Consolidation Litanies of the Dark Side: Heralds of Ruin

[Eosfor]

The burned hacks on his armour bled electricity, as the torn cybernetic intestines cried out leaking energy from its already stressed systems beneath. The wounds, though, regardless of the pain caused, the mindless fury far too overwhelming to allow the Dark Lord acknowledgement of the damage suffered. And yet, regardless the many wounds delivered, the Dark Lord couldn't bring himself to slay the Jedi, for her determination had marked him as deep as the wounds her lightsaber did. Her skill was no rarity. Yet, her valor, was...

"You are a flame, young one."

The twisted growl of the Dark Lord sounded with a mechanical undertone, disturbed by the malfunctioning voice chip, due to a mark by Roshia's lightsaber in the upper throat of the Dark Lord.

"The Dark Side consumes you. Kills the air around you..."

As his almost repetitive choreography of motions, maintaining his defensive stance, continued, he searched for an opening in her strikes. A fault of fatigue, or exhaustion, that would allow him to reach out and twist the Force around her to squeeze her trachea shut.

"Fire cannot live without air... It will be swallowed in the dark, until only embers remain..."

His unstable blade suddenly bursted in action. His once defensive Makashi stance rapidly changing, as the Dark Lord finally went to the offensive. The trial was over.

One after the other, the successive strikes descended upon the Jedi, roaring in wrath and plasma. He would now see the Jedi fall. He would see the fire starved... into submission.

 

[Roshia Chamiane]

There were moments where Roshia thought she had come so close to victory, the few times she'd managed to pierce his body with lightsaber, or the one strike against his throat that ruined the breathing apparatus attached to his mask, so infuriatingly close, a few inches closer and she would have taken his head from his shoulders.

His words fell on deaf ears, she did not acknowledge them or respond to them, remaining solely focused on their duel. Unwavering focus even through her body's escalating fatigue. When the Dark Lord finally switched to more offensive, hard hitting attacks, Roshia was forced to move fully defensively, becoming focused on keeping herself defended from the barrage of attacks.

Eventually, she faltered.

One powerful downward strike broken through Roshia's attempted block. She instinctively moved back, but had been too sluggish to completely dodge the attack. It left a deep laceration from her left shoulder slanting down to the right side of her upper torso. A severe wound, had she been any closer, it would have sliced her in half and killed her instantly.

Roshia stumbled back away from him, dropping the lightsaber she held on her left hand. All she felt was searing pain and a coldness washing over her body. She did not dare look down to see the extent of her wound, her gaze was on the lightsaber she had dropped. Roshia stumbled on her, yet refused to fall on her knees even as she slowly lost all of her strength and still gripped her shoto-lightsaber tightly, even if she knew it was the end.

She looked up at the Dark Lord, the fight and valor in her eyes still apparent even as her lips paled and vision blurred. Roshia could continue her futile attempts at fighting, or wait for him to land the killing blow. She did not want to give him that satisfaction, she could not defeat him or his army, he had won the battle on Kerideph, and slaughtered hundreds of her fellow jedi.

But, there was one thing she could deny him of.

Roshia raised her shoto-lightsaber and plunged the blue glowing blade into her body and tore it out soon after. Lips curling into one last smirk at him, as she landed the final blow on herself.

At least, that is what Roshia thought as she finally collapsed back on the ground, gazing up at the grayed skies as she teethered on the edge of consciousness.