Post by Darth Strigus on Nov 12, 2016 14:33:37 GMT
In the dark of the tunnel, the only light was provided from the lightsabers. As his danger sense flared, followed shortly by the eerie sound of cracking ice, Strigus felt a kind of dread completely new to him. The small illumination the lightsabers provided was just enough to see the faint outlines of figures lurching toward them, but not enough to make out any features or accurately guess their numbers, and what little he could see was distort to a red color. Both hands on his lightsaber hilt, he took a defensive stance as the first of the undead made its way toward him.
Post by Darth Strigus on Oct 27, 2016 23:19:59 GMT
Any joy from the apparition's screams were cut short when it began swelling with everything in the room. The rage was palpable, and sensing the explosion coming, Strigus began sprinting toward his master. Alone, all he could hope to do was deflect the brunt of it with his lightsaber, which had already proven ineffective against the spirit. With how the fight had been going, in fact, he'd no doubt just make whatever came at him molten before it hit him. Instead, he trusted his master to have some way of countering, and hope that he could reap some of the benefit for himself if he was close enough. It was just a matter of getting to Darth Lucifer before the spirit erupted.
Post by Darth Strigus on Oct 20, 2016 19:59:07 GMT
Strigus walked in slowly, firing the ion disruptor at isolated targets while Lucifer and Athor dealt with the larger bulk. He advanced calmly and aimed carefully, not seeing any particular rush to clear the field.
Post by Darth Strigus on Oct 16, 2016 14:15:08 GMT
"Well, then, unless the Lady objects, we should move immediately." Aras' near-permanently grey feathers had just a hint of green to them as he looked to Maleine. Difficult as the disciple was to read, it was clear that she had the final say.
Post by Darth Strigus on Oct 16, 2016 13:54:14 GMT
Strigus somehow knew exactly what to do as he raced toward the Jedi. It was an odd feeling, as though he were in a perfectly choreographed holofilm scene yet also completely in control of his actions and making them up as he went along. Like he could have gone against the new and complex attack set he was instinctively going to perform, but it was just too perfectly put together to have any desire to. Any desire aside from a curiosity if he could, that is.
Meeting the first Jedi, he grabbed his wrist and bent it back, sending the lightsaber in the Jedi's hand upward. As he did this, a second appeared, raising her lightsaber to strike with dizzying slowness. This gave him ample time to throw out a kick in the center of her chest, pushing off her to topple the first Jedi, whose lightsaber was now moving to strike a third Jedi behind him. As they toppled like dominos, Strigus- or was it really Hezzoran, for Strigus doubted he had the agility to pull this off- spun himself about the first Jedi and landed on his feet before a fourth Jedi. Throwing out a series of punches that appeared fast even in his quickened state, Strigus danced about this Jedi, until he was behind her. He then threw himself into the air, kicking the lightsaber out of the hand of a fifth Jedi with one foot and kicking off his chest as he had before, this time diving back to the fourth with a punch to the back of her neck that could shatter vertebrae. And so the one-sided fight continued, Strigus feeling more powerful than ever, as the Jedi one by one were taken down.
"Well, digging the hole is what started this chain of events. I'm not sure on the particulars of this virus, but if there's a chance the explosion would just melt ice and worsen things, we should probably avoid it," Strigus said, spitballing off of Athor. "If we push them down the hole, we may as well just open fire on them from above. It seems a nicely poetic ending to finish this in the hole where it all started."
As the red light swirled around the holocron Gatekeeper's hand, Strigus wondered whether the holocron could influence the physical world in a meaningful way and do any real harm to him. He knew better than to wonder such a question aloud, however, and instead wordlessly took the extended hand, wondering where the Gatekeeper was going to lead him.
"I think I see. I feel torn between two paths, but they are actually one and the same. In learning to be a warrior, I will ultimately be forced to learn to be a mystic." Noting the keeper's dislike of the word, Strigus quicked tacked on, "Or at least, anything of substance from that path.
"This is... comforting, somehow. To not be limited in scope. You say you had many students, Lord Hezzoran. Might I ask you to take on another? The way you flowed through the field of combat was pure art. The palpability of your rage as you absorbed the lightning, of the terror as the assassins tried to flee, it was exceptional. I want to learn how to fight as you did."