Thu Dec 20, 2012 1:54 pm by Bedrovelse Hevn
*The sands of Korriban kicked up behind the speeder as Hevn ripped through the valley unhindered. He was nearing his target. The small blip on the radar told him so, the beacon coming back in shorter intervals as the minutes rolled on. He had landed closer before.*
*"It had also been stupid to do so.", he thought to himself. It was strange that there had been no signals of life in the area. Before it had been teeming with irritants to duck and weave through. Annoying bugs, lizards, and the like standing between him and the tome. Now it was deserted. Eerily so.*
*He could see it now. The peak of a collapsed pillar jetting above the small dune. Pulling back he scales it, and comes to a halt at the top. The tomb was half buried in sand now. He curses silently, dismounting. A crackle in his ear prompts Bedrovelse to listen, rather than look ahead.*
:: Bedrovelse, there is a signal coming from inside the tomb....a broadcast. ::
*Hevn's hand rises to his ear. Giving the comm a short tap before speaking cooly into it.*
"Can you intercept it?"
:: Yeah, one second. ::
:: Kill him! Now! ::
"What the hell? Oh."
*Hooded figures emerged from what appeared to be a pit in the decline toward the tomb. From out of the blackness came those of darkness. Their faces were hidden in the shadows of their hoods. Their hands gripped lightsabers firmly, and confidently. They strode erratically at first, and then assumed a formation. Three, turned into nine. A wide line, a few feet between each.*
*Obviously in an attempt to surround me. Typical.
"I would have attacked in a line I think. Dashing toward the target, each following adjusting to their move, burying them in attacks from all sides much quicker than wrapping around."
They were better armed than he remembered, and stronger. Their auras are fierce now. Honed. Practiced dark siders. The question is simply how? How did they hone their powers with no one to guide them? What did they know?
No matter. Pick them apart, and continue. Start with the goon that takes you head on, turn around, and topple them like dominos. Let us begin.*
*It wasn't quite a smile. A smirk of bemusement would have been more accurate. Bedrovelse reaches into his coat towards his belt, and removes the elongated hilt of his saberstaff. Twisting it once, he thumbs ignition. A slow woosh emits from both ends of the staff. Two silvery blue blades. Nine screeches of red light spring into the hands of the Sith. They begin to wrap around, and Hevn takes confident strides forward.
Getting closer he could see they worse masks. Black ones. Eyeless. Face protection for certain, but by extension also a powerful sense of force sight. He nods the silent observation to himself and sweeps forward in a dash. He pulls his left arm back, holding the staff in the center, and jabs the blade at the gut of the man dead in the middle.
The red blade flourishes from bottom to top, swinging high and horizontally to push the blue one up. Hevn lets it, using his right hand to grip the hilt, he brings the other end up in a swipe beneath the red blade. It turns to smack counter clockwise into his uppercut and driving it to his right. Now the left hand, push forward to draw one end back, and send the blade flying for the left shoulder. The Sith has to throw his body to turn the blade again, blocking it in the identical fashion other that the turn of his hips, and that was where Hevn caught him. His back right leg bursts from the sand in it's comfortable idle position and smashes the heel of his boot into ribs. The kick caved in the Sith's ribcage, pushing bone into lung, and sending the Sith flying a short ways into a crumpled, writhing, silently wheezing mass upon the ground. The Sith releases his saber, and cradles his middle.*
*Hevn could feel him or her dying. Slowly. In excruciating pain. Though it didn't seem to make any effort to touch the force. His awareness peaks though as the others stood by very calmly, and with relatively no movement while he dispatched the first to fight him.*
*One approaches from his left, and one from his right. Four in two relative lines waiting at his 10 o'clock, and 2 o'clock. The one to the left draws it's blade high to slash from Hevn's neck to left shoulder. The one on the right draws it's blade low, to swing through the back of his right knee.*
*Hevn feels the life slip from the Sith behind him. Bedrovelse focuses on the dead Sith's weapon. Using his sense in the force to seize it, ready for ignition, and sling it from the body toward the Sith on the right. Hevn's concentration is precise, aiming high while the two appeared to be focused on him very directly.*
*Hevn ignites the launched lightsaber. It spins to brilliant red life and rips through the Sith's neck, leaving only the one on the left to deal with. He raises his left hand gripping the staff, causing the hilt to sit horizontally with a blade on either side of his torso. The red blade slams into his blue one, pushing it down and to his left. Hevn turns his chin, ducking his head, and spins his body to the right.*
*Bedrovelse touches the force again. He needs just a little more speed to catch this one off guard. He reaches into the well of darkness in this place. Somewhere in that tomb feeding these Sith what they desired. Hevn could also touch it. He pulls on it, and accelerates his spin to twice his bodily capability.*
*The right blade of his staff cleaves the Sith in half in a flash of silvery blue. Hevn having completed his three-sixty degree turn, saw one from each side charging him at full speed now. The left was closest. Hevn springs from his back leg, footsteps pounding through the sand behind him, and throws his saber staff with a great heave toward the Sith's face. There was still a little touch left of speed for the force to lend him, and Bedrovelse uses it. The sith raises his saber in defense, deflecting Hevn's staff back toward him. He raises his left hand again to snatch it, and stopping damn near on a dime throws his right leg up. It was like a mosgoth taking flight, his leg was a great black wing rising. It smashes into the Sith's wrist, below the pommel of the lightsaber, throwing his arm up and weapon high. With his leg still up, his mechanical left leg stabilizes balance, and turning his wrist he jerks his arm to plunge the right blade into the heart of the Sith. He falls back, limp, as the one behind Bedrovelse sails through the air to strike at the back of his head.
Hevn bends his right leg at the knee and lets his left give out. He tucks himself low to roll forward. He hits the sand hard, and tries to jet up to his feet quickly. He could hear the lightsaber barely miss him, and come around for a follow up. As he turns his blade to parry, a ferocious push launches him from behind, and throws him toward the Sith. Bedrovelse being of greater weight takes the man off his feet, and lands on top of him. He raises his fist quick, and slams it square into the middle of the mask. He felt it cave, and the man beneath fail to move again.
There were two in front of him, walking now, as a hand reached around his face, and jerks his neck back. It was impressively strong. Before he knew it a dagger had been driven through his left eye. Hevn didn't scream, at least not on the outside. It was internalized instantly. His body seemed to know the stakes, and his mind and spirit did not fail him.
Laughter filled the air as the dagger tried to cut deeper, yet could not penetrate any further than the eyeball. Hevn's plated skull held his brains from being scrambled completely.*
*Pain. Twisting ferocious pain screwed up every thought or plan he could make. Hevn connects to the only thing he can. The sand scratching at his knees, coating his lips, raking his face with the wind. He reaches deep into the force to alter his environment.*
*The ground beneath each Sith seems to abandon them. The sand shifts aside, creating man sized holes, and then filling in to bury them chin deep in sand. They struggle to do anything other than wiggle. Hevn rises, anger etched into every feature. He raises a hand to his bleeding eye, and strides toward the two that laughed. One kick, two kicks. Two dead. Broken limp necks hanging from their spines as they had nearly been swept clean off with the power of his legs. Turning to the one who managed to stab him, he nods.*
"You weren't trying to kill me. Were you?"
*There was no sound. So Hevn tore the mask from the Sith's face. A pale woman, with scarlet eyes peered at him squinting as the sunlight touched her for the first time in eons. Bedrovelse places the staff back at his belt, squeezes her face with his hand. After a few hard raps against her cheek bones, he places his hand higher. His fingers and thumb have a vice grip on her temples. He places another hand up to his eye.*
"Take from her what she has taken from me. I offer her body, and soul in kind. Bogan grant me sight."
*Thus far, Hevn had not managed to perform the Sith Spell for healing in any way that could simply manifest healing on it's own. It had to be taken from something or someone. In the first case it had been from him to another. In this case it would be eye for an eye, and something more.*
*The burn was excruciating. He squeezed on her head, palm charged with dark and abyssal energies. He could feel her skull cave without any pressure he applied. His eye socket felt as though a drill were pushing from inside of his skull, out. His body trembles at the pain, he was not above it. Tears spilling from his eyes, pain too deep for sound. At last he sighed. With his hands falling to his hips he looked upon the woman with both eyes wide open. It was as though the desert claimed her. Only a skeleton left.
Shaken and disturbed he rises, body taxed from the power he summoned to restore his eye. He looks toward the pit in the sand, sensing nothing.*