Acc Training Battle
Kat tugged her auburn hair back in a ponytail – a brief thought about staying cool in this humid place. Neither of the two fighters had arrived yet, but that just gave Kat a bit more time to explore. This was the only real clearing in the Ptolomea jungle area… the rest was wrapped in a network of vines and trees, roots and dense foliage. It would be easy to lose someone in here – if it weren’t for the chain link fence that surrounded the arena – but that was a bit in the distance, and still left plenty of room for maneuvering.
Yzarc stepped into the clearing, his blue Mohawk making a flashing statement. This Dark Jedi Knight didn’t need an introduction. His lightsaber was on his hip at the ready. Kat nodded her head at the fighter, meeting the ice of his eyes with a smirk as she turned to the approaching figure.
As Braecen stepped from the shadows, her emerald eyes met his blue ones with a nod of recognition. On the Pontifex’s hip was a saber as well. Although he was slightly shorter than his opponent, he exuded a confident air – with a hint of cockiness.
Kat stepped into the middle of the arena, her whip loosely coiled in her hand. “Now that you are both here, we can begin. Each of you carries a lightsaber, and no other weapons were brought to this battle.”
She began to back out of the clearing with the parting words, “You may begin.”
With the trainer’s words still echoing in the clearing, Yzarc Rellik Kaeth pulled off his outer robes and let them fall to the ground. They sank down softly as the Neophyte detached his lightsaber from his belt. The Aedile looked up, to see what his former master was doing. Braecen Kaeth was already rushing at him, silver lightsaber glowing. Yzarc quickly activated his lightsaber. The Krath jumped up and attempted to bring his lightsaber down on the Dark Jedi Knight.
Yzarc brought the blue blade of his weapon upward, smashing it against its silver counterpart. Braecen used the momentum of himself and the Neophyte’s block to land behind the Obelisk. The former Consul rolled and jumped up to his feet. The shorter Kaeth turned and faced the taller one, raising his lightsaber. Yzarc turned around to face the patriarch of his family. He angled himself at his former master and raised his lightsaber.
Braecen again moved in on his former apprentice. The Sanguinist struck out at the Neophyte. Silver struck blue. An odd sound emanated from the two blades of light connecting. Yzarc pushed down on his blade, using his height, weight and strength as an advantage [PRW]. The Pontiflex started to bend his knees. As soon as Yzarc thought he had the upper hand, Braecen rolled and slashed at the Dark Jedi Knight.
The Neophyte wobbled oddly, caught off guard by the roll and subsequent attack. Yzarc caught his balance and checked to see what damage Braecen had done. The Krath didn’t get much of the Obelisk, just singed his robes. The Aedile turned toward his mentor.
Braecen smiled at his ex-pupil and said, mockingly, “You still have much to learn.”
Yzarc frowned and raised his lightsaber again.
Braecen spun his lightsaber three-hundred-and-sixty degrees in his hand, a long hum singing from his blade as it twirled through the air. vzzzzzm Calling upon the Dark Side, the Pontifex released the dam he had build between himself and the cold, frightening power of the Force. Revolted by the sickening power swimming throughout his gut, he pushed the power to his extremities as he began to spin identical webs over his forearms. Tenderly plucking a single thread of the Dark Side weave, the Force bonded with his muscles - infusing them with newfound tension [ES]. It all happened so quickly that only a single heartbeat had passed.
With the saber pinched between two fingers - his thumb and index - the remainder hung loosely, allowing for the blade to be spun in a multitude of directions. Planting his right foot against a clump of roots at the base of a tree, Braecen launched himself into a forward charge. As he neared his opponent, he began to zig-zag before falling upon the outer-ring of his foe's defenses. A circling whirlwind, the Pontifex's silver flame danced across the defenses of the Dark Knight as the blade struck from a multitude of angles at differing speeds. High. Low. Fast. Slow. The continuous, unending onslaught continued to plague Braecen's apprentice as his Master danced across the uneven terrain with nimble dexterity [FM4]. Yet, the Aedile defended the quick strikes with the steady-footed, staccato styled defense of the third form. With simple, precise motions - guided by the Force - Yzarc was able to intercept or evade the continual attack [AA].
The Krath launched himself into an aerial assault, crashing upon the inner-defenses of the Dark Knight. Using his momentum to temporarily drive the Aedile's own blade down towards his chest. The Journeyman's eyes temporarily widened before he drove his two-handed grip away from his body - overpowering his opponent. Acting on instinct, the Knight released his hold with his left hand and snatched the wrist of his foe. Momentarily surprised by the brash act, Braecen froze for but an instant. Yet, Yzarc had been tutored well, with the brief pause and such close proximity - and the element of surprise - he funneled the Dark Side into a cone before him, expanding as it stretched from his body. With the exertion of his physical might and will, he unleashed a torrent of telekinetic power [TES]. The effect was instantaneous as the power of the blow uprooted the Krath and slammed him against a nearby tree.
The ice-blue eyes of the Aedile dismissed the fallen saber, knowing his Master was unable to call it to his hand. Seeking the advantage, Yzarc rushed forward towards the fallen form of his mentor. In a two-handed grip, he raised the blade high over his right shoulder as his feet pounded across the rugged terrain.
The Coruscanti’s long legs kicked up dirt and dust as he ran towards his teacher, blue blade glowing, making his mohawk even more blue. The pure blue bar of light came crashing down to where the Pontiflex was. The Corellian had rolled out of the way, and was now pushing himself off the ground.
The Equite’s roll caught the Journeyman off guard and as he was still trying to comprehend how his mentor had gotten away, Braecen punched Yzarc in the back of the head. The blow did not hurt the Aedile, but it was unexpected, and he collapsed and shut his lightsaber, as a reaction. The Pontiflex used this advantage to run over towards his weapon’s hilt, lying in the dirt.
Yzarc was up, standing to his full height, by the time Braecen had reached the dirty hilt. Reaching down to pick it up, the Sanguinist immediately ignited it. The Neophyte followed suit. The Equite rolled and jumped high, over the Coruscanti’s midsection, before he lashed out with a few quick stabs and slices.
The Aedile parried the silver light with his blue one. Blade touched blade with a deafening growl from both. The two combatants ended in a saberlock. Yzarc had the upper hand, with his saber on top, enhancing his strength with the Force to push down extremely hard on Braecen’s blade [PRW]. Braecen faltered, again. However, the Sanguinist pulled back. The Neophyte was again, unsuspecting of the move, and his momentum carried his body to the floor. The Coruscanti rolled, but not before his mentor flicked his blade out.
Yzarc stood up; he could smell the disgusting smell of hair burning. Braecen had a smirk on his face. The Aedile knew what happened, but he reached up towards his hair anyway. He felt a cut, about halfway through, horizontally, in the middle of his mohawk. It was the size of a lightsaber blade. He angrily turned towards his master. “You’ll pay for that!” he spat out.
“You’re lucky, my apprentice, that it’s only your hair, and not your head,” Braecen retorted.
The gyroscopic pull of the white beam had been most unyielding to the Pontifex's touch as he had swept it through the hair of his former pupil. With the slightest alteration to his wrist, he had curved the blade high enough so that it would do no permanent damage to his foe. But the Corellian did not dismiss the superstitious thought that his blade had become fond of the taste of blood.
The combat had momentarily disengaged, but the brief respite did not last long as the two forms raced towards one another - covering the short distance in three mere strides. Fueled by the power of the Dark Side, the combatants moved with uncharacteristically deceptive haste. Their motions, rehearsed hundreds - nay thousands - of times in practices flowed from them with ease as their actions were guided, letting their true skill emanate in a raw display of aggression [AA]. Mere blurs to the common eye, the warriors exchanged the offensive several times as their blades worked through a vigorous design of strikes and parries, lunges and ripostes. The blades moving with such speed that they appeared as nothing more than blurs of white and blue - snaking through the sky.
Releasing his restraint, the Pontifex slipped to the right as he issued a basic, defensive block; deflecting the flight of his opponent's saber's arc enough so it would pass by harmlessly. Bending his knees to momentarily generate offensive power, he exploded into a designed three-strike offensive. The silver shaft of molten power swept low at the Aedile's feet before bouncing off the stingy, defensive stroke of the azure blade. Redirecting the momentum, the Krath spun the blade towards the man's head before, once again, rebounding off his foe's defense. A quick roll of the wrist brought the blade down, and under, his opponent's defense towards an exposed right flank. Yet, before Braecen could twist the blade to strike, he was forced to break off his offensive and fall into the staccato strikes of a well-positioned defense [FM3].
His arms groaned under the power of the Knight's strikes as the continued to issue forth with no respite forthcoming. Knowing he could not remain in a defensive retreat, he observed that which surrounded the foes, feeling every inch of the ground the Living Force would provide him [LS]. Sensing a nest of insects nearby, the Krath backpedaled towards the grove in which they were nestled before flipping away from his opponent - letting the biting edge of Zarc's blade provide the decisive strike. As the humming, azure blade struck the thicket a swarm of excited, defensive insects erupted from their hive. Momentarily consumed by the hive, Zarc's offensive was stalled.
"Does it not bug you when I do something like that?" the Krath mirthfully inquered, laughing at his own pun.
Jumping back from his mentor’s silver blade and the swarm of insects, the Aedile cursed himself. He was being humiliated by Braecen. First the Pontiflex gave him a haircut, and then he sent a swarm of insects towards the Knight. This infuriated the Journeyman, however, the Obelisk kept a cool head, as he always did while fighting. First, he had to get rid of the stinging swarm.
Yzarc wished for there to be a pond or other body of water he could dive into, but he’d have to find another way to lose the stinging insects. He shut his lightsaber, and ran towards the Krath. Braecen stood with his feet firmly planted with a look of surprise on his face. The Knight took this moment to run into his mentor, knocking him off-balance. The insects were confused by the two human smells and started attacking both fighters.
Yzarc backed up and looked at his master. “Not entirely, master, because they are more annoying than painful,” he said with a sneer
The Aedile’s blue blade sprang back to life as the Pontiflex’s silver blade did the same. The two combatants fought through the swarm of insects, each swing killing a few more stingers. First, the Aedile was on the attack first, but Braecen was able to catch one of his apprentice’s swings and redirected it, thus, putting the Krath on the offensive.
The Coruscanti rolled from a lunging attack that he saw coming before Braecen began to swing [AA]. The insects were practically gone by now and both humans began to swell up from the stings.
The constant slashing and slicing stopped for a second as both fighters stepped back for a breath of air. Both men were breathing as if they had never worked a muscle before and suddenly worked everything. Braecen seemed a little more composed than his apprentice but Yzarc seemed wearier than the Pontiflex.
Sweat poured down the face of both fighters; large, obtrusive dots that constricted their eyes with the burning of the salt from the extered sweat. Their chests pounded up and down as they labored from a shortness of breath - their muscles protesting from a further, prolonged battle. But, for the Krath, it was his mind that raced quicker than his heart. He could see the vast, unlimited potential of his pupil, but could not seem to get the man to break free of his short-sighted restraints. Sometimes, he thought, the Obelisk Order is simply not imaginative enough.
As the combat rejoined their blades caught, Zarc slid his blade down the length of his Master's - a static, screeching noise erupted from the manuever. Both warriors looked up from their blades, eyes locking for the briefest of moments. The Pontifex, unable to overpower his student, found his blade edging back upon him. Unsettled by the direct, brutish attack he stepped aside and snapped off a kick to his opponents knee. The sudden release of the lock and the propeling blow forced Zarc to stumble, but left the Krath unable to capitolize on his success. By the time he rounded on the Obelisk, the man had already fallen into the simple, staccato-defensive-offense of the third form. His saber moving only when necessary and his attacks only coming when it demanded that a prudent attack was the best form of defense.
Infuriated by the ritualistic fighting style, Braecen began to bark out orders like he had when he drilled his student a year before. "Sequence Five! Thrust. Sidecut. Overhand. Overhead backhand. Backhand side!" Drained - both mentally and physically - the Obelisk Knight complied with the instructions of his Master instinctually, before he could think otherwise. The motion was fluid, well-rehearsed and absolutely devastating as the powerful sequence tore through the Krath's defenses and forced him into a retreat. Sudden comprehension sparked in the Aedile's mind for a moment as he realized that his, thus far, limited approach had not been beneficial, but holding him back.
His muscles knew over fifty such sequences, practices time-and-again during his Apprenticeship to the Krath Pontifex. He knew that linking these patterns together, and utilizing the Dark Side for direction, he could become a warrior of terrific power and style. Despite the shortened hair and physical weariness, there was a bounce in his step as he charged forward towards his Master.
The Aedile’s sweat drenched legs pounded on the leaves that had scattered about the clearing as he raced towards the Pontifex. The Dark Knight’s lightsaber gave a blue eerie glow off the trees. The light meshed with Braecen’s silver blade. The two bars of light connected, throwing out a bright yellow light.
Yzarc found himself following Braecen’s words. He began going through the movements the Krath taught him. He moved his lightsaber to what Braecen would call Sequence Eight: an overhand cut followed by a thrust and a backhand side, finished with a slash. The Pontifex couldn’t keep up with the Knight’s power and his knees started to buckle. It took all Braecen had to enter into a saber lock on the final slash.
Suddenly, the Aedile stepped out of the saber lock, throwing his lightsaber out, hoping to catch his mentor off guard. The Knight’s sudden backstep and subsequent thrust with his blade did indeed catch Braecen off guard. Yzarc saw the glare of hate and sparkle of pride in Braecen’s eyes as he also noticed a cauterized cut on the Krath’s face. Surprised that he could even catch the Pontifex off guard, he back up.
“No!” Roared the Krath, who was slowly getting up, “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”
The Pontifex was at his full height now as he faced his Apprentice. He had to bend his neck up to look Yzarc in the eye. The Krath deactivated his lightsaber and said “Well done, Yzarc, but don’t ever stop, even against me.”
Yzarc nodded and deactivated his lightsaber, glad he didn’t have to strike his master down, as he still had much to learn, it seemed.