Twisted Echos (Open Challenge)

[Gitane Van Derveld]

--A cold breeze ran through the air, beating whisps of dark hair across Gitane's face. The Sith Warrior stared out at the night, a hand falling absently to her stomach. Sounds of nocturnal creatures was heard every so often, but never near. She stood at the shallow peak of a twisting mountain, drops of blood splattered on her skin and clothing; lifeless forms stretched out around her. She sighed boredly, glancing at the stars. There had to be more out there than just slaughter...Challenge.. Excitement...Anything new.

She kicked a rock to fall down the cut-away edge and turned around to descend back to her ship. A noise caught her attention briefly. The movement of something abnormal... Gitane looked around with a quiet growl, her saber spliting through the dark air.--

"Show yourself..."

[Jedah Lynch]

"Show myself?"

The low voice faded off in the wind as a slight chuckle was heard off to the side from which the young Sith had first heard the noise. "How can I hide when I have been right here?" Again the voice faded as a small noise was heard in a direction different from the last. "Did the night not speak to tell you?"

That same laugh flowed off the breeze to the Sith Warrior echoing all around her from the mountain. "The dead and dying scream from this ground to let their voices forever be remembered in the ears of all those who may hear." A clawed hand opened and closed shut tightening as it dropped to his side near a sharp metallic blade held in a scabbard adorned by the images of a battle ages old.

"The Jedi are in their bars. Hiding. As always. The spineless creatures that they are. How many have you killed and they were no where to be found as is the situation now?" Slowly moving out of the shadows his black cloak flapped around him moving almost as if an extension of his will weaving around him protectively, first silent it now caused small snapping sounds in the wind as it blew outwards as if wanting to strike her but never moving far from his presence.

Staring into the woman's eyes his own dark green orbs soon vanished into small dark red lights that focused on her. A flap of his cape over his shoulder revealed the Sith in a thin black clad suit that doubled as an ultra light armor protective against small weapons and well suited for stealth when the need to blend in the shadows presented itself.

"Gitane Van Derveld you only need to survive and you will get something for your troubles this night. Fail and you need not worry at all for you shall be dead. The battle is joined, have at you!"

If one blinked they would have missed the Siths hands reaching deep in one fold of his suit to a jewel encrusted dagger finely crafted to cut into the flesh of a person without making a sound during the strike. The sound of her body falling would be a different story he summarized as he hurled the dagger for her face and broke into a run towards her as he gripped an instrument of death in his hand. A lightsaber ready to ignite and slice into her body cutting her down.

[Gitane Van Derveld]

--Gitane had one of two choices; duck under the dagger, but risk being either pummeled, or simply pushed off the edge, or jump and risk being impaled by the dagger. Nearly choosing the second plan, Gitane's mind sparked with an idea. She leapt into the air, her hand shooting out to grasp the dagger's handle as it flew past. She pulled her feet up and rolled in the air, stumbling as she came down shortly behind Jedah.

A cloud of dust whirled into the air as she spun around, her dark turquoise eyes glazed over in a cold stare. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her saber and she shifted her footing back slightly. A thought hit her mind, causing her to question it outloud.--

"Why fight one of your own kind..?"

[Jedah Lynch]

Dark red crimson extended from the hilt he held in his palm, its hum sounding more like a wailing cry. Arching his leg out knocking small rocks against his boot he spun around, an expressionless look on his face except for those eyes that burned red, stepping forward he tossed his lightsaber slightly in the air before him at an angle so that the approaching weapon would obscure her vision blocking her sight of him ever so slightly. Pitched at such a perfect angle the toss gave the impression he still held the weapon in his hand, instead he had ducked into a forward roll to spring to his feet almost directly in front of her.

One hand reached out to grab the airborne lightsaber as a second fist struck her upon the jaw. Again the fist came at her only opened to reveal the mans sharp finger nails that aimed to rake her eyes to blind her. Pulling back his hand he instead brought his fist holding the lightsaber crashing against her mid section, the attack had been made as a diversion while he reached behind his back to remove an ash colored scimitar etched with similar markings to the scabbard that had held the blade seconds before. The blade tore through the air as it made its path towards her side ready to slice deep in her body shedding the young woman's blood on the ground.

[Gitane Van Derveld]

--Gitane stumbled backwards, her teeth gritting as she felt the blade cut against her. She kept making her way back from the man, her hand moving over her eyes in an attempt to see through the blur of red. Her hand was trembling as she slid a dagger from the sheath at her hip. A rock hit against her heels, causing her to stop several feet from Jedah. She held the dagger and saber in front of her, biting her lip nervously.--

[Jedah Lynch]

Blood stained the ash scimitar twisted in his hand ready to tear into her once more, almost eager to drown itself in her life blood to cover its own wicked owners darkness that had forged the blade from a weapon once shattered hundreds of years earlier. Techniques long since lost to history and precious metal combined with Sith sorcery had given life to the dark blade, on the night of its rebirth the scimitar had been bathed in the blood of a dozen souls. Their screams bore word to its divine heritage. The same screams that Gitane Van Derveld would yet yell before silence reigned on the mountain.

With a thrust the lightsaber came in towards the left of her stomach. Knowledge of battles echoing in his mind told him that few wounds caused the amount of pain during the last moments of life than of a tearing in the gut. A Memory played in his mind during another time on the battlefield of a solider raked across the stomach by shrapnel. The most the solider was able to do in those last few labored gasp of breath was attempting to hold his intestine in his hands as they spilled out.

Following the thrust the Sith brought the ash scimitar slicing low ready to rake her stomach, his gaze bore down on her in a scowl that held no mercy. How would she react to see the contents of of her stomach pour out over the ground. The thought caused his brow to twitch in anticipation, if she was slow enough to fall prey to the strike than realization of her stomach ripped wide open would vanish as he took the head from her shoulders.

[Gitane Van Derveld]

--Gitane sputtered and threw herself backwards, tumbling down the slope in attempt to escape Jedah's attacks. Dirt and grime mixed with her blood, her chest heaving for air as the tattered form slowed to a stop some distance away. She was nearly trembling as she wearily found her footing. Her eyes shifted up the hill as Gitane grasped at the dagger silently. Despite the pain thriving in her body, the dark turquoise of her eyes held an intruged respect. She knew quite well that within minutes, her life would lie in his hands...Yet she was somehow enchanted with his movements. Her voice, weak and broken, uttered with a hushed tone.--

"Teach me..."

[Jedah Lynch]

Wrapping his cloak around him the Sith broke off in a run, his strides taking him towards the slope where Gitane had thrown herself down to escape the killing blades. Leaping into the air the cloak all around him the dark warrior was sure of his course, one that lead him into a collision course with the female Sith. Moving his arm up behind the cover of the cloak he positioned his elbow to ram into the womans upper chest with his own weight thrown fully into the move.

She had been where he anticipated and their collision went as planned, unable to dodge his sudden appearance the two collided sending each of them sprawling against the slope tumbling further down its side. Pieces of rock and sticks tore at his cloak and suit giving several bruises yet hardly any major cuts or wounds for worse.

A hand instantly went to the hilt of his scimitar he had sheathed in the safe confines of the scabbard before taking the jump down the slope. A bold move if not slightly suicidal it had not been the most practical tactic to use in a fight, still he could not deny the thrill to have pulled it off daring to risk becoming impaled on her weapon if he failed. Fail he did not, breath still escaped from his lips.

Scanning the area with his eyes he looked for the form of Gitane, one of the follies of the move meant he had lost precious seconds worth of direct contact with his target. An error, the type a rookie would make. For the skilled warrior it was a game, a challenge. Still he not given himself a full disadvantage, the impact with the female would have left her taking the worse out of the impact by a large margin. Had she readied herself after the initial strike he wondered. The thought of finding her already broken and beaten did not appeal to him, not when there was so much more to do. His blade still ached for the taste of her blood echoing the need within his own soul.