A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
Akribow found himself transported to the junkyards of Raxus Prime. In his time, Raxus had been a lush world, but now? He found his surroundings absolutely disgusting. He would turn on his heels, and inspect his surroundings as he waited on his opponent to show up. The mounds of trash offered him a a lot of things to throw around, which would help, considering he had very little to attack at range with. As he inspected, he also noticed a few fires burning around the area. That could be useful.
He would take his saber from his belt twirl the hilt around in his hand as he waited, idly weaving in between the mounds of trash. He reached out with the Force and his voice would fill the valley they were in, but it wouldn't betray his location, though he wouldn't stop moving while doing so. There was an innate feeling of anger in his voice, and the words came with a tone of certainty. The kind that made his intention clear, without any hiding.
<<I don't know who you are, but I am going to give you one chance. Lay your weapons down and give up. Or kill yourself. I really don't care. But I am giving you a single chance to walk away unscathed. I suggest you take it.>>
He would cut his words off and begin to suppress his presence in the Force, and shifting. He would jump and start to climb one of the mounds, hoping that he could get an advantage. Whether he simply had a height advantage, or he was able to remain hidden from his opponent didn't matter, as long as it was one or another. Hopefully the debris, and pockets of burning trash and faulty electronics would keep sensors from being able to pinpoint him.
Zik was worn out as well, and his growing rage was doing little to soothe the burns on his back. The cold floor he had just rolled on didn't help any, the two burns feeling more like they were still ablaze. The heat was nothing new to the Echani. He was one of few masters of pyrokinesis in the galaxy, and not unfamiliar with convection either. Not that it would be any help to him now. He didn't even have enough left to numb the pain with crucitorn. And he wasn't so mad that he could just summon the power to ignore the pain any longer. He moved his saber hilt into his right had and activated it, keeping the tip of the unusually colored blade pointing at Adi...
...Who just deactivated his own saber and took an entirely non-hostile stance. Zik stared the man down as he spoke, and the rage that he had thought wasn't there began to bubble... No, boil up inside of him. After all that had just transpired in the span of what, ten minutes? He wanted to stop fighting. A fight that he had started. and smoke it out like they were old friends.
I gave you a chance to talk! All this could have been avoided! But no, instead, you would rather turn it all into wasted effort, throwing it all away because neither of us know how this is going to go? Fuck you! I've met Twi'lek virgins more decisive then that!
Zik was about to say more, but he would just sigh. His burns were wearing him down, and after four millennia of stasis, he needed a fucking nap and a drink. The Echani stared at Adi for a while longer before simply shrugging with the obvious 'fuck it' expression. He didn't turn his saber off, but he did lower the tip slightly. He didn't trust Adi, nor did he have any reason to, but he was fed up with fighting first thing after he woke up. He would keep his distance, but he wouldn't push anything else.
This had been more then Zik had anticipated for having just woken up. Judging by the equipment he had seen earlier, it had been Molos, but what had became of the Mirialan? What year was it? Who was the man who wanted to fight without any idea who he was fighting? WHAT EVEN IS FRUIT?! All questions for later. All but one of them. What would he do now? Adi was sure that he had found his opening, and that the end was soon at hand.
There was one thing he had forgotten about though. The Echani's damnedable perception. He had been waiting to hear the snap hiss of his opponent's lightsaber shutting down once more. But that isn't what happened. When his back was to Adi, and he was most open, Zik began to throw his weight forward. It wouldn't be enough however. With the last of his strength in the Force, with it filling his body, his speed would drastically drop. The last of his reserves centered in his back, resisting the blow from his saber as he began to move forward. It was only just enough though. His robes would burn, and his skin under them, but he was able to stop the slash from penetrating.
He threw his weight forward, diving into a roll as quick as he could as his back began to burn. He wasn't used to fighting people that stood on equal foot with him, and the fatigue was evident. Zik however, come from a time where engagements like this were all too common. As the Arkanian took a step back and his vision began to blur, Zik was almost through his roll. When his foot hit the decking, and he was able to stop himself, he spun left to face Adi. His left hand flung outward, throwing the warblade at the right side of Adi's head. As the rest of his body came around, it was followed by the right, flinging the other sword at the left side of his opponents chest, his left hand reaching for the saber on his waist. They hadn't gotten far away from one another, but if Adi was somehow able to dodge or parry the throws, Zik had to be ready for the counter attack. Adi may not have been willing to give up, but neither was Zik.
Zik furrowed his brow at seeing Adi turn with him in what would feel like real time. To anyone watching, it would seem as a blur, but what kind of sick fuck would be watching this like it were some sort of blood sport? What a bunch of assholes, right? But Adi's plan worked. As Zik's blades came into contact, the Echani was stopped in the split second bladelock, rending his plan as just thoughts floating around his mind.
Zik was annoyed, but it was hardly something that couldn't be dealt with. When Adi pulled back to disengage the blade lock, Zik would shift his weight, turning to spin back to the right as he brought his hands up towards his chest. This move would take the Echani away from the down spin meant to sever his hand, and instead put him on the outside of Adi's right side. Instead of attacking with his blades, he would keep them ready to counter his saber, should the need arise. At the speed the pair were moving, the time it took for the blade to spring to life was normal compared to how quick it would seem to an observer.
What Zik did about this was aim a left kick for the side of the man's right knee in the hopes of taking his leg out. Based on the way he was using his saber, Zik could figure he would shut it off once more. He would have to wait, hoping to time a strike for right after he would deactivate it. If Adi was true to his style, Zik would thrust his right blade towards the Arkanian's throat. His left hand stayed close to him, anticipating retaliation from his opponent.
Maybe I will have to see for myself when this is over. Many a person have tried, and less then a handful have gotten close.
Whether he was bluffing about it or not, it was clear as day that he certainly was no push over. Adi had done well in keeping him from controlling the pace of the duel so far. The projected strikes from earlier would have ruined anyone less skilled in reading their opponent, and the grenades certainly would have ended the day of many. He kept himself away from Zik and let the Sith wear down his reserves, no doubt a plan he had cooked up for dealing with his modern counterpart. But then he allowed Zik to get his hands on his swords.
The nature of Sith swords, through metallurgy, alchemy, and the creators mastery of the Dark side, gave them several properties. Like Jedi katanas, or the use of Force weapon, they could not be destroyed by a lightsaber. They were capable of deflecting blaster bolts and lasers. But perhaps most importantly, they acted as a vessel and focus for the wielders dark side energies. Akribos gave a dark grin as he felt some of his reserves restore from the blades that had absorbed so much of their masters essence over the last few millennia. Adi done goofed. Zik spun the blade in his left around so it was no long inverted. Lightning began to spark and crackle along it's length as he stared Adi down. He would point the tip forward, and a bolt of lightning shot off like an arrow, but it wasn't pointed at Adi. It was sent for his gear.
If Adi did nothing to stop that bolt, it would hit his utility belt, cooking off the baradium primers in his last detonators. The resulting explosions would be too small to harm either of them from where they were, but it would be just enough to destroy the equipment on the belt. The only ranged attack he felt should be made by him at this point in the fight. He would save his restored reserves for amplification. with the focus of his warblades, the use of speed would be far less draining. The wound on his shoulder was an annoyance, but one that was feeding the Sith's growing anger. He would have to deal with it later, but for now, it was fuel for the fire.
Zik let the Force pool in his legs once more before he would take off again, his left arm across his chest. Now at fifteen feet, there wasn't much time to set up a run away. He would try again for another slash at the man's left side, his left blade slicing through the air, followed quickly by the right as he turned to spin around Adi as he had before. Instead of a reserve elbow though, he would lift one of his feet, and attempt to bring a hard left boot down on the back of Matango's knee, followed by a stab with the right blade towards the right side of his neck. Once again spinning from Adi's left side to his right, he didn't plan to pull away. His momentum continued to carry him into a reserve round house with his left leg, aimed for the Arkanian's face.
Akribos could only grit his teeth when he watched Adi hitch a ride on the lid of the sarcophagus. Unorthodox counter, sure, but it was hardly the craziest thing the Sith had seen. The worry for him now, were the silver orbs his opponent was pulling from his belt. Grenades. Lovely. Akribos may have been several thousand years removed from this time period, but grenades still looked like grenades. He could hear the voice in the back of his mind telling him to not stop, and he wouldn't.
Rather then the flourish of moves he had planned to strike the Arkanian with, Zik pushed himself harder, each step hardly feeling like he made contact with the ground. There was a small pop behind him, and he could see the flash of light reflected in the walls and floors of the glossy Imperial hangar. But that had only been the first of two, and he couldn't afford to stop now. He poured what little reserves of the Force he could call upon to carry him as fast as it possibly could. The second pop was much louder, but by the time it had gone off, the shock wave sent out by the detonator had merely ruffled the Sith's robes, and made his ear's ring slightly with tinnitus. He took a final step and turned to where the lid had landed, roughly fourty feet away from him now. Adi was gone.
Zik gave a growl at what he saw as an act of cowardice. He would shift his saber from his right hand to his left, reaching his now free hand out towards his sarcophagus once more. He had enough left to draw on the last of his possessions within it. Two Sith swords would spring from his former home m swirling through the air to his hand. They were not as large as many were historically, the blades being no longer then twenty two inches. The hilt of one settled into his right hand, while the other floated around him.
Surely you are the greatest I will find in this time... He would deactivate his lightsaber and put it back on his belt. The second sword was then snatched from the air in his left hand. He would have to rely on martial skill for the fighting itself, as he had to save what little power was left to hone in on where Adi was with the Force. The greatest little derivative pile of blackberry pudding pop fuckery to ever glaze this shitty little galaxy.
Akribos shifted his stance, moving his right foot back slightly. His knees bent to keep himself grounded. His left hand would move out in front of him, holding the blade in an inverted style. His right arm would move behind his back, ready to defend, but also keeping how it would move hidden behind his form. He wouldn't lash out without knowing where Adi was. That would be wasteful. Those projected blows no doubt left the man fairly drained, and attacking from range now would only give his position away. If this fight was going to continue with any true effectiveness, they would have to stop playing games.
You have the stance of a martial artist, but your tricks lack the honor of one. Would your masters be proud that you make a mockery of their craft with grenades and blasters? Can you look my other self in the eye's and hold your head up high while talking about this fight so far? If he is anything like me, I can tell you now. He is thoroughly disappointed.
See, it didn't matter to Zik whether or not Adi wanted to hear it, What mattered to him was the fact that his opponent wasn't listening to what had to be said. <<Go figure the first person I come into contact with wants to fight to the death.>> That was the thought going through his head, of course. Zik hadn't been moving forward, still standing within feet of the sarcophagus he had hopped out of, His silver eye's were peering at Matango, watching him go through his katas. A dangerous choice for a time killer in front of an Echani he planned on fighting. Zik gave a deep sigh and shifted his weight a bit, almost centering himself. Something very odd for a Sith. But he was Zik, this era or another, the name carried an abnormality to it.
As he watched Adi, his scrutinous gaze followed every tendon that went taught or relaxed, every ripple of muscle under flesh. It didn't matter if Adi was wearing clothes or not, Zik could see the movements and what went into them as if he was watching a wire frame. And then those motions began to commit to memory. one of the innate abilities of wel trained Echani was the ability to learn moves almost instantaneously after observing&nbsp;them. He wouldn't be able to use them right away, but it would make pinpointing and avoiding the moves in question much easier for him.
He was still taking his time, setting up his 'sphere of influence'. Every martial artist had a 'sphere of influence' so to speak. For many it was the circumference of the range of their arms, the area in which they could block or parry. For Force users like them, it was far beyond that, reaching out as far as the Force would while relaying information back to the user quickly. This was battle precognition. The projected fighting would be clear as day to him, phantoms of Adi hung in the air like phantoms in front of him. As hard as he worked to sear them into the Force, there was no way he wouldn't see them.
He exhaled as he was mid step, the Force flowing through his body, the world starting to slow down around him. There was no way that the Echani was going to be able to dance around those blows the way they were coming. His only real option was to burst passed them. As his foot hit the floor, the Forced surged inside of him, speeding him narrowly passed the line of incoming phantom blows. He couldn't account for the three shots from the DL-44 in the same manner however. He drew his saber to his hand, the weapon igniting in the distance between, but it wasn't fast enough to block the first bolt, which grazed the back of Zik's left shoulder blade as he turned to face down Adi. A flick of his wrist would block the other two bolts, but it was only enough to send them off harmlessly instead of back to their origin.
He gave off a curse in ancient Sith and threw his left hand out towards his sarcophagus. A tendril of the Force ebbed out, seizing the lid, which shuddered slightly, before he launched it it towards the man. As it flew forward, a flat trajectory towards the man, Zik spun on the ball of the foot he had stopped on, turning to bear down on Adi. The Force surged in him again as he pushed off in an arcing sprint to bring himself in from Matango's right side. He looked like he would come in for a slash of his saber from Adi's back to the front, but it would be a feint, if he fell for it.
The swing of his blade, whether it connected or not, was a distraction from his side spin, trying to carry himself behind Adi for a left reverse elbow, empowered by momentum, aimed at the back of the man's neck. He would allow the momentum to carry him further, spinning to a stop on Adi's left side, his saber and right side forward, as his left stopped behind him, in time to see if the lid would make contact, assuming Adi had not moved. His silver eye's now had a burning orange around the edge of his iris'.
Zik had expanded a lot of his reserves of the Force for such a burst of speed, in both the distance covered, and the speed itself.He would try to continue drawing on the surrounding energies as best he could, but now that the fight had started proper, he could only devote the smallest amount of focus to the draw, like idly taking a sip of drink through a straw. The wound on his shoulder would take a moment for the pain to truly settle in, but it was hardly enough to win this battle.
He stared at the man for a moment, watching every movement with the keen eye one would expect from any Echani worth their salt. He had noted the mans almost curious gaze of familiarity, and had planned to address it before the man delivered his last line. How annoying. Zik would sigh for a moment, recounting the last few things he remembered before being locked away. None of what he remembered seemed to make sense to what the man before him was saying, but there was no mistaking what was intended. He drew in on the Force. The residual Darkside aura from the ship, the dark tendril reaching up from the surface of Korriban below. An egotistical Sith might have felt they were at the advantage, but that wasn't him.
"Well excuse the ever loving fuck out of me for being awakened right here, right now. On a ship I don't know, by a stranger who has no fucking clue who I am. But let's start with that look you gave when you first saw me, hmm?" *He would gesture a hand out towards Matongo.* "Judging by the look you gave me, and what I know of my master, I am going to assume that I am somewhere in what is the very distant future. Stop me if I get any of this wrong. I ahve been awakened, for reasons unbeknownst to you, for what I again assume is a threat great enough that the Sith want it dealt with. *He brought his hand to his chest.* "I am Darth Akribos. Formerly of the Dark Council of the Sith. Judging by the look before you started tossing out threats though, you likely know me by the shared name of those like me. Zik Kine. But please, for both our sakes, just call me Darth Akribos. I killed a -LOT- of people to get that title. I deserve to be called as such."
*The entirety of his grandstanding was mean to buy him a bit of time. Coming out of a stasis like his was a bit jarring, though he seemed to be handling it well enough. The stasis had left him feeling a bit drained, but he had been lucky enough to be awakened over a font of Darkside energies. Much like his opponent though, he drew in on anything that he could. His stance was relaxed, more stationary then Adi. He seemed to take his steps from side to side, pacing slow, as if working his muscles into a state of alertness. Of course, he had no idea what to expect out of the man, but since Zik wasn't going to budge after being challenged in such a fashion, he was ready for whatever came next. Hopefully, the sluggish, tired movements would buy him the time he needed to study the man more, but if this Zik was anything like the one Adi actually knew, charging just because he was sluggish would not be the wisest course of action.*
The large Mirialan had looked up from his work at Adi when the man walked into the hangar, before looking back down to his work. He began to shut down equipment and move his scanners away from the stone structure, as though he had only been working until someone else showed up. Once everything was moved away, the Mirialan lifted his hand, gesturing to Adi that he should wait a moment. He turned back and began to scan the structure one last time, a final check on the readings.
The Mirialan put his hands on the edge of the structure, and put his weight on it. He would reel back his right foot, before letting it slam forward like a shotgun, colliding against the stone. "Rise and shine, jackass." were the only words that came from the man before the lighting flickered for a moment. When it came back on, the chains holding the stones shut were on the ground. There was a pause in the Mirialan, almost comical in nature as he took the visor off. "...Shit. Shit. Shit!" he exclaimed before he would start to power walk towards his ship, and up the ramp. The power would flicker once again, before there was a rumble of stone on stone. The Miralan was gone, his ship taking off out of the hangar. A Adata-pad fell at Adi's feet as the ship left, 'He's your problem for now' scrolling across the display.
A final flicker of the lights in the hangar were punctuated by the loud thud of the stone hitting the metal flooring. It was a sarcophagus of sorts, but unlike those on the planet below, the occupant of this one looked...well...alive. A man sat straight up, his eye's locked directly on Adi. His features were familiar to the Arkanian. With the exception of his hair being short, almost feathered, and a missing scar on his cheek, the one starring him down was the spitting image of Zik Kine. His silver eye's shimmered as if they were set on fire, before he hopped free of his prison.
"I know they locked me away as a counter measure, but you'd think the fucking bastard could have set something up to let me out every couple hundred years... What year is it...and why are you the only one here?"
He even sounded like Zik, though there was the smooth undertone of a Galactic Cold War era Imperial accent. He wore the robes of a Force-user. Mostly black, with grey accents. there was a few pieces of armor over his left shoulder, and the backs of his hands and forearms. He wore a single lightsaber on his belt, but that seemed to be the only weapon he carried, but there was no telling if there was anything else inside of his sarcophagus. He kept his stance relaxed, feet shoulder length apart. It seemed he was not aware of the tournament, but someone woke him up right here, right now for a reason, and the only one it could possibly be right now was to fight.
The Executor hung in space over an angry red planet, seeming to float almost derelict. Upon entering or landing in the hangars, it only seemed to confirm scans of both instruments and eye's, something was horribly a miss. The corridors were filled with maddening silence, no boots, no droids scurrying about. Nothing. Attempts to reach anyone on the bridge would fall on deaf ears...or no ears? The only return to any hailing of the ship was static. eventually though, instruments would pick up on activity in one of the hangar bays. A single small ship, with two lifeforms not seeming to move too far from one another. The Darkside was heavy through the ship, not altogether shocking, giving the ravaged dust ball it was floating over, or the historic owner of the vessel, but there was no mistaking the concentration of it in that hangar. At least one of those two lifeforms was a powerful Darkside practitioner.
One could easily land in the hangar, but what was seen would not quite match the scans. A makeshift lab in the hangar. No real walls to speak of, just some raised flooring, and several machines. There was what appeared to be a massive man, easily over seven feet tall, moving between the machines, He was clad in what looked to be much older Republic-issue armor, with the markings of a medical officer on the chest and shoulder pads. He didn't wear a helmet, instead having some sort of scanning visor covering the deep green skin of a Mirialan. The outlandishy large man was moving back and forth between his instruments, and a data-pad that his visor seemed to be feeding data to directly. In the center of the raised floor, and the center of the strangers scans, was a stone construct, covered in runes, and wrapped in heavy chains. Upon getting closer to the man, his equipment, and the structure, one could feel a growing heat, the smell of dust, and burning filling the air. The runes had appeared to be a deep red, as though they were a piece of the planet below. Once close enough, the seam around the middle of the stone was apparent. It wasn't a solid structure, but a container. What sort of thing was pulled from the depths of Korriban that the Sith would lock so tightly? And what was the Mirialan doing with it on a seemingly abandoned dreadnought?
Aside from the easily discernable features, he is rather athletic. His build is on the muscular side, but not at the cost of his range of motion. Unlike his current era counterpart, Darth Akribos recieved more formal training, attributing to his stronger physique.
FORCE POWERS:
Pyrokinesis
Crucitorn
Lighting
Scream
Speed
Battle Precognition
Absorb
Force weapon
WEAPONS: Twin Short Sith warswords, single black core red lightsaber