Private (Factional) Millions of Soldiers; In Fire, Blood, and Steel


Community Team
Staff member
Community Team
It wasn't until about the third or fourth time that Winslow had hissed aloud had he realized what he was doing, his anger, pride, and pain causing him to nearly spit at the air each time he scored a successful hit on the droid, even glancing blows. But, being audible as such in suffering or in victory was something the Acolyte prided himself on not allowing, he fed on his emotions sure, but he hated sounding like an enraged buffoon or a crying weakling. Still though he hadn't been able to help himself when falling to the Dark Side of The Force entirely, relying on it solely to keep pushing himself after a certain amount of time at that point.​
So when the EG-9 droid came in with another strike of it's own despite losing one of it's own arms Winslow's mind was quite fatigued, but sharp as ever did it remain. In one slick movement his body would shift just enough before his arm swung around all the while his wrist twirled independently of the cybernetic arm. At the same time so would Winslow use The Force to activate his lightsaber's hidden mechanics once more, this time shortening the hilt as well as the blade back to their original lengths.​
The Acolyte realized what he was doing, he knew what was coming his way, but he knew he could survive it if he moved just right and at that he had the chance to deal a blow at the same time.​
As such when EG-9's lightsaber came swinging toward Winslow's fake-arm so would he strike out in attempt to sever the droid's leading leg. Whether the Acolyte hit his target again or not mattered little though for Winslow would find that the lightsaber strike cleaved his cybernetic-limb off just above the elbow joint leading to him rolling...tumbling several feet away with the momentum behind his own movements. At first he wouldn't stir in the least until he did, slowly, but surely Winslow would begin to struggle, eventually managing to prop himself up enough with what remained of his cybernetic-appendage to then use his core muscles to lift himself up and onto his knees in the least. Staggering then he'd be left panting on one knee, in a kneeling position the asunder man looked worse for ware by all accounts.​