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
Rules: Top Ten Force Powers, No Projectile Weapons, No Armor
Not far from the Nabeen Lake Country, the plains stretch out as far as the eye can see, flat Earth and ankle high grass, fresh air, and the occasional sight of wildlife was all that existed for several clicks out. The occasional cloud passes overhead, and if the duelists are lucky, they might get to see one of the peaceful planet's captivating storms.
Nothing special, of course- just aesthetic pleasure.
The plains of Naboo....with its endless beauty...and razor sharp grasses. There were clearings, of course, and in one of these clearings there had been a fight....one for the ages. Now again, here was Adieumus Matango, and he was once again about to engage a powerful opponent. He knew not of what to expect, but that was the fun of it.
At least the weather was fair this time. Last time? It was pretty much a hurricane, and that had nearly cost him the fight.
He had kitted out simply enough....the black hilt of his orange saber fastened to his hip by a hook-and-loop enclosure. He was in his normal black cargo pants, white sneakers, and black t-shirt. This time though, it was a new logo....this one read simply "I'll never smoke weed with Willie Again".....
...He had learned his lesson the hard way, and -earned- that tshirt.
Finding one of the largest clearings he could, Adieumus settled down, and began to meditate, immersing himself in the flowing river of the force. It was as if he was one with the very plains he was now sitting upon....feeling the ebb and flow of everything around him, and feeling the calm it brought with it.
The plains of Naboo were an endless sea of green, tinged gray by the pallor hanging overhead. A sunless, if mild day, inoffensive in every way. It was the perfect climate to test one's prowess, free of all distractions.
That's why I'm here, after all, wading through waist-high grass and armed with naught but my lightsaber. I've even traded my zeyd-cloth robes for a set made of a more common fabric. No, there could be no buffer between myself and this obstacle save the raw power I had accumulated in the time since my failure. To approach it in any other way would prove the outcome meaningless. If my power had grown, if I had weakened the bonds keeping me from freedom, then I would triumph. If not, well...I'd either be leaving these plains in a pair of stun-cuffs, or not at all.
As I crested the rise I saw him, awaiting my arrival in the clearing below. Adieumus Matango, my greatest failure. Oh, I had been bested by others, of course; Jud'dayus comes to mind, as does Ryu. But they were both far beyond me when I crossed blades with them. Adieumus was a foe I should have bested. That I hadn't had haunted me since. There was no way for me to move forward except through him.
Even if it was a whole new universe.
I began my descent down the hill, drawing the dark side in bits and pieces, draping it over myself like a familiar, if tattered cloak. The influx of energy was a rush; my nostrils flared, my pupils dilated, and my breathing quickened a hair. By the Force, it's been quite some time since I've done this dance.
I stopped about twenty paces from the Jedi, plucking the curved hilt of my lightsaber from my belt with my right hand.
Straight to the point...as expected. This man had given one of the best fights Adieumus ever had the privilege of fighting in. If it hadn't have been for that storm, well....who knows what would have happened? It probably would have swung the other way entirely.
There was not that advantage on this day. Then again, Matango was -not- the same fighter he was then, either. He gave a respectful nod to the man's question, but kept the distance between them.
In Ishmael's right hand was the same curved, black hilt that he had carried in their last battle. It had proven a nuisance then, and it probably would be this time as well. The Arkanian could almost feel the cold phrik, the curve to the elegant hilt. His fingers twitched, almost imperceptibly as he traced it in his mind. He could almost sense the very energy contained inside the crystal within...dark, foreign, and definitely not created in a natural manner. It was unstable, screaming to be unleashed, crying out for blood.
This could not stand. There had been entirely too much death, and far too much blood shed in this strange, new universe.
Matango's right hand flew open rapidly, and his eyes snapped wide. In the moments he had been admiring the weapon, he had also been studying it, and getting a slight feel for it. As any force user constructs the weapon with much care, and slow movements, so too can the weapon be disassembled with the force. However, when used without the care of if it works, it can be a devastating move to disarm an opponent, and create an opening. Something so simple, yet potentially very effective.
In the time between the last fight and this one, Adieumus had learned, many times the hard way, that direct attacks were futile until the enemy had no weapon. This was but the first step....not only disarming the other man, but stopping that weapon from drawing another drop of blood in this devastated world that the survivors had awoken to.
He made no reply to my invitation, neither with words or movement. I stood still, lightsaber down at my side, watching the man remain in his meditation stance. And feeling his mind reach out.
I had already opened myself to the dark side, fine tuning its ebb and flow through my corrupted vessel, and so my senses were honed in on every ripple. In this empty plain, the minute movements of the Jedi's energy were about as subtle as a speeder crash. Not flashy, grandiose, or over the top, but plainly evident nonetheless. And I found myself admiring him. The greatest sin a Lapay can commit is using more power than is necessary to achieve a task, and Adieumus' tactic was textbook for minimum effort, maximum effect- assuming his energy coalescing around my weapon wasn't for some unnecessarily excessive expenditure of energy, like Combustion. No, I anticipate either a Crushing of the internal components or for it to simply be yanked from my grasp. He knows, I think, that I wouldn't give him time to use a technique like Shatterpoint.
But he would be wrong. I'll give him all the time in the world.
As the Jedi's energy finally began to commit to my weapon, rather than just examine it, my left hand came up and beckoned. Twin tendrils of my own telekinetic energy streaked out at blinding speed, closing the gap in the same moment as Adieumus' own.
I was not targeting his weapon.
Instead I sought to seize his eyes in a vice-like Force Grip and yank them from their sockets in one fluid motion.
Well, this was most certainly not going as intentionally planned.
The man was too calm....There was no way he didn't feel Adi wrapping the force around his weapon, and yet, he wasn't really reacting. Or was he?? Adieumus' eyes started to tingle, and they came open in just enough time to see Ishmael's left hand just starting to move. Instead of using the grip he was holding to tear the weapon apart, Adi instead was forced to yank on the hilt with the force grip he already held, trying to pull it into the arm of the man across the clearing, and keep that left hand from getting any kind of solid aim. Possibly this could take Ishmael's right hand and arm with it, really throwing him off kilter....if not, the saber would go alone, and hopefully do something to alter the darksider's aim.
At the same time, Adi popped up off the ground into a left side stance, quite a bit more alert and wary of this guy. Apparently, he too had learned a few tricks since last they had clashed. Perhaps it was time to take this a little more seriously...it had been some time since Adieumus had any kind of real challenge, after all, and he just found out that there was no place for sloppy here.
Keeping his eyes on his foe, Adi spoke.
"Just give it up. Hasn't there been enough destruction for one lifetime?"
I retained enough presence of mind to switch off the lightsaber as Adieumus' energies finally solidified into a Grip- just as I had predicted. The crimson blade disappeared just as the hilt was yanked violently to the left, dragging my right hand with it as it streaked toward my outstretched left arm. The impact slapped my left arm wide, and left my right hand hovering in front of my chest.
That alone wouldn't have broken my concentration on its own. However, with the Jedi's maneuver complete, there was a chance he could mount a defense against my telekinesis. One that would probably fail, true, but the fight is very, very young and I had no intention of expending my energy in such a way- especially when there was still a chance Adieumus would deign to cross blades with me.
So I let the Grip dissolve back into the force, the energy melding back into the stream flowing through me. To the Jedi, I imagine it would feel as if each eyeball had been seized by a powerful hand and squeezed nearly to the breaking point, then yanked forward violently. The ocular nerves would stretch like rubber bands, straining and quivering, the occipital ridge would shudder and bulge as it sought to restrain them...and then the pressure would suddenly dissipate.
I -tsked-. Ryu would scold me for being so quick to rely upon the force. It was not a gross expenditure of power, but I pride myself on being a minimalist...and I intend to do better.
I dropped my arms to my sides, ignoring the Jedi's request, and reactivated the blade of my lightsaber.
With quick, even strides I began crossing the clearing, keeping a watchful eye for Adieumus' next trick as the distance between us began to dwindle.
If I reached him unmolested, my attack would be simple. A lightning fast jab, aimed at the inside of his left thigh, before the blade was quickly withdrawn, angled upward, and thrust again, this time to pierce the underside of Adieumus' jaw. All executed with the fluidity and grace of a master of the Contention Form.
Adi's vision was blurred, but he could still see the advancing sith...due to the crimson blade he was wielding. Everything else was a blurry mess at this distance right now. However, that was all the Arkanian needed to see. He would use this slight amount of time as his adversary advanced, allowing the few seconds to help clear his vision, and concentrate....He would need to for what he was about to do.
Adieumus had been training himself in applying form zero to combat for a long time. "A lightsaber on one's hip is more powerful than one in your hand." Matango only drew his saber if it was absolutely necessary. This meant that he had to develop a way to protect himself against saber strikes without using his own weapon. After training with Orfao, he had learned a technique to do so....force weapon. However, unlike most users, the former Jedi Master used it on his own body instead of an object. The point of this was to be able to create openings that normally would not be there, thereby using the element of surprise.
In the three-four seconds it took for his foe to cross the twenty steps distance, Matango steeled himself for the assault to come. This time, Adi would apply the force weapon technique to his hands and forearms. As Ishmael stabbed inward at Adi's left leg, Adi stepped out away from it, ensuring to keep as close to the other man as he could. As the stab came upward in Ish's right hand, Adi's own left shot into the path, trying to push it out and away from it's intended target of Adi's neck before it could get there. At the same time as his left was moving into the path of Ishmael's attack, his right hand gripped the black hilt on his right hip, unhooking it from the hook/loop fasteners holding it. He stabbed forward as fast as he could toward Ishmael's torso, using the rotation of his blocking left hand to add to the speed. Thumbing the quick activation biocoded trigger, the orange blade screamed forward. If all had gone according to plan, Adi's left forearm should still be pushing against the crimson saber and pushing outward, opening Ishmael up wide to the incoming tip of Adi's lightsaber. Once, twice, three times Matango's thumb fell upon the trigger, then pop right back off. Three times the orange blade would come on, only to shut off again. Three times his wrist would adjust ever so slightly to get a different target on Ishy's chest/torso area...And to catch him on either side, if he were to dodge. It mattered little where it hit, though....center mass was enough. The trigger on Adi's saber was geared for this sort of Trakata attack...It forced more energy from the power cell into the focusing crystal upon each press of the trigger, giving it an activation time that was less than half of a standard lightsaber....a quickdraw, if you will. Along with the electronic thumbpad, this allowed Adi's weapon to keep up with his own speed.
Adi's face was cold, almost emotionless. He needed to end this quickly....his eyes were throbbing still. They would soon start to swell, and make it even more difficult to see. With limited vision, Matango was at a distinct disadvantage, and it was going to get worse. He would have to keep things close range now, and that would be rather bad against someone as skilled as the one he was facing. He knew that the best way to keep from taking any more damage was to end the fight as rapidly as possible.
He was hoping that this was going to do the trick.
It was wholly unsurprising when my first thrust missed; Matango was an advanced practitioner of close combat, which was the entire reason I was so focused on closing the distance with him in the first place. His mastery of Trakata- as well as the integration of martial arts into his bladework- was second to none, and if I truly wished to test the limits of my newly acquired power, it would be by defeating him in a melee, not in a long range battle of telekinesis.
I couldn't tell what he'd done with the energy he'd gathered while I trekked across the clearing, and so couldn't have predicted what happened next. But as my lightsaber shot forward a second time, I watch it all unfold in the blink of an eye: his left hand, arcing up and to the left, intentionally moving into the path of my blade; his shoulders twisting, left pulling back ever so slightly as he puts torque into his right moving forward; his lightsaber, coming off of his hip and up but remaining unignited.
In that space between seconds, I saw it all.
And a smile bows my lips.
The moment his hand impacted against my saber I simultaneously bladed my body to the left, presenting him with my profile, and snapped my wrist to the right, causing my blade to dart ahead of the hand following in its wake. In one motion I rolled my wrist counterclockwise, looping the crimson beam of energy down and back to the left beneath Matango's arm, aiming to slice from his left hip to the center of his navel just as his own lightsaber flared to life in front of me, close enough to feel the heat and smell the ozone. Continuing the motion as Matango's blade winked out of existence just as suddenly as it had appeared, I snapped my wrist up, bringing my saber up into a vertical guard- the fact that it would rip the Jedi from bowels to sternum on the way was an afterthought- and brought it in close, prepared to ward against his next attack.
My smile grows wider, though whether it's from the thrill of close combat or the continuous influx of dark side energy even I wasn't sure.
This man was simply a genius with his blade...Elegant, flowing...He took every move, both his AND his opponent, and made it his own. However...That was pretty much what Adi himself strove for. Each movement had a purpose, small adjustments, and readjustments...not only keeping pace, but trying to predict what would come next. He might not come off as crisp, clean, or polished as someone like Ishmael....but he sure as kriff was able to improvise on his feet.
While the saber movement was unexpected, it could be countered. Movement for movement, the dance continued with Matango's left hand grabbing for the right wrist of Ishy from the top, trying to stop the darksider's adjusted saber attack before it struck his waist, and yank the whole damn arm outward....away from biting into him, and tasting the blood that the weapon so viciously desired.
As he would yank backward, should the intercept be successful, Adi would activate his own weapon in between the two men, attempting to pull Ishmael across the orange blade of his weapon, roughly stomach height. Again, it wasn't necessary to apply exact science to this one as far as where. A bisect was a bisect, and for the most part? It would be game over in that case. Against this guy though? There could be nothing left to chance. The force weapon Matango had applied to his body earlier was now fading as well. Unlike inanimate objects, the technique was not nearly as long in duration when applied to one's self...a drawback indeed....and one helluva time for it to fail.
His eyes were getting worse now. Even up close, things that were not brightly glowing like a lightsaber were nothing more than globs of movement. This fight had to be finished....There was little chance of standing up to Ishmael using blind fighting....he was -way- too fast, and frankly, he was too damn good.
Matango is fast, I'll give him that. His hand is little more than a blur as it snaps down from a ninety-degree block, elbow extending with practiced swiftness as he reached for my hand. It's easy to see why most refer to the Jedi as a martial artist, rather than a swordsman. He uses his lightsaber as little more than an extension of himself, incorporated seamlessly into a fighting style that uses his whole body, rather than focusing on the blade itself. It's impressive to behold, and I say that without a trace of sarcasm.
Killing him would be something like an honor.
Unfortunately for Matango I am both a swordsman and a martial artist; I've been a practitioner of Stava almost as long as Makashi, and the only reason I generally don't deploy it is that I am a Lapay. Only when the smallest amount of my power proves insufficient do I apply more, so that none is wasted. Today, the Jedi has proven stronger than that smallest amount.
He grabs hold of my right wrist; I am not nearly fast enough to stop him. My lightsaber is stuck, extending past the Jedi on his left side but unable to travel the few inches necessary to make a cut. And then he pulls, and his own lightsaber awakens with a snap/hiss! between us.
Things were about to get tight.
Rather than allow myself to be dragged forward I pulled back, resisting him and instead using the torque to swing my left foot around, turning so that my shoulders and hips wree once more square with my opponent's. At the same time my left hand snapped forward, claws gleaming as I aimed to grab his right wrist. It was one of the most common clinches between two swordsman, but I'm counting on two things: fatigue, and fading vision. I don't know the extent of either factors, so it's a gamble, but these maneuvers are taking place at breakneck speed; this is when strategy goes out the window, and instinct takes over.
So, as my fingers wrap around the Jedi's wrist- if I make it that far- I immediately launch myself forward, simultaneously wrenching back with my right hand, pushing forward with my left, and slamming my head forward, aiming the top of my cranium at the bridge of Adieumus' nose.
Damn this guy....He was just so kriffin -good-....
Even though Adieumus was able to get the grab on the wrist, the other man was already on the move. He pulled back on Adi's attempt to pull him forward, stopping the attempt at bisecting him. No matter, Matango's lightsaber was active, right underneath the other man's right arm.
As Ishmael leaned back to keep from being cut in twain, Adieumus' own right wrist snapped the saber upward as quickly as he could to catch the other man roughly in the elbow area, in an attempt to sever the right arm of the venerable warrior. As Adi's saber would be potentially cutting into his opponent's arm, Ishmael's left hand came clawing into Adi's right wrist, the well-manicured fingernails sinking into it. Due to his rapidly degrading vision, he hadn't even seen it coming. Roaring in pain, the Arkanian looked down, and inadvertently presented the top of his head to the incoming headbutt. It hit with tremendous force, and Matango suddenly saw stars where the blurry vision once allowed him to somewhat see. It caused him to stagger back, releasing the grip on the man's wrist as he did so. The only consolation was that it would hopefully have done the same to Ishmael.
As he stumbled backward, the claws dug deeper into his wrist. Tripping over pretty much air, due to his stunned state, Matango's thumb came off the saber activation pad on the hilt, and the orange blade hissed back into the hilt. The claws were embedded in the flesh, and ripped deep cuts in the former Jedi's wrist and forearm as he fell to the ground. Fortunately, it missed the vital blood vessels inside, but there was still a pretty solid amount of blood flowing from the gashes. Unceremoniously, Matango's posterior hit the ground, drawing a heavy grunt from the man. He was still trying to clear his vision of the bright white flashes, but it would take a second or two to do so. He rolled himself awkwardly backward, trying to gain distance...and those few precious seconds....he knew that even -if- he had severed the other man's arm, he would still be exceptionally dangerous...if not more so.
Here was hoping that -something- would go right for Adi....so far, he seemed to be on the receiving end of a pretty solid ass-whoopin....
It all happened so fast, all that I could register was the aftermath.
Adieumus was sitting on the ground in front of me, dazed and bleeding from his wrist where my claws had shredded flesh. Dull, stomach churning pain thudded through my skull, but it was a blow I had been preparing for and so it failed to disorient me. And the pain was nothing compared to my arm.
I chanced a look at it and immediately felt a feral snarl twist my features. It had been severed just above the elbow, leaving nothing but a blackened stump peeking out from the tatters of my sleeve. Every blood vessel had been cauterized, saving me from bleeding out on this accursed plain, but fiery agony lanced through the remainder of the limb with every heartbeat.
Has it come to this, then? Struck down twice in these grasses by a Jedi in a kriffing novelty t-shirt? Me, the heir apparent to the legacy of the Lapay? My path to true freedom...blocked by a cloud of Endorian smoke.
Rage bloomed to life within me. It mixed with the pain in my head and my arm, my frustration at being wounded by an inferior enemy, my raw desire to survive, and the dark side that had been coursing through me since before I had even closed with Matango. Rampant energy I had been fighting to suppress during the melee broke free, like a beast casting off its shackles and poising to strike.
As the Jedi brought his feet up to roll away from me my lips parted in a vicious Force Scream, enormous sonic energy surging from my maw as pure, unadulterated rage poured out to strike at my foe. My entire body shook involuntarily as the scream heightened its pitch, flattening the grass in a wide circle around us and shaking the very firmament.
Chaos, unleashed.
When it passed I sagged, completely drained and struggling just to remain upright. Immediately the pain returned, sharper than before. Wincing, I brought my left hand up to cover the charred wound, and cast my gaze out to determine Adieumus' fate.
Oh shit....the bastard was now screaming like a little girl...
That scream, however, while sounding like a little schoolgirl who saw a snake in the grass, was far more damaging than just a bunch of noise. As Adi was trying to roll away backward, the force scream tore through him, bursting his eardrums, and sending him tumbling away far more unceremoniously than Adieumus had hoped or wanted to. Now, he couldn't hear, he could barely see, he was at about his current limit for protecting himself with the force...Besides that, the scream had literally rattled him inside. It wasn't like it caused any internal bleeding, but it had penetrated the Arkanian through and through.
Now, here he was, sprawled across the ground like a drunken prom date....prone, and vulnerable....and the world was a spinning blur....but still, Adieumus stood up. Wobbly, disoriented, and wonky as he was, he still got back up. That scream was sure to have taken a toll on his foe....and Ishmael -was- disarmed, literally AND figuratively, while Adi still had his saber. Sure, the former Jedi couldn't really see, and...as the blood from his burst eardrums was flowing from his ears...it was apparent he couldn't hear either...
...But he was still standing.
Wobbling on his feet a bit, Matango grinned at his foe as the lightsider put the black hilt of his lightsaber back on his hip.
"You scream like a bitch, darksider. Give it up....You are beaten...."
Adi was -really- hoping the man would take his offer....He really didn't feel like killing Ishmael today....
As the sonic energy of my Force Scream faded back into the ether of the force, I stood panting, weakly clutching the stump of my right arm, and observed Adieumus' prone form, laying amidst the grass. He was alive- I had drained almost the entirety of my force reserves, but his life force was still an obvious, infuriating beacon- and so I knelt down to where my severed arm had fallen, and pulled my still active lightsaber from the grasp of my not-yet-stiff fingers.
When I stood, the Jedi had risen.
His words elicited a faint smile, but I didn't deign to reply. Words were wind, after all.
And I'm a little to angry for banter at the moment.
I gave the lightsaber an experimental twirl with my left hand and was satisfied; I had been an avid practitioner of Jar'Kai while I studied beneath Lord Annorox, and was pleased to find myself still ambidextrous. The pain shooting through what remained of my right arm was tremendous, but I was, as far as I could tell, physically unimpaired. Combine that with the lack of bleeding and it seemed I was in no danger.
After all, this isn't the first time I've lost an arm.
And yet it still sends star-burst of rage dancing through my cranium. Up until this point I had been contemplating simply crippling Adieumus. I would prove my superiority, but allow him to live. No longer.
I advanced swiftly through the grass, teeth gritted and amber eyes narrowed on my target. I took note of the location of his lightsaber as I neared. Ending my stride on my left foot as soon as I was in range, I stabbed my blade forward in a lightning fast stab aimed for Adieumus' right knee.
It was a feint. I'm counting on his blindness and disorientation to conceal that fact, but even if he realizes the maneuver for what it was, he still may be too impaired to react in time.
Just before my blade reaches its target I roll my wrist counter-clockwise, looping the crimson plasma to the left, up, and around to bite at the Jedi's right elbow.
