the very brink of a a red stone canyon. The wind pulled on her form like a perpetual caress, dotted with rough grains of sand shaved off from the wrinkled stone.

Her dark robes were fitted to the environment, allowing cool air to be trapped in between the layers and granting her arms and legs free movement should she be forced to climb. The Rattataki's hands were clasped behind her back, one grey, one black; the back of her head featured dark grey lines like the roots of a tree grasping at her ashen skin. She wore no hood, but accepted the touch of the wind and the sun as she watched the darkening sky in meditation.

Darth Ophidia did not stand there for peace of mind. -Peace was a lie- She stood there in wait, focusing her power like a beacon; the final beacon on a long journey for one promising individual. She had not been the one to spot him, but she was at the end of the trail because she would test him.

Would he be worthy of his chance? Could he be Sith?

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 
He had finally arrived on the blistering hot planet where his destiny would be decided, although he wasn’t sure whether it was to be his death or his future he would find here. But he did not care for he felt that this was the place he was meant to be, the place where he would gain unfathomable amounts of power or meet a horrible and mediocre death.

The pilot he had payed to get him to the planet let him off at one of the cities below and as he disembarked he felt it, a power that he was drawn to as a moth to flame and he was sure where he needed to go. Rather than bothering to get hold of a speeder or other means of transport he checked that all equipment was securely fastened. Then he started to run, first on his hind legs approaching top speed he jumped, in mid-air leaning forward and adjusting his position and posture, landing now on all four he sprinted towards the gorgeous flame that was calling him.

A couple of hours into his journey he felt the presence coming closer, he was nearly there, nearly time to find out where his instincts had led him. Then he saw a figure at the edge of a canyon, he was sure that it was the person he had be looking for. He slowed down not even winded after the long run, although he was sweating his amount of fur in this climate was not the most comfortable. After slowing considerably, he stood up so he had his hands free and pulled the big vibro-staff from his back. Setting the blunt end in the somewhat soft earth he set himself on one knee roughly 10 meters away from the figure, bowed his head slightly and said “So you are the one that summoned me here. I sense that I have come here to learn and claim the same power you wield. I am here to face my destiny, whatever that may be”

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
"I am here to face my destiny, whatever that may be."

She inhaled, tasting the crisp, dry air. The index finger on her grey right hand tapped the ball of her palm as she counted the moments of silence. Then, with a measured and fluid motion, she turned to face the one she had called there. Her exhale came with words. Ophidia's eyes were closed when she turned, but then opened to reveal the burning irises of her wicked stare.

"To claim power and face your destiny."

The beacon of a presence changed, condensing like morning dew on leaves into a near-palpable pressure that chilled the air around them. She took a step in the direction of the canine; her footsteps made barely a sound and was deafened by the swish and flap of fabrics caught in the wind. She only took a few steps towards him, but the atmosphere of this ashen-skinned woman changed drastically in the course of it. She was death; the hand that rend life from flesh by the touch, and left naught but sorrow and ashes in her wake.

"Answer me this then, seeker: Who are you?"

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 
He felt the air and atmosphere change around him, he felt great power emanating from the figure that stood before him as she drew a few steps closer. As she asked the question he stood still as stone for a while thinking of how to answer as the wind tugged as his fur and the cloak of the women in front of him. He breathed slowly, and snarled slightly with frustration, trying to think of an answer.

“I am the one who hides in the shadows and strikes down those who believe they are safe. I am the one that destroys those fool enough to stand in my may to power and victory, and I WILL become one of those with the power and therefore the right to rule the galaxy!”

He now raised his head towards the women, to look straight into her eyes.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
"The strong rule, the weak comply; you understand the law."

Once more, she took a step in the direction of the canine manbeast the Sith had summoned. She accepted his stare and matched it, as her burning eyes met his and locked. She did not seem to blink, and she certainly did not waver in her stare. There was an uncanny stillness to her, like a predator waiting to strike at any moment. Her lips, painted black, pulled into a semblance of a wicked smile before they parted to speak once more.

"But can you enforce it?"

Her hands fell from their clasped position, near the paired lightsabres at her sides. However, rather than draw the hilts, she thrust her palms forward. The sand whipped up like a minute sandstorm packing a shockwave in its midst. As the sand flew up, Darth Ophidia crouched down and seemingly vanished from sight. An obscure technique known as the Cloak of Shadows - A valuable tool for any who would strike from the shadows.

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 
Blonvok didn’t flinch, blink or look away as he was stared down by the women, he was ready for the attack, ready for her to take forth her weapons and slice at him to test his skill.

His head cocked sideways at the question and before he could react, it was too late, for she had not gone for the weapons he was prepared for. He flew backwards as the sand hit him, he tumbled backward once before he managed to catch himself in a three-point landing. He growled and snarled loudly, then gripping his vibro-staff hard in his right hand, he charged. Due to the sand flying smacking him on his face and flying up his nose he could hardly see or smell anything. So he closed his eyes to protect him from the sand and let his instincts guide him, and so he started slicing with hard horizontal strikes where he believed the women to be.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
After pulling up her Cloak of Shadows, Ophidia watched for a second. Then as Blonvok charged through the wake of the sand, she jumped over him and landed near his original position. She made no sound, as it was cancelled out by her cloaking technique. As she landed, she let go of the cloaking, but dissolved her presence in the Force. The cloak drained one's body quickly, but the buried presence was far easier to uphold. To his instincts, her presence dispersed like smoke.

The Sith Lord plucked one of the two curved hilts from her hip and pointed it at the raging Shistavanen, but did not activate it. The sand settled around her feet, disturbed only by the tugging of the wind. Her clothes flapped, possibly giving off her position, but she did not care. In fact, she wanted him to see her. She wanted to see his reaction, to gauge his understanding of power. As a scout, he would surely understand the value of being able to disappear.

"Such fury, but no direction."

Her voice cut crisply through the wind. If he had not turned already, he would now. A wicked smile pulled on the corners of her black-painted lips.

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 
He was stunned when his blade did not find purchase, no sound, not a faint form among the grains of sand, not even the sound of a cloak was heard. Stopped the shortest of moments, letting his instincts guide his fury, however he did not get direction to his target. He swung around towards the voice, but he did not charge. He stopped his fury intensified thought process and thought properly for a moment. He never had dreamed to beat the person standing before him, but he thought himself powerful enough to at least put on some kind of fight. She had not even tried to attack him but he was sure that if she would have, he wouldn’t even have managed to blink before his life had been over.

He looked at the pale grinning face “in recognition of your immense power and ability to vanish before my eyes I find no purpose in fighting you, I would rather die in front of your feet proving my ability to learn, then to proof that I am fool enough to fight a fight I know I cannot win” He now stood ready with his blade pointed down, ready to fling sand towards her face and eyes, he admitted to himself that it probably wouldn’t work, but he wasn’t going to roll over, he would fight to his death if he had no other choice, but he believed it a waste a unnecessary.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
Half the smile faded as the lupine man declared he would not fight her any longer. Darth Ophidia had been quite curious to see what more he could conjure, how far he could go.

"How reasonable, almost tedious."

She lowered her lightsabre hilt as she surveyed him. Powerful build, ferocious nature, but clever enough to see what battles he could and could not win. She was far too accustomed to fools who would try to fight until she had to put them in a bacta-tank to get any use out of them. Xavka, Mythos, Zhi, all had been beaten to a pulp on their first encounter; it was tradition. However, this one was different in his approach.

"But I will not allow you to die, not yet. I have another vision for you hound."

Her eyes glanced down at the point of his weapon as it was touching the sand, and as her eyes flicked back up to face his, she took two steps in his direction.

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 
He had to admit to himself that he was nervous, he was sure that the standing on front of him could swat him out like a fly, so he had to choose his actions carefully, very carefully. He was relieved that she had lowered her weapon, however very aware that she didn’t put it away.

He stood entirely still as the observed him, waiting for her to speak once more. His lips twitched at the name hound, for he was sure that it was meant as an insult. He saw her eyes flicker to his weapon and back at him, unsure what she wanted to do, but he was not going to strike first, he wouldn’t be that stupid. She stepped towards him

“So tell me then, what vision is it you have for me?”

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
"I can show you."

Gold flicked over her knuckles, and a singular coin perched between her thumb and forefinger. The rays of the setting sun hit the dulled surface of the coin, making it appear almost like a small star clenched between her blackened fingertips. She lowered the hand and shifted the coin's position before flicking it at the Blood Hound with her thumb. It rotated through the air, begging to be caught. The coin's two sides each had an image. One was a gaping skull on a bed of bones; the other showed two serpents biting each-other's tails. It was a prize she had won on Rattataki when she was only a child. The gold had been on her person ever since, and it was saturated with her presence.

Upon touch and unless actively resisted, the coin conveyed exactly what she desired from him. Or rather, what she wished for him to think.

A lone figure atop a mountain of corpses, applauded by the roar of thunder. The vanquished bowing down to a procession of dark figures with hands dripping a trail of blood which transform into rose-petals behind the procession. A planet consumed by fire and turned to an ash before a hand of iron clutches its taloned fingers around it. The sound of hissing lightsabres colliding and screams of pain piercing the air amidst the scent of burning flesh. A banner raised against a sky on fire, saluted with a war-cry that chills the bone to its core.

[member="The Blood Hound"]
 

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