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
He felt the pain bleed from the Jedi into the Force, and Alkor drank deep. Torment validated him, whether his own or that of another. It reminded him of where he had come from, and why he continued to fight. The Dark Jedi let out a sound of contentment as the sensation crept from his fingertips down his spine, and for a single instant, he found Nirvana.
It was torn away in a smoldering ruin only seconds later.
The Force screamed as molten fragments of the floor jumped toward his cloak, and he felt the heat dangerously close to his body. With Geir still on a knee reeling from his telekinetic attack, Alkor found his opponent dangerous in desperation. Without a second thought, the Corellian fumbled with the ignited fabric and cast it away. It fluttered to the ground, the hungry fire lapping greedily at the fabric.
Newly revealed by his hasty disrobing, Alkor's torso was bandaged from waist to navel, and dried blood adorned the haggard strips of gauze. He felt the sting of the flames linger, though he was fortunate enough to avoid being burned himself. It was enough to earn a growl from the killer.
"Pathetic," he repeated, this time audibly. "Come and fight."
As he spoke, his left hand snatched the second Lightsaber from his back, and the blade surged to life, the blade matching its twin.
And so the fight was on, the real fight at least. Geir having now completely dismissed the thought that this man could indeed be saved today, fell into a very dangerous form for a Jedi as he rose to his feet once more. The pain that had once throbbed threw him from his nose had since dissipated and Alkor seemed to give him the slightest chance to recover as he threw off his burning cloak to reveal a much different figure. A figure wrapped in bandages and dried blood. Another blade of crimson had jumped to life as the Dark Jedi too switched up his approach.
Vaapad was a dangerous form for any Jedi to utilize as it brought the user dangerously close to the Dark Side, requiring them to revel in the thrills of the fight. To accept the fury of their opponent, and transform themselves into one half of a superconducting loop, with the other half being the power of darkness inherent in the opponent. This form had a singular purposed and that was to win and defeat the enemy.
His blade twirled one full loop in his right hand as his continued to stare down his opponent. To this point in the fight Geir had been singularly focused on trying to save and redeem this man. To return him to light. But, with such notions dismissed now, the Dark Jedi was facing an entirely different opponent. An opponent now that was focused on nothing more than ending this fight with a triumph. It was now that Alkor would realize why Geir was a blademaster in the Jedi Order. The beginning of the end was here and both duelist would know that. The body could only be pushed so far before it broke as could the mind. The full scope of what either man possessed was about to be unleashed and through that both of their fates would be decided.
His eyes narrowed on his opponent and Geir spoke once more. "The time for words has passed." The six words were all that he spoke, as his eyes remained trained on Alkor. He spun the blade once again savoring every second given to rekindle as much energy as possible.
He couldn't have agreed with those words any more. They were the first sensible thing to come from the Jedi. Up to this point, the Jen'jidai could hardly tell whether the other man considered this altercation a joke, or had intended on holding back. Both options seemed ridiculous.
To Alkor, who fed off the chaos of conflict, there could be only one answer for this man.
He strode forward, neither confident, uncertain, nor cocksure. He simply was, and with him, two blades burned brightly. Their hum grew louder as he approached the Jedi, and he fully expected the other man to reciprocate.
And so here is where they stood. Their battle of Force talents would not decide this any longer, nor would either's attempt at deception for a blade to find an intended mark. No . . . this fight had come down to one of wills and was left to be settled with blades. May the best bladesman win.
A smile crease the lips of the Jedi Master as he took in the fight as allowed the himself to relish to thought of the victory to come. Form VII required that for it allowed him to take in the fury and darkness of of his opponent and transform it into a superconducting loop. It was a way for him to use his opponent's strength as his own and in turn against that opponent.
Geir pressed forward now, his right taking the first step to close the distance on the man and once that distance was close enough, his strike would come. Fast and seemingly effortless is execution. Perilously so. His blade swung upward at a forty-five degree angle from his left thigh to right shoulder, hilt grasped with both hand. And his momentum circled it around quickly and ferociously as the blade spun and reversed its direction with the same haste, though this stike was a horizontal one, following a course parallel to the ground. The blade slung from Geir's right to his left and then circled upward for another consecutive slash. This one was vertical, crashing down from head to toe and spinning Geir 360 degrees to see the same blade path again. This time, though, the blade halted in a defensive posture in front of him, his eyes narrowed on his opponent.
His opponent raced at him in a drunken daze, clearly seeped with enjoyment. Alkor had not met many Jedi willing to risk the penumbra of darkness, but those he had proved worthy. A smirk played at the edges of his lips, and his tongue darted across his teeth as the tinge of madness crept into his eyes.
Yes, they had all been worthy to die at his hand.
Alkor walked a different path from many of those he once called "Brother." Their interests stood in collective domination, in lording over those weaker than themselves, and ultimately in stamping out those things which offended them most as they played god. Alkor had ambitions far less lofty.
His only desire in all the universe was to be the strongest. This Jedi had transcended his meekness and cultivated himself into a challenge. The only thing that a Demon could do was accept.
Alkor ripped his left blade upward from his hip as the Jedi brought his weapon across, and the crimson plasma surged into the path of Geir's own weapon. Sparks scattered between them as his opponent quickly spun the blade around after the initial strike was denied.
The blade on his right intercepted the second, horizontal attack midway through, and his left saber lashed out in a horizontal arc, aimed for Geir's chest as the Jedi followed through, intent on cleaving the man in two.
Again with the counter; Alkor's defense was pristine as the adept of the Dark Side parried away yet another blow. Alkor was a great duelist; Geir could not deny him that, but great didn't mean invulnerable.
Geir was larger than his opponent his strike would be stronger than the one-handed attempt to parry it. As Geir's blade came slicing through in its horizontal fashion, it was met by Alkor's crimson beam of energy. The collision changed the angle and altered the path of Geir's blade, though it still continued its course.
Alkor had successfully kept himself from harm but in doing so had aided Geir in his defense of the next attack. With the angle of the blade altered, it soared into the direction of Alkor's left handed strike and parried it away. Surely a stroke of luck, however, that was not how Geir chalked it up. The will of the Force aided him there. It wanted him to win. He wanted to win.
As the blade of Alkor was deflected away, Geir's strike continued through. Quickly the blade's direction was reversed and came back with an extreme force from left to right this time at chest height for Alkor. Still held in two hands, Alkor would likely be required to block with both sabres or risks being overpowered and cleaved in two.
As Geir's horizontal slash came through, he also pivoted on his right foot while extended his left out and low at the forward most leg of Alkor. The attempt was to drive his opponent off balance and possible tumble him to the ground. On the ground, Alkor would be pressed to adjust or risk being utterly overwhelmed and in turn beaten.
The strike barreled through his parry and halted his left handed slash. With a fierce motion, the Jedi halted his momentum and reversed it in short order- with a weighted weapon, it would have been impossible, but in lightsaber combat, this was quite normal.
High paced movements and swift strikes were characteristic of this sort of conflict. The moment one duelist slowed down or fell behind, it spelled doom for them. Fortunately for Alkor, he was conditioned in such traditions.
His left blade shunted the attack intended to overpower him horizontally harmlessly away, his body turning parallel to the Jedi weapon. The blades remained connected as the Dark Jedi took a half step backward, and he saw the lower torso of his opponent shifting in telltale fashion.
His right blade circled around from where it had been batted aside, and he brought it sundering down toward his opponent's outstretched weapon arm, seeking to rend straight through it and then the leg as it snapped out at him.
Unlike a textbook adherent of the darkness, Alkor had very few emotions of his own to fuel the fire. Those that still existed were stale, distant memories of his youth. He often harnessed them like fumes in an engine to start, but instinct was the true driving force behind his movements.
Again Geir's attempt to strike Alkor down had been thwarted. Again Alkor had proven to have an answer for him. And again Alkor seize an opportunity to counter attack. However, it the dance of blades, things were never as one desired or thought that they should be.
With the blade pushed aside yet again, Geir tucked and rolled to his front-left and around. The kick had thrown him off balance and a simple misstep had proven to be his saving grace in this instant.
Alkor's blade barreled down just behind him as the roll took motion. Geir could feel the shift in air and the gentle breeze that came with it as Alkor's blade nearly did him in. The call was too close and now Geir had a very limited numbers of options. The bout had drug on longer than either combatant would have anticipated and by now the effects of exhaustion would be setting in for them both. Both were extremely well conditioned through their plethora of years of training, however they both had their limits.
Geir continued his roll and used the momentum to bring himself back to his feet before taking a couple of steps back and away from his opponent. His mouth was agape now, as a larger intake of air was needed to sustain himself as this bout carried on. His blade was held in front of himself and in a horizontal fashion. His eyes closed as he focused inward and on the fight at hand. He gathered the Force and restored all confidence in himself. He was going to survive this. He had to. If he lost that confidence in himself he had lost this fight. It was clear Alkor thought the same of himself and his will to come out victorious.
The Force would guide him through the rest of this fight. It had center for in the matter of a fraction of a second he'd centered himself and gave himself over. Center of Being had taken hold and would guide him through.
Alkor let out a ragged breath as his opponent evaded any loss of limb, and he finished his motion with both blades hanging at either side. The Jedi rolled out of the way and assumed a defensive position, deterred from the previous offensive he had mounted by the Jen'jidai's own aggression. Alkor followed with his eyes as the other once more amassed distance, and took that opportunity to collect his breath, as well as his thoughts.
The Jedi shifted, first from defensive, to offensive, and then back. What was the common denominator? Was this an attempt to play the long game? Did he intend to wear Alkor out by forcing him to expend copious amounts of stamina?
Sweat beaded on his body, more from the heat of the lightsabers that irradiated the room than from movement, but the rise and fall of his chest indicated that it was a factor. Reality set in quickly- this fight would not last forever. It could not.
And he needed to get back on schedule.
He stalked forward again, slowly at first, and tightened his grip on both weapons. There had to be a give somewhere in this man's defenses, even if evasion was the primary method he used. Alkor would find it.
Just as he came within reach, the first blade- his right- flung upward in a diagonal, aimed for the underside of Geir's lightsaber blade.
With a grace, Geir's blade moved to intercept the attacking blade of Alkor in a downward fashion to the left. The intercept was quick and precise. It seemed effortless and he did not choose to strike out at his opponent in return.
In the same moment he stepped backward and continued to keep a defensive posture against his attacker. He could not afford to waste anymore energy on wasted attacks. On attacks that would just be thwarted with little to no effort at at all.
Master Zayne had taught Geir much over the years and even though he often disregarded instruction when it came to lightsaber, combat, Master Zayne's instruction had for the most time, always been right. He would urge patience in a fight. To allow your enemy to exhaust themselves before becoming the aggressor yourself. To allow the the enemy to show their talents before you showed them what you could do. A tired opponent didn't make rational choices. He would also talk about how the battle of minds was more important than the dance of blades. And that overconfidence was the ultimate enemy. Zayne's instruction had been wise and valued, but Geir had the tendency to dismiss them in favor of his own confidence and ego. A flaw for sure, but one that had yet to see him done in.
Still, he focused inwardly on the Force and continued with Center of Being allowing the Force to guide his blade along its intercept course.
And his opponent took the bait. As Jedi often did, he seemed to sink into the Force and slowly drown. They called it "the will of the Force," as though it were something mystical beyond comprehension, as though the universe itself had some higher sentience to shepherd the meek.
Disgusting.
Alkor trained for most of his life to gain strength on his own terms, savaging his body and straining his mind until he could transcend his own limitations. His musculature evidenced that- beneath the bloodied wounds and bandages, Alkor was more of a machine than a man. Everything ran at peak efficiency, even when his body crept toward sluggishness.
When Geir swept his right blade away, he took a step forward with his right foot and barreled toward the Jedi. His right elbow surged toward the Morellian's chest, which pulled his saber along and placed in in the direct path between the two.
In the same motion, he shoved his left saber upward from beneath his right arm and aimed to skewer Geir through his midsection as he bowled into him.
And there it was. Was this really the beginning of the end? Of is end? Had he actually been bested for the first in his life since having been knighted so many years ago?
He refused to believe it. He couldn't believe it. The moment he did believe it, would be the moment he lost everything. He wouldn't even allow the thought to come across his mind. Not even even for the briefest time. Instead, his mind only committed to the task at hand. To his very survival.
His blade took a circular motion [counter clockwise] in front of his body, as he continued to step backwards though slightly at an angle to his left, matching the forward pursuit by Alkor. The back stepping would allow for Alkor's attempted elbow to be futile in effort and the blade that came with it was swept aside and upward.
However, when the left blade of Alkor's came, he'd managed to angle himself just enough away that the aggressive strike swung violently through empty space. Too close though. He could feel the heat as it swelled from the blade. The air as it brushed by his body and face. His heart race inside his chest as the intensity of the situation at hand grew. As his limits and abilities continued to be tested past anything they had been tested before.
However, in the blink of an eye, Geir noticed the man had left himself oh so vulnerable and he would seize the moment possibly end this duel. Alkor's right side would have been exposed if his parry had gone to plan and the blade sent upward and elbow risen. Geir's blade, in classic Vaapad fashion, would change direction and bear down with great speed at what should be a now open side in a reversed circular fashion from before. The strike was designed to cut the man in two, particularly at chest height and end this fight once and force all if effective.
If ineffective, it would likely be his death though, depending on what actions his foe took next.
His body moved like a feral beast now, entirely driven by his awareness and the subtle hints given by his opponent's movements. His aggression and fatigue were expelled in the form of heaving, near growled breaths that steamed from his partly open mouth. A testament to the heat of his body, augmented and saturated with the darkness. Its cost was steep- and Juyo collected its taxes promptly.
Their blades followed a wide, arcing pattern over both their heads and Alkor snapped his body around in a ferocious half twist. His right saber whined and crackled as the Jedi blade pressed into it with immense gravitas, but his side step caused it to glide almost harmlessly past him, albeit within several inches of his body.
The heat from the sparks loosed by their clashing blades, however, burned his right arm and sent ripples of pain through his body. A double-edged sword. While the sensation in his nerves threatened to cause his hand to spasm, he willed himself to grip the weapon tighter, even as his left side whipped toward Geir.
The blade came up empty with his previous thrust, but the weapon remained in prime position to complete a most grim task.
He sent the blade diagonally toward the Jedi, intent on cleaving him from hip to shoulder.
The beginning of the end; it had set in now. Both men's actions were taking tolls on them and perhaps moves were going to become sluggish shortly there after. His strike, the one meant to cleave Alkor in two was thwarted, the sparks jetting outward and burning his foe. He slipped down to a knee and by the grace of the Force, did so in just enough time to save himself from certain death.
Alkor's blade screamed through its diagonal path, clipping Geir right shoulder and singing the fabric of his tunic. He released a sharp cry of pain and rolled away to his left. His hand, still managing to wield the hilt of his saber, gripped at his shoulder, instinctively, as if it would somehow nullify the pain the erupted from the spot of contact. His teeth ground together in his mouth, as he fought back the pain.
The blue blade retreated back into its housing, but Geir did not turn his gaze from his opponent.
This was the closest he'd ever been to defeat since his knighting so long ago. The feeling was foreign to him, as was his own reaction to it. But in his mind he knew the fight was not over yet. It would continue until one of the two lie lifeless on the hangar floor or until both men were so drained of stamina, that neither had the ability to carry on the fight any longer. At that point, there was no doubt that the Genosians would execute them both when neither would be able to defend themselves.
At precisely the moment Geir threw himself toward salvation, the beast reared its ugly head. Of all the lightsaber forms, the seventh derived its name from a most sinister, dangerous, and overwhelming predator. The Vornskyr hunted practitioners of the Force and with their envenomed tails, they paralyzed victims before ending them.
The tail cracked forth from Alkor, born of his frustration and Geir's searing pain. In the middle of his roll, Alkor sent a hammerblow of Telekinetic energy toward the small of his opponents back. He was more than tired of the acrobatic near-misses robbing him of his kill.
Sweat and spittle dripped from the edges of his lips as he pressed down, seeking to hold the Jedi in place if his attack came successful.
If the Jedi's own saber failed to fillet him, the thrust at his spine from Alkor's would finish the job.