Post by Nomak on Mar 22, 2010 19:56:35 GMT -5
Name: Nomak Krell
Race: Human
Age: 28
Height:6'2"
Weight:180 lbs
Appearance: A tall, fairly youthful man of predatory build. Nomak is an athletic gentlemen in his late twenties. Broad-shouldered and narrow waisted, his body is well muscled through years of dedicated training.
Nomaks facial structure is gaunt and almost feminine. Delicate, high cheekbones, a slender jaw and shallow cheeks give him an almost 'pretty' appearance. While his features lack masculinity it would be hard to mistake him for a woman. His nose is slender and delicate, his eyes slightly slanted, almond shaped and a striking emerald colour in tone. His hair is as black as night and falls to his waist. He tends to either keep his hair naturally flowing or braided in the style of various races.
Personality: Driven if not somwhat arrogant. Nomak enjoys being in control. Utterly sure of himself, his confidence can be over-powering and he tends to speak very sharply and always to the point. In conversation he is a man of few words, his few sentances always straight to the point.
Nomak does not consider himself 'evil' but will never shy away from his goal no matter what he has to do to achive them. Murder, robbery, intimidation and black-mail are merely tools at his disposal. He will happily break the law in pursuit of goals and can even at times be a tad cruel.
On the flip side Nomak has been known to help on the odd occasion. A man ruled by whims and emotions he can easily be fooled or otherwise distracted from goals by anothers plight and takes a particular fancy to things he consider's " Dramatic". He also has a deep love of being on the losing side, and will take up arms for a cause simply because they are the under-dogs.
Birth place: Korriban
Faction: Dark Jedi
Rank:Knight
Bio: Born on the dusty tomb world or Korriban the son of a mercenery and a dark jedi investigating the origins of the sith, Nomak was a strange child. Rarely crying and often sickly, he was raised to the best of his parents dubious abilities. From as soon as he could walk Nomak was a wanderer Often exploring the sub-decks and and maintenance shafts of his mother's ship before he was even old enough to understand the prospect of a ship.
It was eerily apparent from an early age that Nomak was force sensitive and spent a great deal of time as a toddler walking amoung the old ruins and long forgotten tombs. Taught to read and right by his mother, and how to defend himself by his father he quickly became bolder and explored the many tombs lacing the planet. Of all the world's many crypts he seemed to lurk outside those of former dark jedi or sith most often, drawn by whatever power still lay sleeping in those anceint stones.
Around the time he was eight his mother wask illed on a contract gone bad, leaving himself and his father alone in those dusty, lonely tombs. With no other idea on how to raise the young boy Nomak's father began to instruct him in those dubious and dark arts which he too had learned as a mere child. Manipulation of the force and mastery of the sabre became Nomak's days while the creed of survival and self above all others became his nighttime lullabye. Years of hard study and training seemed to bleed together for the young boy. While he was never particuarly adapt at controlling the force ( Point in fact he was terribly weak at such art's.) he took to the sabrewith chilling ease. Every sabre skill his father taught the boy hungrily gobbled up, assimulating everything and practising almost constantly.
On his twenty second birthday Nomak stood before the statues of uncaring Sith lords of days long passed and began his trials to become a fully fledged warrior. The first test was simple, enter a force sensitive cave and retrive the crystals required to build his lightsabre. Within that dark and damp cavarn Nomak was harried by a brood of creatures resembling spiders, yet sickly in colour with hides tougher than leather. Armed with little more than a cheap, single-bladed sword scavanged from a long abandoned tomb Nomak fought his way through the creatures, strangly luminous blood splattering his sword hand as he pushed deeper into the twisting maze of cavarns. Despite being almost constantly harried and poisioned by one of the creatures Nomak made it to the surface, crystals held in his bloody hands. Surprisingly it was only after several pain-staking hours when Nomak had constructed his lightsabre did he allow himself to pass out. The cold embrace of sleep was not for him however and after being adminstered with a crude antidote and a few rather weak stims he was sent on his second task.
His second task was a trial by fire. Hidden deep within the planet was an ancient chamber long ago used to test young warriors strength of heart and mind. Using his new weapon Nomak battled to the heart of this dark place, passing through the mirrored doors and into a pitch black room. Infront of him was nothing but void blackness, yet every time he turned his head he was beset by visions of vast wealth, beautiful women, power, respect, and admoration. A women detached herself from the throng of followers surronding an ebony throne and strolled over to meet him, standing justo utside his arms reach, her own arms extended to him, bidding him to her. He took a single step towards her, his mind clouded...
and plummeted into the dark. It was only by the sensation of falling and the sudden anger at being tricked did he managed to twist his body to catch the hidden, narrow bridge and heave himself back up. Pain swarmed him as he reached the top, his grip had stopped him from fallingb u the price was high, his shoulder had been dislocated, is wrist broken by the sudden jerk. Even as he slowly, ohh so slowly trdged the hidden path, one baby step at a time did he feel the stims wearing off and giving way to pain and utterly hopless despair.
Soon dark became light however and he emerged from the tomb to the stern features of his father who coldly informed him of the last trial. Trial by combat. Without word of warning the older man lept at him, sabre flashing out to remove his head from his shoulders. It was only instinct that let Nomaks blade intercept the blow and guide it away. Whipping his head back sharply to avoid a second strike Nomak threw himself to the right, rolling and only just parrying a thrust that would have lanced him through, pushing his sabre up his father kicked him roughly in the chest and Nomak felt his breath tear from his lungs as a rib snapped under the harsh treatment. On his back through teary eyes he watched the band of light fall towards his chest, ready to cleave him in two. Forcing his rebelling body to roll aside Nomak forced himself upright. The blade licked out and this time Nomak was too late to stop it. The blade lanced through his shoulder. With a final shuddering scream Nomak gave up the ghost and allowed blackness to claim him as he awaited the killing stroke.
It never came, Nomak awoke much later to find himself sitting in his bunk, his wounds tended too and his father standing at the edge of his bed. He coldly, calmly informed Nomak that the final trial was simple, to lose. In losing Nomak would learn there was -always- someone better than you. Then, in a cold tone Nomak's father drew his sabre and brought the blade to life. With a final cold smile he said simply that he was going to join his wife, and reversed the blade. With a single thrust he ended his own life before the eyes of his son. Racked with agony and weary from the effects of the posion Nomak still managed to bury his father in the dusts of Korriban in a grave marked by a simple smooth stone. From that day on Nomak vowed that no man would be better than him.
6 years since that day and Nomak still wanders the universe, collecting pieces of knowlage on the sabre and the skills releated to it. He has studied under various 'master's' and also taken to learning the ighting styles of various races in hopes of fufilling that vow made long ago. Nomak seeks to master the sabre in all it's various forms and styles, forgoing an understanding of the force in favor of swordsmanship. His pursuit boarders upon obsession as he strives towards that single, impossible goal dauntlessly.
Nomak's first job was nothing short of captian of his own small mercenery band. The group put into port on Korriban hoping to recruit from the usual scum that dwelled in such a place. The ship's captian, a rather salty old gentlemen walked the untidy line of willing recruits. When he came to Nomak he made a passing joke on the young man's rather feminine looks. In reply Nomak unseamed him from groin to crown with his sabre. A vote from the surviving crew members quickly elected Nomak as the new captian.
Nomak found quickly that many of the qualities required for understanding sabre fighting also applied to space warfare. Having no real experince in space Nomak applied himself to the previous captians logs, learning as much as he could before leading the small band of brigands into battle. Leaving much of the actual commanding to the ships first mate Nomak would take to the field seeking out the best the enemy had. In the twisting streets of Coruscant the band sold their services to one of two rival street gangs, battling for turf in the city-planets seedy underbelly. Nomak busied himself seeking out infamous bounty hunters, hard bitten gang enforcers and anyone else with a reputation. When he encountered one of thse unqiue individules Nomak would challange them to single combat. Through fire and pain Nomak expanded his knowlage of combat while his mercenery band fought for however would pay them.
Swiftly bored by life as a dog of war Nomak promoted the ships cook to the rank of captian before taking his share of the money and leaving. He purchased a smallfighter, named it 'The Defiant' and took off for the outer rim. Where would a young man with a pocket full of credits and a reputation to prove go to on the outer rim? Tattoine of course!
Purchasing a small room in a dorm, Nomak started his stay on Tattoine by hunting down 'Hang-lip'. A wookie berserker acting as a bodyguard to one of the local Hutt warlords. Upon finding the large warrior Nomak instantly challanged him to a duel. The hutt, seing a chance for profit organised a pitt fight, paying off several officals to make it a match to the death.
Under the gaze of a crowd of spectators the warriors saluted and began a duel to the death. The wookie warrior gained first blood when one of his heavy blades scythed through Nomak's defence and scored a shallow wound across his midriff. In return Nomak launched a flurry of blows, succesfully luring the wookie into a poor counter attack and severing the huge warriors hairy arm an inch above the elbow. A normal warrior would have been all but dead. The wookie on the other hand stared at his wound for a single moment before simple backing handing Nomak hard enough to break his jaw. Before the young jedi could recover the Wookie stamped on his left wrist, shattering the bone. Through a sea of agony Nomak felt a hairy paw seize him by the throat and heave him off his feet. With the air being crushed from his lungs he summoned a final bastion of will, the sabre lifted from the ground to his hand, the red beam slicing through the Wookie's remaining arm before lancing up to carve through the internal organs. Drawing his blade clear Nomak watched the light fade from the great warriors eyes. The screams of the onlookers washing over him. Despite overwhelming agony Nomak walked out of the arena under his own strength.
While his wounds were being healed Nomak was approached by a representitve of the Hutt crime ring who offered him the wookies former position as a body guard and a chance tofight in the arena. Nomak's reply was simple. " I'm a warrior, not a tamed rancor to dance for your amusement." As soon as his wounds were healed Nomak left Tattooine behind, taking with him only the scars of his battle. This became the pattern of Nomak's life. Travelling the galaxy in search of great foes to test himself against. With a considerable reputation behind him Nomak has begun to find challanges thinner and more difficult to find. Nomak is now forced to use work as a body-guard and enforcer to find creatures worthy of a duel. With challanges harder and harder to find Nomaks sharp eyes have turned to the current conflict between the Republic and it's many enemies.
Lightsaber: Single-bladed, rather plain. Reinforced with rubber grips inlaid into the hilt to stop his hand from slipping.
Color: Blood red for no other reason that he thinks it stands out.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:[/b]
Shii-Cho 5
Makashi 5
Soresu 1
Ataru 1
Shien / Djem So 2
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman 2
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield 1
Juyo n/a
Double Bladed Combat n/a
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: 1
Body: 3
Sense:1
Protection: 1
Healing: 1
Destruction:1
Specialized Skills:None
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 8
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 2
Force Attunement: -2
RP Sample:
" At Last" Teryn barked as the final seals slid away and a hiss emitted from the huge stone tomb as the lid fell away to reveal the prize below. Clutched in the startlingly well preserved hands of the corpse was a circle of stone, no larger than the palm of a man's hand. Passing his light-globe to one of the three men behind him the human carefully pried away the fingers clutching the holocron and lifted it clear, shuddering as he felt the wisdom of ages past touch his flesh. " Smile gentlemen, after tonight we need not work another day in our lives."
" Wouldn't that be pleasant." A cold voice growled from behind them. The trio of armed guards, merceneries by the looks of them whipped around, blasters raised, the lights attached to them illuminating the figure. Dressed in a flowing black robe with what appeared to be a loose, leather tunic and cloth leggings beneath the man looked fairly unimpressive. The belt around his waist was epty of blaster and his tall boots were well worn and dust stained. " Identify yourself" Teryn barked. The man's head slowly turned to look at each of the three armed men. " The man whomade your progress into the temple so easy. I'll allow you to keep your life in return for the holocron" A smile twitched on Teryn's face before he reached for his blaster. " We know how to deal with thieves, Kill.."
Before the last word could leave his mouth Nomak was amoung them. His sabre flicked out in one direction, his foot in another. The sabre seperated an armoured hand from the equally well protected wrist before it swung around in a tight circle to part the merc's head from his shoulders. Meanwhile his foot connected with a blaster, knocking it aside, the bolt of energy burning a black circle in old stonework. Wheeling smoothly Nomak slashed his sabre through one man's waist. The man parted and fell in two pieces, his legs crumpling in a boneless heap while the upper half lay panting on the ground. Reverseing his blade Nomak stabbed under his arm and lanced the last of the armed guards, the sabre burning a hole through his heart. Drawing clear the dark jedi set his steely gaze on Teryn.
Three men dead in as many heart-beats. Teryn dropped his blaster and fell to his knee's, extending both arms to offer the holocron. " Please... Spare me lord! just take it!" The sabre flashed only once, severing both arm's at the elbow and leaving casturized stumps in their place. The scream that came from the mauled man was barely human. In the dim light he could just make out the holocron pried from his dead fingers as he had pried it from the corpses moments ago. The lightsabre switched off and vanished from sight. The last thing Teryn saw of the warrior was as he turned and walked away, lifting his fallen hood back over his head. Teryn screamed, for it was all he could do.
Race: Human
Age: 28
Height:6'2"
Weight:180 lbs
Appearance: A tall, fairly youthful man of predatory build. Nomak is an athletic gentlemen in his late twenties. Broad-shouldered and narrow waisted, his body is well muscled through years of dedicated training.
Nomaks facial structure is gaunt and almost feminine. Delicate, high cheekbones, a slender jaw and shallow cheeks give him an almost 'pretty' appearance. While his features lack masculinity it would be hard to mistake him for a woman. His nose is slender and delicate, his eyes slightly slanted, almond shaped and a striking emerald colour in tone. His hair is as black as night and falls to his waist. He tends to either keep his hair naturally flowing or braided in the style of various races.
Personality: Driven if not somwhat arrogant. Nomak enjoys being in control. Utterly sure of himself, his confidence can be over-powering and he tends to speak very sharply and always to the point. In conversation he is a man of few words, his few sentances always straight to the point.
Nomak does not consider himself 'evil' but will never shy away from his goal no matter what he has to do to achive them. Murder, robbery, intimidation and black-mail are merely tools at his disposal. He will happily break the law in pursuit of goals and can even at times be a tad cruel.
On the flip side Nomak has been known to help on the odd occasion. A man ruled by whims and emotions he can easily be fooled or otherwise distracted from goals by anothers plight and takes a particular fancy to things he consider's " Dramatic". He also has a deep love of being on the losing side, and will take up arms for a cause simply because they are the under-dogs.
Birth place: Korriban
Faction: Dark Jedi
Rank:Knight
Bio: Born on the dusty tomb world or Korriban the son of a mercenery and a dark jedi investigating the origins of the sith, Nomak was a strange child. Rarely crying and often sickly, he was raised to the best of his parents dubious abilities. From as soon as he could walk Nomak was a wanderer Often exploring the sub-decks and and maintenance shafts of his mother's ship before he was even old enough to understand the prospect of a ship.
It was eerily apparent from an early age that Nomak was force sensitive and spent a great deal of time as a toddler walking amoung the old ruins and long forgotten tombs. Taught to read and right by his mother, and how to defend himself by his father he quickly became bolder and explored the many tombs lacing the planet. Of all the world's many crypts he seemed to lurk outside those of former dark jedi or sith most often, drawn by whatever power still lay sleeping in those anceint stones.
Around the time he was eight his mother wask illed on a contract gone bad, leaving himself and his father alone in those dusty, lonely tombs. With no other idea on how to raise the young boy Nomak's father began to instruct him in those dubious and dark arts which he too had learned as a mere child. Manipulation of the force and mastery of the sabre became Nomak's days while the creed of survival and self above all others became his nighttime lullabye. Years of hard study and training seemed to bleed together for the young boy. While he was never particuarly adapt at controlling the force ( Point in fact he was terribly weak at such art's.) he took to the sabrewith chilling ease. Every sabre skill his father taught the boy hungrily gobbled up, assimulating everything and practising almost constantly.
On his twenty second birthday Nomak stood before the statues of uncaring Sith lords of days long passed and began his trials to become a fully fledged warrior. The first test was simple, enter a force sensitive cave and retrive the crystals required to build his lightsabre. Within that dark and damp cavarn Nomak was harried by a brood of creatures resembling spiders, yet sickly in colour with hides tougher than leather. Armed with little more than a cheap, single-bladed sword scavanged from a long abandoned tomb Nomak fought his way through the creatures, strangly luminous blood splattering his sword hand as he pushed deeper into the twisting maze of cavarns. Despite being almost constantly harried and poisioned by one of the creatures Nomak made it to the surface, crystals held in his bloody hands. Surprisingly it was only after several pain-staking hours when Nomak had constructed his lightsabre did he allow himself to pass out. The cold embrace of sleep was not for him however and after being adminstered with a crude antidote and a few rather weak stims he was sent on his second task.
His second task was a trial by fire. Hidden deep within the planet was an ancient chamber long ago used to test young warriors strength of heart and mind. Using his new weapon Nomak battled to the heart of this dark place, passing through the mirrored doors and into a pitch black room. Infront of him was nothing but void blackness, yet every time he turned his head he was beset by visions of vast wealth, beautiful women, power, respect, and admoration. A women detached herself from the throng of followers surronding an ebony throne and strolled over to meet him, standing justo utside his arms reach, her own arms extended to him, bidding him to her. He took a single step towards her, his mind clouded...
and plummeted into the dark. It was only by the sensation of falling and the sudden anger at being tricked did he managed to twist his body to catch the hidden, narrow bridge and heave himself back up. Pain swarmed him as he reached the top, his grip had stopped him from fallingb u the price was high, his shoulder had been dislocated, is wrist broken by the sudden jerk. Even as he slowly, ohh so slowly trdged the hidden path, one baby step at a time did he feel the stims wearing off and giving way to pain and utterly hopless despair.
Soon dark became light however and he emerged from the tomb to the stern features of his father who coldly informed him of the last trial. Trial by combat. Without word of warning the older man lept at him, sabre flashing out to remove his head from his shoulders. It was only instinct that let Nomaks blade intercept the blow and guide it away. Whipping his head back sharply to avoid a second strike Nomak threw himself to the right, rolling and only just parrying a thrust that would have lanced him through, pushing his sabre up his father kicked him roughly in the chest and Nomak felt his breath tear from his lungs as a rib snapped under the harsh treatment. On his back through teary eyes he watched the band of light fall towards his chest, ready to cleave him in two. Forcing his rebelling body to roll aside Nomak forced himself upright. The blade licked out and this time Nomak was too late to stop it. The blade lanced through his shoulder. With a final shuddering scream Nomak gave up the ghost and allowed blackness to claim him as he awaited the killing stroke.
It never came, Nomak awoke much later to find himself sitting in his bunk, his wounds tended too and his father standing at the edge of his bed. He coldly, calmly informed Nomak that the final trial was simple, to lose. In losing Nomak would learn there was -always- someone better than you. Then, in a cold tone Nomak's father drew his sabre and brought the blade to life. With a final cold smile he said simply that he was going to join his wife, and reversed the blade. With a single thrust he ended his own life before the eyes of his son. Racked with agony and weary from the effects of the posion Nomak still managed to bury his father in the dusts of Korriban in a grave marked by a simple smooth stone. From that day on Nomak vowed that no man would be better than him.
6 years since that day and Nomak still wanders the universe, collecting pieces of knowlage on the sabre and the skills releated to it. He has studied under various 'master's' and also taken to learning the ighting styles of various races in hopes of fufilling that vow made long ago. Nomak seeks to master the sabre in all it's various forms and styles, forgoing an understanding of the force in favor of swordsmanship. His pursuit boarders upon obsession as he strives towards that single, impossible goal dauntlessly.
Nomak's first job was nothing short of captian of his own small mercenery band. The group put into port on Korriban hoping to recruit from the usual scum that dwelled in such a place. The ship's captian, a rather salty old gentlemen walked the untidy line of willing recruits. When he came to Nomak he made a passing joke on the young man's rather feminine looks. In reply Nomak unseamed him from groin to crown with his sabre. A vote from the surviving crew members quickly elected Nomak as the new captian.
Nomak found quickly that many of the qualities required for understanding sabre fighting also applied to space warfare. Having no real experince in space Nomak applied himself to the previous captians logs, learning as much as he could before leading the small band of brigands into battle. Leaving much of the actual commanding to the ships first mate Nomak would take to the field seeking out the best the enemy had. In the twisting streets of Coruscant the band sold their services to one of two rival street gangs, battling for turf in the city-planets seedy underbelly. Nomak busied himself seeking out infamous bounty hunters, hard bitten gang enforcers and anyone else with a reputation. When he encountered one of thse unqiue individules Nomak would challange them to single combat. Through fire and pain Nomak expanded his knowlage of combat while his mercenery band fought for however would pay them.
Swiftly bored by life as a dog of war Nomak promoted the ships cook to the rank of captian before taking his share of the money and leaving. He purchased a smallfighter, named it 'The Defiant' and took off for the outer rim. Where would a young man with a pocket full of credits and a reputation to prove go to on the outer rim? Tattoine of course!
Purchasing a small room in a dorm, Nomak started his stay on Tattoine by hunting down 'Hang-lip'. A wookie berserker acting as a bodyguard to one of the local Hutt warlords. Upon finding the large warrior Nomak instantly challanged him to a duel. The hutt, seing a chance for profit organised a pitt fight, paying off several officals to make it a match to the death.
Under the gaze of a crowd of spectators the warriors saluted and began a duel to the death. The wookie warrior gained first blood when one of his heavy blades scythed through Nomak's defence and scored a shallow wound across his midriff. In return Nomak launched a flurry of blows, succesfully luring the wookie into a poor counter attack and severing the huge warriors hairy arm an inch above the elbow. A normal warrior would have been all but dead. The wookie on the other hand stared at his wound for a single moment before simple backing handing Nomak hard enough to break his jaw. Before the young jedi could recover the Wookie stamped on his left wrist, shattering the bone. Through a sea of agony Nomak felt a hairy paw seize him by the throat and heave him off his feet. With the air being crushed from his lungs he summoned a final bastion of will, the sabre lifted from the ground to his hand, the red beam slicing through the Wookie's remaining arm before lancing up to carve through the internal organs. Drawing his blade clear Nomak watched the light fade from the great warriors eyes. The screams of the onlookers washing over him. Despite overwhelming agony Nomak walked out of the arena under his own strength.
While his wounds were being healed Nomak was approached by a representitve of the Hutt crime ring who offered him the wookies former position as a body guard and a chance tofight in the arena. Nomak's reply was simple. " I'm a warrior, not a tamed rancor to dance for your amusement." As soon as his wounds were healed Nomak left Tattooine behind, taking with him only the scars of his battle. This became the pattern of Nomak's life. Travelling the galaxy in search of great foes to test himself against. With a considerable reputation behind him Nomak has begun to find challanges thinner and more difficult to find. Nomak is now forced to use work as a body-guard and enforcer to find creatures worthy of a duel. With challanges harder and harder to find Nomaks sharp eyes have turned to the current conflict between the Republic and it's many enemies.
Lightsaber: Single-bladed, rather plain. Reinforced with rubber grips inlaid into the hilt to stop his hand from slipping.
Color: Blood red for no other reason that he thinks it stands out.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:[/b]
Shii-Cho 5
Makashi 5
Soresu 1
Ataru 1
Shien / Djem So 2
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman 2
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield 1
Juyo n/a
Double Bladed Combat n/a
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: 1
Body: 3
Sense:1
Protection: 1
Healing: 1
Destruction:1
Specialized Skills:None
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 8
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 2
Force Attunement: -2
RP Sample:
" At Last" Teryn barked as the final seals slid away and a hiss emitted from the huge stone tomb as the lid fell away to reveal the prize below. Clutched in the startlingly well preserved hands of the corpse was a circle of stone, no larger than the palm of a man's hand. Passing his light-globe to one of the three men behind him the human carefully pried away the fingers clutching the holocron and lifted it clear, shuddering as he felt the wisdom of ages past touch his flesh. " Smile gentlemen, after tonight we need not work another day in our lives."
" Wouldn't that be pleasant." A cold voice growled from behind them. The trio of armed guards, merceneries by the looks of them whipped around, blasters raised, the lights attached to them illuminating the figure. Dressed in a flowing black robe with what appeared to be a loose, leather tunic and cloth leggings beneath the man looked fairly unimpressive. The belt around his waist was epty of blaster and his tall boots were well worn and dust stained. " Identify yourself" Teryn barked. The man's head slowly turned to look at each of the three armed men. " The man whomade your progress into the temple so easy. I'll allow you to keep your life in return for the holocron" A smile twitched on Teryn's face before he reached for his blaster. " We know how to deal with thieves, Kill.."
Before the last word could leave his mouth Nomak was amoung them. His sabre flicked out in one direction, his foot in another. The sabre seperated an armoured hand from the equally well protected wrist before it swung around in a tight circle to part the merc's head from his shoulders. Meanwhile his foot connected with a blaster, knocking it aside, the bolt of energy burning a black circle in old stonework. Wheeling smoothly Nomak slashed his sabre through one man's waist. The man parted and fell in two pieces, his legs crumpling in a boneless heap while the upper half lay panting on the ground. Reverseing his blade Nomak stabbed under his arm and lanced the last of the armed guards, the sabre burning a hole through his heart. Drawing clear the dark jedi set his steely gaze on Teryn.
Three men dead in as many heart-beats. Teryn dropped his blaster and fell to his knee's, extending both arms to offer the holocron. " Please... Spare me lord! just take it!" The sabre flashed only once, severing both arm's at the elbow and leaving casturized stumps in their place. The scream that came from the mauled man was barely human. In the dim light he could just make out the holocron pried from his dead fingers as he had pried it from the corpses moments ago. The lightsabre switched off and vanished from sight. The last thing Teryn saw of the warrior was as he turned and walked away, lifting his fallen hood back over his head. Teryn screamed, for it was all he could do.
