Moric Thian

((Sorry for taking so long to post. I was away for a while and I PMed Xentar to start training you, but that wasn't his main account so he didn't check it.)) "Good," Moric said with a smile on his face. "I do not care which cause you align yourself with or how you orient your life, only that you adopt and accept your teachings over any Sith teachings you might have recieved in the past. The Jedi are rarely correct, but they are right in that the Sith only bring destruction. The Archserpent turned to his partner, who had been standing motionless for a time. "Begin training this man. You know of what to teach. If we are to make a dent against the Arch'tar as you prepose, we must expand our numbers. I will begin to search for a new member among the Sith recruits...before he is corrupted by their foolish ways. What say you?" As the Archserpent, Moric could order Xentar to perform his request. Yet given the duality and friendship of the two men, doing such a thing out of blind arrogance would be stupid. No, Xentar was not a suboordinate but a trusted friend. One whom would be asked rather than ordered.

Moric chuckled to himself as this newcomer listed his accomplishments. He certainly did think like a Sith, reciting his resume as if his words held any significance. He waited patiently for him to finish, humoring the man with great amusement. ”œThose names mean nothing to me,”

The bushes rustled as they parted to reveal a man of much different stature than Xentar. He was shorter and far less physically boisterous. His arms and legs sported muscles the size of an average man who took a liking to combat. The strength he carried was not displayed by physical appearance, but by much more dangerous means. And only to those too stupid to distinguish between the two. ”œI am Moric Thian and I believe you have already met Xentar,”

As the two Serpents ran to intercept the intruder, Moric faded back while Xentar ran ahead. They reached the man's location and at the last moment, the Archserpent dove behind a conviently placed bush. Xentar could obviously handle himself, but if push came to shove, Moric could rise out of his location and offer a little surprise. Even though the Serpent Master could tell this man's power did not match his own, underestimating him could destroy that advantage. Hense the precaution. The two men began to talk, the new comer exhibiting more attitude than one intruding on private property should. As the conversation progressed, the intent of violence diminished with each word. Still, Moric would remain in his current location just in case. If anything, he can see just how much of a diplomat Xentar could be. Even with his many strengths, diplomacy was certainly a weakness. Moric fingered his silver lightsaber, keeping his presence with the Force as silent as possible.

The Archserpent thought for a moment as his eyes scanned the clear blue sky sluggishly. The immanent threat of the Arach'tar certainly demanded their attention of not action. Yet at this point the Serpents, despite their power as individual warriors, held very little sway within the galaxy on a holistic scale. In order for them to truly make a dent in the legends of history, they would need to align themselves behind a much bigger creature. A symbiotic relationship in its truest sense. Before Moric could ponder further, a small imprint of the Force carried through the currents of Chandrila. The planet was a lush forest word sprinkled with fresh bodies of water and a warm but not hot climate. Its location within the outer rim made it an unfortunately place to dwell given its distance from other more prominent dwellings in the galaxy. Certain tribes and villages did exist however, living peacefully outside the reach of the Empire and the Alliance and their continuous squabble for power. Given that information, it was an odd happenstance for a Force adapt individual to land so close to the Serpent compound, which lay in complete isolation from the rest of Chandrila's underdeveloped civilizations. ”œWe have a visitor Xentar.”

Moric nodded as Xentar spoke, keeping his eyes focused on the distance. The larger man was correct. It would be a stretch for most Jedi or Sith Masters to accomplish what had been done by the Serpent order at the tournament. As a result, the two warriors proved to be worthy of the ranking. ”œFrom this day forward,”

Frozen was an understatement. Moric stopped breathing, devoting all his concentration to the holo-vidas he read. Corellia was now nothing but rock and dirt. Thian stretched out with the Force for a moment as if testing the wind. It didn't take long for him to realize the death permeating through the energy field. The galaxy was at war. Memories and images from the tournament played through his mind, of the pain and victories and the crushing defeat. Yet here he was now, reveling in a new sense of ferocity and strength. As he improved and flourished however, the galaxy and those who lived in it deteriorated. What was to be done? It seemed both Jedi and Sith fell victim to the threat, these machine creatures. Certainly the galaxy would be a better place with those two perverted sects demolished forever. Why not just sit and wait while the Arch'tar destroyed the cancer of the galaxy. The opportunity for battle, for war, for the taste of blood never amounted to such a time as this. War created legends, created the fierce warriors who dominated the history books. How could he pass up the chance to swing at that giant? Despite the neutrality of the Serpent in politics, the beast to never sit out when fighting was to be done. ”œXentar, something must be done.”

Water was everywhere, surrounding him. He remembered a massive golemn made completely from stone morphed from an ivory tower. Suddenly now, herolded by a flash of light, he could not breathe. His instincts took over causing his muscles to spasm in a blind rush for survival. He kicked and lashed forward, desperately fighting against the currents forcing him down below. With surge of the Force, the energy field coming to him as if filling his parched mouth with life giving water, he launched Force wave towards his bottum. His sense of direction was discoordinated and his vission unreliable. When it came to life and death, neither of those things mattered. What truly would determine his survival was his desire. True dependance on the Force was weakness, who could fight with a crutch large. No, the Force was a deadly weapon, yet the warrior truly formed the threat. This surly was the case as Moric Thian surfaced, droplets of water splashing forth in all directions. He landed with a thud inches away from Xentar. The smaller yet more experienced Serpent got to his feat, his body ravaged by war. Yet despite all that he was home, surrounded by the lush forrest and clear air of Chandrila. Even though his love of battle and rage for war defined him, the sweet aroma of piece was certainly welcome. "Work to be done indeed. How long have we been gone?"

After a few hours of passing, Moric Thian made his way into the bacta chamber. Any soothing attempt by the other Serpent Lord was shattered as Thian made his prensece quite known with a loud voice. "Xentar! When you are ready, I need to speak with you." The simple sentence was enough to accompany Moric's exit. He knew Xentar would be at his heels momentarily. The Serpent Lord need a good conversation to follow. ((Short post I know, but I have class in five minutes))

Moric stood up, the simple heat surrounding him was enough to almost blind his vision. If he had not been immune to its effects, that was probably what was going to happen. "I see you have survived." Moric turned his head and faced the dead grass surrounding him. "My power is yours." Thian shook his head, keeping his eyes pinned on the clear blue sky. He took heart in that fact that no matter what damage he could unleash, what carnage he could manifest, and what destruction he could cause, he could never taint the purity of that sky. The only thing he knew was the day he could, was the day he no longer derserved to live. The Serpent Lord's mind turned to the current situation of the order. The organization was stricken with the disease of inactivity. There was nothing left of it. "So what is your plan now Xentar?"

Moric dipped his hand into the water below. The ripples shot forth, dissapating several meters before even reaching Xentar. The Serpent Lord removed his hand and watched for a moment as water droplets began to drip like sand falling from an hourglass. A few silent moments passed as Moric continued to stare at his hand as if mesmorized by a supernatural phenominom. He could sense the patience within Xentar begin to thin. As if breaking a mirror, Moric shot his hand towards the water, tearing the tranquil scene before him apart. Flames poured into the clear liquid instantly heating its contents to a boil. The temperature of the water shot upward like a thermamator set to record the sun. The Serpent sent his other hand straight at Xentar and unleashed another barrage of flames. The tendrils of fire proceeded to lick all over Xentar's body, teasing him like a playful seducedtriss. A few moments passed before Moric unleashed the intensity of both his palms, letting the manifastation of the Force pour from him like water from a pitcher. The sheer heat compoused in the body of water caused the ripples to turn red as the tranquil effect burned. The air around lake began to sizzle, waves of heat almost visible to the naked eye. If it had not been for Xentar's Force preparations, he would have been dead. The Serpent Lord released his anger and focus as the last of the fire shot from his hand. It continued to surround Xentar, trying to tear his skin of with its headed scorn. The situation was quite simple. If Xentar abosrbed enough heat, his state of being would simply change. The Force would work to consume the raw heat until its signature took on that identity. If Xentar failed however, he would remain nothing more than a pile of ashes hidden beneath the makeshift hell consuming him.

"Take in the surrounds around you Xentar, because after this moment it will be hard to appreciate such things." Moric raised is head towards the sky and closed his eyes, trying to let the complete purity of this place fill him. Unfortunately, his memories spun to the first time he had learned the ability of fire. The pain and agony of that moment destroyed any respect the Serpent Lord had for nature. It was simply a formality to shape the terrain of each planet to make it suitable for organic habitation. Once Moric understood what nature was capable of, he no longer saw it for what it truely was. This was the greatest price he paid for the ability he was about to pass to his fellow Serpent. "Remove your clothing and get in the water. When I tell you, I want you to put up as many Force barriers around you as you can. Absorb as much of this as possible." Moric kept the details of his particular action vague; yet he had no doubt Xentar already knew what he ment. "Let the pain and agony become you, let it fuel you and define you. Only then will you learn what I posses. Moric sat by the edge of the small lake, letting his hand move about the water. Small ripples formed and dissipated in a span of only a few seconds. His heart began to beat slightly faster as he awaited the following of his simple instructions.

The sliver lightsaber remined silent and domant in a corner, its destructive powers diminished by the simple pressing of a switch. The blade as if shifted completley out of its state of being shot to it master's hands. It then resided against Moric Thian's waist its job fulfilled. "I believe this test if over. You have proven yourself Xentar." Despite the fact that Kentam had reached for the two blades instead of the victory, Thian could not discredit the man for his performance. Not only was he able to take pain and convert it to energy, but he was also able to control his emotions and unleash them at the right time rather than flail them wildely like a dazed Sith. The first steps into the Serpent order where never taken under perfection. Moric had learned this the hard way as well, having been punished extensively for hunting down a pair of Jedi Knights just to seem them die. "Follow me to obtain what you seek." The arrogant facade lavishing Moric's face throughout the duel suddenly vanished as the man made to leave the room, having fulfilled its purpose of testing the former Sith Lord. Xentar had grown substantially into something much more dangerous than a Sith. So many Sith tried to strike fear into the hearts of their prey through tauntings and general fear related tactics. Yet this plan was generally flawed in design. Sith needed to be reassured of the supremacy by the weakened facade of their opponents. The only reminder a Serpent needed of his own superiority was through the end of his lightsaber. The Serpent Lord came to a halt next to the great lake surrounding the Serpent compund. The water lightly reflected the crystal blue sky adorned with ripples flowing through the empty air. Soon this tranquil seen would change quite rapidly. Moric only needed to wait for his fellow Serpent's arrival. He sat and enjoyed the peaceful scene knowing full well what he was about to do.

He was making such progress too..., Moric thought as his back slammed against the wall. Xentar had been able to make use of pain and even resist Moric's tauntings. But in the end the foolish pride of the Sith could not break its hold on the fleeting Serpent Lord. Moric's parry was weak and easily traversable. Xentar could have struck a second time and Moric would have no chance at stopping it with his balance and blade thrown into confusion. Yet Kentam decided to steel the silver lightsaber instead, its visage of power too consuming and attractive for the proticle Sith to resist. "What makes you think possessing two weapons rather than one will make you fare any better Kentam?" Thian's head cocked to the ceiling as his patience began to run thin. In his mind, failure was much worse than not doing what one was told. Duel wielding would never grace Moric's arsenal of combat. Mobility was far too limited, a weakness Xentar just subjected himself to. It was breaking the art form, belittling it to nothing but a flashy trick. It was like Xentar took a handful of mud and threw it into a spotless and pure stream, contaminating it forever. Moric shot towards his opponent as he dived into the Force for the first time on the offensive since the fight began. He let the flow of the power surround him as its reassuring glaze pushed his physical capabilities even further. He could feel the Dark Side rushing in as Moric's anger began to surface, his eyes boring into the two activated blades resting in the Sith's hands. The Serpent Lord knew he possessed the power of fifty lightsabers as he neared his opponent. It was time for Xentar to figure that out. Kentam was probably expecting Moric to unleash his flame abilities; that notion being the probable driving force behind stealing the silver blade. If a listener could follow a symphony note by note however, there would be no purpose in picking up the instrument. The Serpent Lord leaped into the air taking advantage of Kentam's momentary defensive stance. Calculating his actions several seconds in advance, Moric found himself landing, throwing his position out of the line of physical site, and already manipulating the Force, its will at his disposal. An invisible wave similar to what Kentam conjured only moments ago slammed into his arm, knocking the silver blade forward out of the Kentam's grasp. It was like water streaming down a cliff as Moric poured into his next action. He spun to his left landing himself level with his opponent's side. His speed was so great it looked as if Xentar could do nothing but stand and receive the punishment Moric was about to unleash, like a child too afraid to move in fear of his father's rebuke. Thian ripped a slash of his fist, streaking towards the chiseled arm of the Sith Lord. Muscle could do nothing against the raw power of the Force as Moric's fist ripped into Kentam's arm. A sickening crack resounded through the room as Xentar's arm fell to his side motionless. The Serpent Lord then attached his grasp to that very same arm almost tearing the joint out completely. He then lunged with all of his might, letting the anger accumulating through the last few seconds fuel the power and strength mounting within him. The sadistic pleasure of the moment was expressed through a smile illuminating that very idea. Xentar then found himself slamming into the nearby durosteel wall, his large stature and visible muscles leaving quite an impressive indentation that would last quite sometime. Through the taint of the Dark Side, the will of the Serpent slashed through as Moric backed away, fighting the urge to finish the fight. He would not be killing Xentar yet. "You must understand Xentar, the Force equalizes all." Garet Jax's words continued to stick with Moric all these years. He constantly fought by them everyday. Even though Moric could not mach Xentar's physical strength, the Force more than made up for the gap. "By taking away my physical weapon, you've opened the door for something far worse." Moric remembered back to his days in the forest, leveling himself to something much more primitive then a man. He used no weapons, only the Force and his bare hands to remain alive. It was for a moment like this that justified that entire endeavor. ((3. I'll PM Robbie for the ruling))

Through the haze of falling to the floor, the environment around the Serpent Master cruzed passed his field of vision in a comfortable speed of confusion. Yet the Force had a funny way of trumping even the most desperate situations. It was amazing how finite those beings that used the Force actually were. If not for its helping hand, Moric would have been cleaved in two by Xentar's shimmering red blade. Xentar's attack provided a nice window to critic Moric's skill as of now. He landed himself in a compromising position having no balance to provide a desired dodge of any kind. Through this however, the Force still operated despite the Serpent's imperfections. The key to any warrior was not the attempt at sheer domination that Sith exercised, but the wisdom in knowing one's ignorance. Only through the admittance of imperfection could anyone get even remotely close to achieving the opposite. That was why Moric fought, not to gain perfection, for that was impossible. He fought to become a true embodiment of the Force, letting its power and reverence exist through the soul of a mortal being. This was true mastery of the Force. Moric however would have to rely on the faultless perfection of the Force one more time. The mystical energy field did its part to remind the man of the impending attack. Thian's blade almost moved with the very premonition that attuned his perceptions to the danger. The two blades made connection only an instant as Kentam's blade was diverted. Unfortunately for Moric, his off-balance parry left no foundation of strength to stand up to the power of the former Sith's slash. The result left a silver streak heading towards the corner of the room, falling uselessly from its master's hand. The occurrence of such a disadvantage didn't even weigh in the Serpent Lord's mind. Only Jedi and Sith held such devoted attention to weapons. Moric's true skill only came from himself. Using such skill, Moric found himself landing on his back and immediately rolling not away, but towards his enemy. The physically versatile Serpent Lord slashed his legs forward using the gathering momentum to fling himself to his knees, similar to that of a break dancer. The slinging of his legs did not go without consequence however. The Serpent's metal shin slammed into the same appendage of the other Serpent. Despite steeped in muscle, even brawn could not stand to the might of durosteel. Moric centered himself on his knees and delivered a painful elbow into the Sith's gut, raining a mixture of saliva and blood onto the floor below. Using the impact to his fullest advantage, Thian proceeded to flip backwards, rolling out of the range of any counter attack. He took his lightsaber back into his hands and ignited the silver blade once more. Its constant thrumming of light energy provided a direct dichotomy to the heavy breathing of each combatant. "Be wary when you knock someone to floor Kentam. By doing so you minimalize your target while leaving your entire lower half defenseless. Don't worry, you'll get it eventually." A slick smile emerged on the Serpent's face as his words echoed into the oblivion of silence. His arrogant tone was placed quite intentionally hoping to entice that very same attitude lying dormant in the man standing across the room. ((2))

Xentar came towards the Serpent Lord with no lightsaber, but limitless opportunities. One of the essential teachings of the Serpents was that of overdependence on weapons. Xentar at least seemed to harness that much information as he approached Moric. Looking to test the man's abilities, the Serpent Lord produced an easily avoidable slash towards the midsection of Xentar's neck. Not only was his rival able to avoid such a blow, but also countered to impede Moric's next strike. The strategy worked with success as Xentar was able to free himself from any danger. "I see you've improved slightly." Only when the crimson lightsaber sparked to life did the primordial urge within the Serpent Lord activate. It was finally time to engage in the timeless art of battle. The power to end life was now in the palm of each combatant's hand. The question wasn't who would get the win, but who would earn it. To simply swing a lightsaber was not doing justice to the Force, or even the art of battle itself. Each parry and strike with the lightsaber was a carefully practiced and predicted skill; a carefully placed crescendo in an acclaimed symphony or the steady brush stroke of a timeless painting. In battle, there were no accidents. Even in practice, the plasma beam of a lightsaber was deadly. Even though neither Serpent looked to die in this fight, that opportunity still presented itself. Finally Xentar attacked drawing on the Force to propel and add that extra spurt of needed speed and precision to his strikes. Moric followed his lead, moving his lightsaber in a silver blur that weaved a pattern of defense around the man. The two blades were moving so fast that the illusion of a crimson sword poking into a silver wall began to form. The Serpent Lord started give ground, letting Xentar drive him towards the south end of the chamber. Letting the Force be his window, a small alert flashed in his mind. Suddenly, a high attack shot toward's Moric's head with plenty of power attached, too much for Moric to match. The Serpent Lord immediately ducked, sending his lean muscular body to the floor. Due to the speed honed into him sense training, Moric transferred his kenotic energy into a roll. Using the solid metal floor as a makeshift springboard, Moric tumbled his way behind Xentar. The former Sith Lord's unmistakably huge stature unwillingly set limitations on Xentar that Moric did not posess. Moric shot himself to his feet using the Force to propel him into the air. Upon his connection with the ground, he sent a knee into the backside of former Sith Lord. Even without the Force, the knee provided plenty of leverage considering his entire leg was made of alchemic durosteel. The result sent Xentar crashing against the wall now only a foot away from the two combatants. "Harnessing speed with a blade and speed all together are two very different things Xentar." ((1))

I know you can't tell me what you plan to do with it, but you can show me.. The difference between control beliefs and that of professed were quite simple. Professed were what you one, control; how one acted. That was the problem with so many Sith. They profess a love for battle yet they swing the blades and use the Force to soley aim for the kill which leads to rushing of the technique and poor fluidity. That was the difference between going for the fight and for the kill. It was time to see which Xentar would strive for. Moric's silver lightsaber shot to life accopanied by the snap-hiss filling the empy silence of the training room. "You want to truely learn the Serpent ways? Show me you derserve it." Moric kept himself standing back, waiting for whatever improvements Xentar might have made. ((I'll let you post first. Three posts and modded ruling. Lets do dis ))

The apparent meekness exhibited by the Sith seemed only an act to the Serpent Lord. It was funny how Xentar only wanted to put aside their differences when he wanted something. Moric was however, still unconvinced not only in Xentar's seeming conversion into the Serpent ways, but also his intent with using the new power he so desires. The art of battle was was just that. It was the same as music to a musicion and building to an architect. Moric was a fighter, he lived for improvement. Not just for the damage he caused or the pain he inflicted, put for the exhibition of a science so beautiful that only a keen eye was even aware of its value. And Moric knew Xentar held no such eye. Battle for him, was only a mechnizim to cause damage and pain, like it was for all Sith. "Tell me why I teach it to you. What do you plan to do with it?"

Moric's face suddenly shifted into a frown as Xentar spoke. Despite the recent training of the Serpent ways, Moric could still sense the arrogance radiating from the man as prevelant as the Force itself. Apparently killing a few Jedi gave the Sith the right to act as if they were gods. "Is that all you have to say Xentar? If I wanted to know that you didn't like me, I need only ask any living thing in this building." His voice sounded bored as if this very conversation were a waste of time. "I wasn't aware your bitterness towards me was my problem. Do you need a therapist?"

A small Sith fighter made its exit out of hyperspace over the lush world of Chandrila. Within moments, it touched down to the surface landing softly. Moric jumped out, his cloak billowing behind him. He still possesed the mecabre look of death. Within the land of Cardia over the past few weeks, death was but a simple norm. And yet Moric lay in the thick of it, his lightsaber constantly humming. Yet the killing was over as the wartorn Serpent Lord reached his home. Step after step through the Serpent compound led him to a sparring room. The sounds within seemed to entice Moric into following. Inside, he found Garet Jax and Xentar Kentam. "I thought I would run into you eventually."

The thick trees of Cardia finally ceased their enshrouding hold on the Serpent Lord as he finally eased himself into the sun flooded surface of Cardia. The fresh tendrils of battle still eased a sense of foreboding on the lush evergreen landscape. Dried blood still littered the ground as if it too was amoung the asorted echosystems. Yet all this seemed to escape Moric's senses as he trudged through the wilderness. His journy seemed to end however as he finally found what he was for. The charred remains of the Sith Temple stood in view, a testiment to the Sith themselves. Even on the aftermath of a triumph, their temple stood as a bruding form of what it once was desimated by the fires of one of their own. That was the way of the Sith. Their foolish blight upon the galaxy amounted to nothing when they only managed to destroy themselves in the end. What was power when one could not hold it? Yet this thought dissipated as he reached the hanger. The last remaining fighter gleamed in the hanger, its potential as Moric's escape almost cought his attention immediately. Considering the deserted nature of the facility, the Serpent Lord had no trouble acquiring passage into the one-man vessel. With a flip of a switch, the sublight engine filled the hanger with a resounding echoe as it roared to life. A jump into hyperspace soon followed suit.

OOC: Its been three days and you still haven't posted the kill. But since you beat me I am just going to make an escape. It was an awesome duel though. IC: Compassion was one thing, yet mercy was another. Any Sith would have killed the beaten Serpent Lord without a second thought. A Serpent would have done it also having conquered his enemy. Yet the Jedi Master before him was poised for the kill two lightsabers in hand. Yet the very fact that Moric was still alive was a testament to the Jedi Order's weakness. Mercy only gave the enemy a chance to kill again. K'munee seemed perfectly indecisive about his next action, costing him a few seconds to make his decision. And that was all Moric needed. Channeling the Force to him, the Serpent unleashed a powerful blast that cut K'munee's feet out from under him. Most Force blasts were aimed for the chest, yet Moric went for the legs, the result sending the Jedi to the ground. With both combatants on the ground, the Dark Sider snapped his jaw back into place. The pain that coupled with the action was almost unbearable. Yet the current state Moric held proceeded to convert the pain into an even greater state of power. Once the Jedi got to his feet, Moric charged. Displaying a greater sense of speed than the eye could even follow, the Serpent was already upon his prey. His blood stained jaw sunk into the man's wrist like a great Serpent unleashing its poison into its prey. The result caused the man to extend his palm, dropping the sliver lightsaber to the floor. Ducking to the ground, Moric picked up his weapon letting its silver brilliance infest the night once more. Lightsabers clashed again and again as the night continued to perceive the struggle that seemed to last for hours. Feeling fatigue mounting, the Serpent had to move quickly. Having locked the two weapons, Moric quickly placed his free hand onto the wrist of his opponent. Searing flames shot forth burning and tearing through skin instantaneously. The point blank shot kept K'munee from being able to stand against it. The thick tendrils of crimson flame danced across his wrist, palm, and arm, its heat scoring into the skin itself. Nerves and muscles alike seemed to burn and shatter under the intense heat. K'munee's lightsaber feel to the ground having lost the muscles needed to hold it in place. Upon hitting the ground, the Serpent kicked it away leaving it clearly out of reach. The Jedi, now defenseless lay at the mercy of a new being. Yet what Moric exhibited was not mercy, but respect. A Sith would have killed the man immediately, yet Moric was no Sith. The man had proved to be an honorable opponent to the last. He controlled the fight and physically dominated the Serpent Lord. If not for his pyromancy he probably would have been dead hours ago. "When we meet next time Jedi, it is I who will win this fight." With that, the Serpent Lord shot away from the clearing and was gone.

((3)) Vomit poured from the Serpent's mouth like a fountain drenched in chaos. His mind spun leaving any kind of coordination just out of reach. Moric could just make out his opponent standing a few meters away. He was there standing motionless, yet Moric could do nothing to strike at him. The situation itself seemed to mock him as he could do nothing but wraith upon the ground, his own brain lost in the Jedi Master's clutches. K'munee's blatant skill with the Force was surprising, something Moric should have foreseen. The Jedi Master's attack was perfect. It was impossible to defend against with the lightsaber and even his gift of fire could not squelch the pain know rippling through his mind. His head seemed to have a heart beat of its own as it unleashed painful spurt after spurt through Moric's body, as if replacing the very blood in his veins. Any words he tried to speak seemed to be lost to the incoherent chaos now possessing him. Through all the confusion and pain, anger began to surface. Having lost the ability even to control his own mind drove him into a primal almost feral fit of rage. The current attack unleashed by DJK reduced the Serpent to an almost animal like state of intelligence. Yet the Dark Side of the Force however, needed no more in order to work its magic. With an incomprehensible scream spawned by sheer rage, the Serpent Lord sent waves of fire all around him. It flowed through his hands like a title wave of destruction, seething its fury on the trees as well as the grass within a twenty meter radius. Whatever concentration the Jedi Master seemed to possess was lost due to the makeshift hell surrounding him. Tendrils of flame licked their destructive chops on both combatants; yet Moric's immunity left him unscathed. The effects of DJK's mind abduction were still present, yet diminishing with each passing moment. The Serpent Lord, still under its influence possessed a feral facade as well as almost an infused mind with the Dark Side, a terrible combination. Moric launched himself at his target, his lightsaber laying forgotten on the burning grass below. The wanted desire for blood only drove himself further. DJK, having not suspected such a defenseless attack coupled with the seething flames around him could do nothing to stop Moric from pouncing on his prey. The Serpent Lord shot his jaws towards his opponents throat, his ravenous jaw drawing blood as his teeth sunk deeper an deeper closing in on the jugular, and the kill. ((That was such a great duel, thanks for the opportunity. ))

((2)) Moric could only watch as the invisible attack wave slammed into him knocking his wind out immediately. The Serpent lord then proceeded to almost throw himself to the floor, selling the success of the Force push even more. He used the few seconds he had on the ground to regain his breath and composure. He staggered to his feet again, whipping the blood from his forehead. This was exactly the situation he wanted. The Jedi before him could fight and use his head in battle. A Serpent knew never to underestimate a Jedi Knight, a philosophy the Sith had yet to fully comprehend. The two combatants didn't was time with idle words or threats. Blades clashed as yellow met silver. Moric's speed seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive as DJK's precise strokes and leveled intensity brought opportunity knocking. Well placed parries and dodges did nothing for Moric to gain the upper hand, only to keep the battle going for a few more precious seconds. DJK was clearly the superior fighter. Fortunately for the Serpent Lord, superior technique did not always win lightsaber duels. Thinking quickly, Moric feinted to his left and swung his blade towards his opponent's right side. It was an incredibly predictable attack and DJK took it as such. He quickly parried and immediately countered towards Moric's now wide-open and off balanced left side. The yellow blade itself streaked towards the kill but was suddenly halted. Sparks of fire materialized as if from the very atmosphere itself. Spawning from the palm of the Serpent's hand came a pillar of fire ravaging its way to meet the lightsaber only inches away from splitting its target in two. Pyromancy; a gift given by the choas god Tzeentch. The ability to control fire in almost all its forms. The yellow pillar of light continued to latch against pure and unmatched fire as it pressed against an advantage it once possessed. The blade of fire itself possessed the ability to hold even lightsaber at bay ((ask chad for verification)). Moric held the lock, letting the small spurts of cinders emitted from his new blade cause even greater confusion and chaos to the situation. His now free lightsaber lurched towards the Jedi Master, its brilliant arc continuing to lavish the night sky. The silver streak connected with the Jedi's arm already digging into flesh like a rabid dog possessed with blood lust. How deep the wound penetrated however, depended on DJK's ability to react and adapt.

((1)) A beautiful silver streak of pure serene energy shot forth into the empy clearing. The effect would draw in any eye dazziling with its near perfect glow, cascading its brillants into the forest and the grass around the two Force users. Suddenly, the pillar of light itself stopped streaking into the air and halted as if hitting an invisible wall, creating a very smooth and precise blade. The lightsaber was one of the most beautiful and tranquil weapons in the galaxy. Yet its effects are anything but that. The ironies found in even the simplist things seemed to keep the world on its heels. To add yet again to the lrony, was the man wielding it. Moric Thian was not of the light unlike the man before him. Nor was he lost in the shadow contrary to the rest of the Sith around him. He was a carefully crafted being of nautrality trained to use the Dark Side as a tool, but no more. He called apon it only when he needed its aid and let it go just as easy. This particular action would be tough for anyone to manage, yet through extensive training, Moric was able to harnis the dark side without loosing all sense of self. He was a killing machine with compassion, a fighter with heart, a human with a soul. He was a Serepent Lord. Yet he stood before his target primed for battle. Not because killing thrilled him. Fighting for no reason was only a waste of time. He was acclerating his skills through the art of physical conditioning and mental stability. DJK would act as a perfect test for his pudding abilites. A Jedi Master would no doubt provide the opponent he needed to succesfully improve himself. With that thought in mind, Moric sprang forward lofting his lightsaber into the air as he went. A silver arch followed hom almost stretching for meters. This alone was almost a testament to his speed. And just like that, the Serpent Lord was within striking distance. Yet he instead of lashing out, he leaped into the air. Letting the wind as well as the Force he carry him, he landed directly behind the Jedi Master. As if brought on in the same fluid motion, Moric stuck his blade out into a horizontal stab aimed at the center of the Jedi's back.