Das Malefitz

[Apillis]

There were many things Hervor thought about with the ongoing events, but chief among them all was how that they will not matter in the end. Her view of time and all that transpires as it drudges onward was that everyone's ambitions were superfluous. If the Republic falls to the Sith, the galaxy will shift--but for how long? If the Sith lose to the Republic yet again, then it will be nothing more than another footnote in history, and chalked up as another grand cautionary tale for the Jedi to preach against indulging the yearning of the dark side. An ongoing repetition set in motion by a will and mystery none touched the Force have fully wrapped their minds around, and likely never will, which makes the machinations of Jedi and Sith useless and over-inflated.

If anything the longevity of her people granted her, it was being able to perceive that reality from her over a century's worth of living. For her people she may still be relatively young--just hitting her stride in her prime, but to others they seem to see her as old. In a way Hervor found it a bit amusing, because in a way she saw their lifespans to be something akin to kath hounds: short and without perspective and self-awareness. But time is relative.

But in a way she saw the great equalizer with time was erosion. When something stagnates it erodes, which has been the cause of death of many warriors who have managed to live long lives. Complacency in their skills and talents for having lived as long as they have on the battlefield, they start practicing less than they did--sometimes even stop all together, and then time begins its work eroding once keen ability into dull bravado. A fate Hervor refused to allow herself to become victim to, for she defined herself as a warrior, and if she were to die as one--it will be while her ability is at its finest and sharpest it can possibly be.

Many Sith who are of the more... scholarly nature... often prefer to seclude themselves within the dark recesses of their dwellings to meditate and brood. Despite having been prone to academia and lifetimes worth of study and learning, hence why she was an archivist in the first place, she never saw the wisdom in the stillness of sitting and meditating. In a way, she saw the stillness of sitting and meditating as being lazy. Meditation, after all, is a state of mind, and it can be achieved not just through stillness, but activity. Just as the mind controls the action of the body, and the mind's will channels and controls the power of the Force, it too can also displace itself for greater focus while in action. In fact, that is what marks the best lightsaber duelists, and why many fall into meditative practices, but she always practiced doing so while in constant motion of training her martial abilities. So while in combat, falling into that state of complete focus becomes all that much more natural.

That is... at least... until she sets in the discord of dark rage... and intense focus becomes... something other... something monstrous.

Since she had chosen to venture out of the dark, dusty old archives of the temple that she had been spending so much time within attempting to rebuild them from the ravaged state they were in caused by time and during such having been plundered repeatedly by the stupid and short-sighted. Her training sessions she had been commencing in the common training areas of the temple amidst the initiates, some times even giving the casual lesson in martial combat, and today was no different, however, she gave no lessons this day. Instead, she merely trained to extents that would many an Olympic athlete cringe. Hours in the day spent non-stop, no breaks, just training and sweating within the grand stone walls of the temple's areas.

Her old, worn white cloak tossed aside as she trained, with it--hiding much of her body she merely looked like a slim, statuesque figure. But without it, her lithe, willowy figure was revealed to be an incredibly lean, tone athletes build, and the beads of sweat dripping down her body only served to accent her tone lean muscle definition. The body is a machine, after all. And Hervor has always sought to tune hers to run at peak performance.

She paused for a trice, however, while practicing her Juyo technique. With her spidery, calloused slender fingers she tossed back her short red hair wet from sweat. From the corner her eye, she saw enter the training area a familiar figure. She had largely utterly ignored the initiates present, but the one who that had just stepped into the scene certainly was no initiate by any stretch of the imagination.

A small smile formed on Hervor's lips as her black orbs with red irises fell upon the figure. Eyes are windows to the soul they say, and in the intense fiery red irises surrounded by darkness one could say are perfect reflection of what Hervor's soul has long become.

Her smile grew a dash more as she remarked to the individual that had just arrived, "No amount of training will toughen a soft heart, Vesperia...", a tease, a goad, light-hearted mockery. Sure. Why? Well, why not? Curiosity, perhaps.

[Dire Wolf]

The clack of heavy boots against the stone floor was punctuated by a third one, this one far more metallic. Adara had recently hatched her little scheme to Darth Iniquitous. The republic had sent out more than their fair share of dignitaries in a vain attempt to hold onto their outer rim worlds, and Adara decided it was high time that their attempts had ceased. These convoys were rarely heavily defended and often times carried very important senators. Adara was a corsair in her youth, and she still held to the mindset of one. Any chance to relive the glory days of her privateer enterprise was more than welcome.

Darth Iniquitous needed time to think on the issue, however, and thus she decided to engage in physical training rather than wait at his feet like some kind of pathetic canine. Her stride was precise and almost predatory as she walked through the corridors of the Sith Temple, as she knew that there were a select few within its triangular confines who could even hope to challenge her power. Men and women alike moved around her like a river against a great stone, no matter how powerful or arrogant they believed themselves to be. Why? Because she was a Sith Lord. There were five others that she knew of, and only a few could challenge her martial might or command of the Force.

Adara Caen had just entered one of the large training rooms when an intoxicating dark presence flitted about the edges of her awareness. This presence was of Lady (or Lord as she insisted to be called) Allvitende, and for a moment she recalled back to the last time they had exchanged words. Adara had interceded in the murder of an idiotic student who had, as far as she'd known, dropped off of the face of the world afterwards. Had he exchanged insults with another of her peers and been killed because of it? Likely not. Killings rarely happen within the Sith Order, and when they do Adara takes care to hear about it.

She puts absolutely zero stock in the ability to trust her fellow Sith. Be they her subordinates, leaders, or peers. The history of the Sith was rife with fratricide along with cloak and dagger machinations. Adara had no interest in engaging in such foolishness, which is part of the reason why she had elected to take on no students as of yet. Adara was interested in becoming free, truly free, and the only way to accomplish that was to become powerful. Before Adara could decide whether she wanted to spar or engage in her own practice session Allvitende's called out to her.

Soft heart. Pah. The Sith Lady snorted before traveling the short distance between the two. Adara's stoic, icy blue eyes met with the woman's fiery gaze where the opposing nature's seemed to clash for a moment. Yet hatred or anger didn't grip Adara's heart. Curiousity and interest, perhaps, but no hatred. The Sith Lady's eyes broke with Hervor's to flick up and down her sweaty, well defined form before holding the gaze once again.

"Oh, excuse me, did I venture into the geriatrics wing?" Adara's eyes were somewhat playful despite the stoic and nonplussed look on her face. The Sith Lady's body was statuesque and almost nordic, much like the other woman's, but her skin held a much healthier tone. That all too familiar blue sash clung tightly to her defined muscular form. Elegant fingers clutched onto the staff just a little harder as she prepared to defend herself from the attack that would surely come soon.

[Apillis]

Vesperia's retort elicited a little bit of a chuckle out of Hervor, "You know what all of your short-lived existences are like to me? Like a blur when passing someone by. There one second, gone the next. Hardly ever even worth remembering. Lives snuffed out so quick, whereas I'm just beginning to hit my stride."

As Hervor moved at a slow pace closing the distance between herself and Vesperia, her eyes slowly looked up and down the woman's tall, tone, slender physique. The pace in her steps were like a slow moving shark observing its prey just before the strike. When a predator has grown to be too much to where its normal prey and other creatures of its dwelling becomes unsatisfactory, they turn their gaze to other predators... And Hervor has always been quite a physical hunter... but no hunt is fun without a challenge.

The challenge must be there, and a personality like Hervor demands it to be. For the victory of the conquest only becomes all the sweeter to the pallet when won through adversity, and the burning hunger becomes all the most sated and fulfilled. What sort of challenge could Vesperia provide her, Hervor wondered. There were not many in the galaxy who could give her a true challenge, the number Hervor had personally met in her entire lifetime she could count with one hand. And one of those stood right before her in this moment, and a slight lick of upper lip at the sight and intriguing idea of the challenge of the hunt the woman could provide her was too much for Hervor to turn her gaze away from. There was a darkness to the tall raven haired woman, and enveloped in shadow as Hervor herself is, it was impossible for her not to seek to explore what was before her.

The strange creature of an archivist had already noticed the subtle tightening of Vesperia's grip on her staff from the peripheral of her sharp sight. It was only natural that one huntress would know what another was up to, and that made the hunt all the more enticing to engage.

With a dark tone and sinister smile, Hervor uttered to her peer, "With a fragile, merciful heart... how much of a blur will you be before becoming nothing more than another forgotten memory?"

The action was swift and powerful, for the initiates--near impossible to follow by sight alone, for if they blinked--they missed it. But the action in of itself seemed near instantaneous. With an abrupt unnatural swiftness, she was right there face to face with Vesperia, one hand grasping the woman's staff just above where the woman gripped it herself. With a violent pull on the woman's staff in an attempt to pull Vesperia toward her, Hervor followed through with a knee she sought to embed into the abdomen of her comely, raven-haired peer.

Was it an impromptu sparring match? An actual fight? To the outside observer, like the initiates present--it may have been difficult to tell. But it would not be too much to say that the two warrior women--they knew exactly what they were engaging in with one another before it ever started. Communication, after all, is not limited to words.

[Dire Wolf]

Adara quirked a brow at the woman's response, and had been about to verbally riposte when she noticed Allvitende's tongue gently glide across her upper lip. Despite this the elderly (though youthful) Sith Lady seemed to be viewing Adara as a hunter would her prey. She knew this because it was the same look she wore in her youth, back when her nights were spent prowling the dives and the streets for some new piece of meat to indulge in. That hapless person would inevitably be found the next day in some dumpster in a very different manner in which they found him or her in.

Allvitende spoke once again, but the soft feminine tone was heard through some imperceptible barrier who's existence was limited to Adara's mind. A sudden rush of adrenaline caused the world to slow as the Force warned her of an imminent danger. This was not enough. Even with this heightened perception her adversary moved far too quickly for the woman to process what had happened, let alone react and counter. Fortunately there was no searing blade of plasma lodged in her sternum and nor was there a second mouth torn into her neck.

What happened next was more instinct rather than proactive response. The instant that Allvitende's hand wrapped around the staff Adara's free hand grasped the opposite end just before she stepped backwards while making a pair of concentric circles in the air with Allvitende's end of the staff. It was physically impossible to hold on.

"By the end of this day my fragile heart will be one worth remembering, and certainly more than a mere blur, I suspect." A small smirk spread the woman's lips thin as her staff turned into a dull golden blur that spun around her body like a buzz saw. Adara's hair whipped and fussed about in the wind created by the staff as it spun around her body at the command of her fingertips. A few moments passed before the whirling staff halted, and a brilliant blue blade of plasma erupted from one end. It thrummed gently and cast a soft azure light against all that was near it, even as she turned its ferocity down from a lethal to a more training oriented one.

Those icy blue eyes met the crimson orbs of her opponent before lunging forward with a simple trio of jabs at her center mass. Adara would have not only been surprised but disappointed if any of the three connected. Her interest was a fickle thing, and so few creatures have ever managed to hold it for longer than a few fleeting moments.

[Apillis]

Hervor's eyes flashed wide the moment the staff was spun out of her grip. Quickly she jumped backward to evade the wide swing of the spinning staff. When the all too recognizable hum of a blade of light burst into existence, there was no hesitation in Hervor's reaction. A century of lightsaber training as a duelist to a honed ability that many Jedi and Sith alike can only wish to possess, has elicited her reactions to become unconscious. Not having to dwell for a second on thinking what to do next, but just simply knowing what to do next. As a jab of a blade of blue light came at her chest Hervor had already taken hold of her own blade that had been clipped to her belt hanging of her slim waist.

The bright orange blade ignited the moment Vesperia's initial jab came at her chest scarcely deflecting it away. The rapid fire of the next couple jabs were just as difficult to parry, but that is what made it all the more thrilling to her--wanting to engage more. Like the prey-drive of a predator, the more Vesperia willing to resist and fightback Hervor's will and assaults--the more Hervor wanted to engage.

"Let's see you make those words reality, Vesperia", Hervor retorted with her husky, dark tone of voice. Hervor's mastery with a blade was an infusion of three different styles. Her defensive blocks and parries were of Djem So, but its techniques demand a counter-attack, but the form of those counters were of the ferocity of the lesser known Juyo; but the swift footwork she utilized that enabled her to adroitly spin around Vesperia's last jab of her lightsaber-pike after it had been deflected was of Ataru. The Juyo styled counter-strike itself as she gripped her blade in both hands cross-slashed not at Vesperia's torso, but rather at her left arm.

But it was also then followed through with Hervor's main assault. While the quick, light stepped footwork of Ataru remained--her attacks were all wrought from the intense, savagery of Juyo. The first was a horizontal backslash perfectly following through from the cross-slash counterattack--though this strike was aimed at Vesperia's abdomen. The last was an upward cross-slash directed right for Vesperia's head. The power behind each of the three strikes, and even her deflections were ogreish in their strength by Hervor's augmenting her raw physical strength through her will in the Force.

But that is the way she likes to keep things, physical and forceful without pretense or even finesse. Keep it with the blunt honesty of the physical being to which she relishes. Many Sith and Jedi think too much on the raw power of the Force in her mind, for the Force can be utilized to accomplish many things, wielding its power like the fabled sorcerers of yore--or augmenting one's own being to accomplish feats beyond the human ideal. Hervor had always been one to lean toward the latter despite her great power in wielding the dark side itself, for she sees using the power that the Force can provide to augment the physical being keeps one grounded to the material while understanding the metaphysical. Too often Sith and Jedi alike get sucked into the pseudo-intellectualism and faux loftiness of fancying themselves as grand wizards or shaman.

Was Vesperia anything like them, she wondered. Hervor did not know the woman too well, but then again, judging from the statuesque Epicanthix's tone physique, she may not all that different from herself. Albeit, she does seem to carry herself with a certain high-brow view and lofty composure.

Hervor with a snicker from an observant thought that entered her mind to which she remarked upon, "So detached... That calm placidity... With that soft-hearted disposition of yours... Vesperia, you may as well be a Jedi. If nothing else, you could do with a bit more passion in your life."

[Dire Wolf]

As Allvitende deftly spun around Adara's jab, the latter of the two recalled her lightsaber spear and twisted the staff around in a circular motion. The phrik plated staff deflected the would be slash as well as the follow through horizontal one. As the final blow came crashing towards her head the woman continued to spin her staff and deflect it upwards while sending the butt of her spear towards Allvitende's abdomen with the same motion. All three of her adversary's attacks carried a surprising amount of strength behind them, and it took a little more finesse than the Sith Lady had been used to. She had crossed blades with her fair share of Force users (sans Jedi), and the woman could safely say that she had never dealt with a woman, or man, quite like Allvitende.

"Jedi," she snorted in derision, "acting solely off of my rage and my passions has gotten me nearly killed dozens of times. It blinds me to all else that is moving as I focus on the object." That staff continued to spin concentric circles with the brilliant blue blade thrumming in the wind as she lashed it at Allvitende's knee. Whether parried or evaded, the staff continued to twirl until it seemed to wrap around her neck. At this point she wrapped her hand around the butt of the staff and struck out at Allvitende's neck.

Adara was very much a warrior, and while part of her did find things such as meditation and quiet inflection useful she much preferred meditation through combat. Her face wore an icy and tranquil mask that belied the pure fury beneath her skin. In her travels she had found that the exertion of cool professionalism could inspire just as much if not more fear than fiery rage. Abraxas, her old master, had always told her that fear cuts deeper than swords.

He was right. No creature was immune to fear, and once enough fear set in her quarry would brake and run or give up entirely. At the very least mistakes were made. Fear was a powerful tool, and it was a thing that Adara had mastered. To go against an enemy that was stoic and impossible to read could be a very terrifying thing, and while the opposite end of the spectrum had its uses... she simply preferred her own method.

"I do agree with you on one point, though," she punctuated the concession with a final butt-end jab aimed at Allvitende's sternum. "I could certainly use more passion. You have something in mind to follow up on that, I trust?"

[Apillis]

The whirling staff with its blade of blue light Hervor narrowly jumped over, but the her eyes widened a bit as it came swinging back around directed at her neck. While still mid-flight from jumping over the staff a fraction of a second ago, she barely was able to bring up her blade to deflect the attack. The force of the attack with her in the air and no foundation to brace herself, despite it being deflected, still knocked her out of the air. Saved only by her agility she landed on her feet with a clumsy slide across the stone floor of the training arena.

"I do agree with you on one point, though. I could certainly use more passion. You have something in mind to follow up on that, I trust?", Hervor grinned but it was only for a second, it vanished by her surprise of the swift attack of the butt of Vesperia's staff coming right for her sternum. Moving as fast as she was able, she redirected the attack away from herself instantly following it up with a whirling strike for Vesperia's neck, which brought the two quite close to one another, almost intimately so. The brilliant orange beam of her blade stopped mere inches from Vesperia's neck, but from her peripheral Hervor could see Vesperia's luminous blue blade. It was clear, the two Sith Lord women simultaneously had one another dead to rights.

Hervor switched off her blade as she moved in perhaps uncomfortably close to Vesperia as she answered the woman's question with her natural dark, husky tone though this time with a bit of a sensuality to it, "Many things... Vesperia...", gently with her left hand she brushed a couple strands of Vesperia's bangs out of her face while moving so close their bodies were pressed together as Hervor quietly whispered in Vesperia's ear--her lips nearly grazing against the woman's ear as her breath licked against her skin, "Many.", she repeated driving the point home.

But in the next instant Hervor backed off, clipping her lightsaber as it was grasped in her right hand back onto her belt. Vesperia was right, though, she certainly left enough of an impression to be remembered. Hervor was left to concede as she walked away back to where she left her cloak, "You were right, though, Vesperia... It's certainly worth remembering. Few have been able to push me as you just did... I quite liked it."

She smiled at little as she looked back at Vesperia, "But I disagree with you about not utilizing your rage in battle, because it has nearly gotten you killed. The presence of the ultimate dilemma is what makes thriving on your own passions so enticing. It's a constant struggle--a constant battle--a constant challenge, without the challenge the ultimate dilemma brings before us, everything is left to the pestilence of stagnation. All becomes dull. It's because of our passion that makes us stronger than Jedi, take that weapon away from yourself, and all that's is the dull and diluted feeling of existing without motion. That reality holds true in everything... from combat, to studying, to even living, and especially certain...", she looked upon Vesperia as she smiled a little, "...other pursuits."

In a way, it was a bit humorous as while she is having this conversation with Vesperia with all the innuendo it entails, or event he brief battle before it, Hervor took absolutely no notice to the initiates also training there. They were merely background--less than even furniture to her in this moment. Her focus was entirely on the moment of her interaction with Vesperia.

[Dire Wolf]

The spar ended just as quickly as it began, it seemed. In a flash her attack was redirected and the dull thrum of Allvitende's blade screamed in Adara's ears. She had not lost, though, as her own was mere inches away from her adversary's neck. A small smirk appeared on the woman's face as her icy gaze met with Allvitende's fiery one, and yet the opposing forces didn't clash. It was then that the woman could smell the fragrance of the shampoo used in Allvitende's hair mixed with the smell of sweat and ozone from the burning lightsabers.

All three scents lingered even after the lightsabers had been called back into their respective hilts. Yet Hervor did not pull away, but instead spoke in a dark and husky tone that caused the taller woman's breath to quiver. It didn't help that she brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and pressed her soft yet firm body against Adara's. The light silk wrap that clung to her form would feel soft against the other Sith Master's flesh, and would do little to shield her from Adara's warmth. Her face was a mask of stoicism as Hervor's warm breath brushed against her neck and voice graced her ear.

Except for the small, almost imperceptible smirk that pulled one side of her lips thin.

Which disappeared the instant that Hervor pulled away, clipped the lightsaber to her belt, and went back to retrieve her cloak. Adara would have frowned if it were possible for her to do so. An apathetic mask was worn in its stead, save for the slight arch of a brow at Hervor's remark. "'Tis a skill, my dear Allvitende, and perhaps there will be other opportunities for me to provide you with a more vivid memory."

Adara reflected on Allvitende's words for a trice, "wise words, however our greatest strength has also been our greatest weakness. Passion has ultimately lead to the downfall of many a Sith regime in the past. Our own is no different. Allowing notions of self entitlement and anarchy within our ranks send us into civil war during peace and after war.. The same will happen again, and when it does the Republic will rise out of the its ashes like a veritable phoenix to reclaim what is hers. Something must be changed if this is an Empire that will stand the test of time.

"Though," the smirk returned, "I may be interested to know just how you intend to bring passion to this frail and icy heart." It was somewhat amusing to add such blatant innuendo to her retorts, but she would be lying if she told herself that it was for only amusement. The other apprentices were noted, some even had the audacity to hazard a glance their way, but Adara didn't care for the whisperings of weaklings and ingrates. Especially those who had submitted to being ruled by her and her peers.

[Apillis]

It was impossible for Hervor not to smile in reaction to Vesperia's reply, Hervor in a way was flattered that Vesperia was indulging the innuendo and whimsical implications. The severe edge Hervor tends to keep most at an arms length with or much, much further from her, tend to keep most away. Though, Hervor tended to prefer that, keeping others too fearful to pester her, so she could approach them on her terms, not theirs. But, this banter and discussion with Vesperia was refreshing and it was nice to at least speak with someone on even ground for a change--a peer, essentially. Though by the way the two spoke with one another, perhaps in time something more.

But she understood where Vesperia, and even Iniquitous who seems to be seeking the same thing with the Sith, are coming from. Keep the Sith from killing one another via being driven by dark impulses and passions--the need not just challenge the power of their enemies but one another, often leading to the grand empires of yore to crumble. However, from the perspective on an archivist and having studied galactic lore and the very dark side they wield for as long as she has, she saw such ambitions as futile, "I know the belief of keeping everything in check--prevent the recklessness of rage and hate from destroying yet another Sith Empire. It's sound wisdom. But suppressing our passions is not in our nature."

She picked up her cloak and begun folding the old, worn thing with great care as if were garment of fine lavish silk, despite its ragged appearance. As she did she went on to say, "The dark side is rage, hate, aggressive, fear--driven by a need for dominance... It can be controlled with a small number... for a time, but as time progresses and numbers swell and new generations are wrought. Power over each member minimizes, and that's when the decrees set in the past mean much less as time erodes away at them. It's inevitable. It's fighting a nature of something far, far more reaching and ancient than any other existence--it's a nature wrought from time in memorial. Even the wisest and most powerful Sith and Jedi call it 'the great mystery' for a reason, and to resist the nature it sets in motion is useless. There's a reason why it's much easier to make a Jedi fall to rage, aggression, hatred... violence; and far more difficult to make one who has fallen turn to the placid stillness of the light."

Hervor smirked a little, "It's always important to remember that empires... they rise and fall regardless of how they are governed. The Sith fall, then we come back stronger than we did before each and every time. That's evolution. Not regression. Whether this Sith Empire succeeds or fails this cycle is immaterial, it's merely a byproduct of something far greater at work.", she maintained her slight smirk, "Resisting the fall is futile. If you are falling... dive."

Hervor chuckled at herself a little for babbling as much as she has, "Ugh... All of it will sort itself out in time. It doesn't need my blathering on.", with her folded cloak, she draped it over her left forearm as she approached Vesperia once again, stopping so only inches were between the two fit, statuesque women Sith Lords, "My own nature is driven utterly by passion, Vesperia... Just how much are you willing to indulge? Or are you hoping I'll just deprive the choice from you and show you?", Hervor at last remarked finally responding to Vesperia's last comment.

[Dire Wolf]

A small smirk graced the woman's lips as her fellow Sith Lady offered a retort before she stepped away to collect her worn white cloak. That smirk grew in size, but not by much, as Allvitende folded it over her forearm and drew close. Intimately so. Adara had never noticed the height difference between the two women before then. She stood at least four or five inches taller than the fiery haired woman at best guess, though she had grown used to being taller than the people around her. Especially her fellow women.

"And mine own is certainly not one driven by passion, Allvitende. Though... I suppose it would be possible to convince be to indulge. Or..." she paused as she moved her face close enough to Hervor's that their lips were practically touching. The hot air of her breath washed against the woman's face, just as Allvitende's breath licked at her own.

A small smile crept upon the Sith Lady's face as her vision was eclipsed by beautifully pale face of her peer, "or... you could simply take what you desire. In truth, I do not care which you choose."

Before anything else could take place, Adara pulled away from the woman. A few of the initiates and lesser Sith had taken notice of the two Sith Ladies. She could only imagine the thoughts that crossed their weak minds, and absolutely no iota of her cared. They were, all of them, weak and lesser beings. They hardly qualified as people and were far better suited as cannon fodder while their betters did battle.

"Though the choice is yours, Allvitende," the woman said through a slight smile as her hand lifted itself to Hervor's face, and an elegant finger traced the scar on her cheek. Stray locks of her fiery hair was brushed aside and was tucked behind her ear before that hand fell away to her side once more.

[Apillis]

It would be a lie to say that Hervor was not a little taken aback by Vesperia's moving into her personal space, closing the distance between them for an intimate whispering. She did not expect that from Vesperia, but she was enthralled by the colliding of their warm breath, and the soft touch of it tumbling across their skin. An intense burning welled up in Hervor's chest--a combination of need and want wrought from a primal and base passion in every animal. The lovely Epicanthix Sith Lord had a few inches on her in height, but Hervor only found that a little more appealing as she turned her gaze upward a little to meet the woman's own. It was seldom that Hervor ever had to given her own height, it was a refreshing disposition of its own arrangement for Hervor.

Her words, her touch... they were both a challenge and an offer that Hervor driven by her more primal and darker impulses only felt compelled to meet head on. An animalistic want that she continued feed within herself, and when Vesperia pulled away--a twinge of frustration struck her. That... Hervor did not care for that... not in the least. The offer was made, no more teasing--she wanted what was there and offered for her to take.

The action was quick--and it was forceful, she thrust herself onto the woman, locking her lips with Vesperia's with a bestial sensuality. It was only a couple seconds into the collision of their bodies that Hervor forced them both the stone floor of the training arena. Idle explorative hands caressing the firm, tight, and long form of the dark haired Sith Lord. Hervor parted her lips with Vesperia only to briefly teeth teasingly at Vesperia's ear. Momentary as the tease was, her lips gently grazed down the side of Vesperia's face to her neck, where Hervor begun sucking at her flesh with a vampiric vigor.

It was just as she begun to tug and pull at Vesperia's clothes that she paused--regaining a sense of self from the primal beast that had run a bit wild with carnal desire. Straddling Vesperia's pelvis, Hervor raised her torso with an arched back, smiling down at Vesperia under her. Hervor's breath was heavy with intoxication of burning for more of the woman... But not here... as much as she wanted to... she was aware it would be best to take this to a more private setting, despite her fighting every compulsion to pounce the raven-haired beauty once again. The initiates may be less than background to her at the moment, but she recognize the training area was the best place to indulge such... needs.

Slowly she lowered herself back down on top of Vesperia, running her fingers through silky raven hued hair as she delivered one more lasting kiss to indulge the desire of the feeling and taste of those lips once more. The second their lips parted Hervor whispered--her breath still heavy with carnal impulses gripping her tightly, "My quarters...", she then finally managed to pry herself away from Vesperia, heading back to her quarters within the temple, and hoping Vesperia will not keep her waiting long...

[Dire Wolf]

Before the Sith Lady knew it she found herself on the ground with her lips locked against Allvitende's in a bestial kiss. Hervor's lips were surprisingly soft despite her pale and cracked skin. The slight amount of pain she felt from being tackled to the floor was quickly forgotten as the pressure of a pair of hands in exploration was felt against her, and Adara found her own hands testing the curves of her fellow Sith in return. Icy blue eyes slid shut as Hervor's lips broke the kiss and she felt the slight pressure of teeth against her ear, and lips grazing along her face.

When Allvitende's lips trailed their way down to Vesperia's neck and began to suck her breath grew deep and ragged. One hand found its way behind the woman's neck and beneath her hair to gently brush along the hairline, and the other continued its exploration. Heat flushed towards the otherwise stoic woman's face and one final soft sight pushed its way out past her lips before Allvitende pulled away. Though she could still feel the shorter woman's weight upon her hips, and she gently opened her eyes to see Hervor's arched form before her.

Vesperia's hands instinctively found their way to Hervor's hips just before the woman bent down to kiss her once more. The heat in her face and in her heart only grew with this passionate touch, and her arms wrapped around the woman's back to press their bodies together. The woman was prepared to indulge in the sudden flash of carnal needs right then and there on the cold stone floor, but it seemed the shorter woman had other plans.

The Sith Lady's mind quickly burst with the possibilities of the next few hours once her ear was filled with Hervor's husky and desire filled voice. Two words was all that the pale Sith Lady had to utter for the dark maned woman to understand, and a light smile spread her lips thin. She lie there for a long moment, even after Hervor stood and left, to revel in the feelings that had gone dormant for so long. Almost a minute passed before she rose to her feet, collected her staff, and followed her pale companion.

By the time she reached Allvitende's quarters she heard the soft patter of water against porcelain and flesh. That slight smirk returned to her face as she stepped through the door and locked it behind her.