An Old Wound

[Darlyn Excron]

Darlyn hadn't left his office, or connected bedroom, in what felt like decades. Time seemed to drag on agonizingly slowly for him, with each second draining him of his normal youth like vigor. He took every meal quietly, opting not to communicate with anyone not important to running his planet, nor about anything other than business. He was living in self made solitude, finishing work and when not busy, holding in his hand two nearly shattered metal rods, staring down at them with blank, lifeless eyes.

Concord Dawn​

Darlyn was laughing, ecstatic as he felt the power of the Storm he had conjured swirling around them. "Oh I really get why you guys love to do this when you can! Oh it's exhilarating!" He had a wild grin on his face as he rose to his feet, letting the storm work on the Sith invasion taking place as he kept his focus on the woman leading them. He was rather comfortable now in his beskar'gam, the metal armor a welcome barrier between his flesh and the fire and death around him. His hands were dirty from falling to them moments ago, but that was nothing compared to the blood that would be on them after this. This storm would not spare friends nor foes, all would face its wrath.

They were going to die anyways, by the wasps, fire, or blasters of sith troops. At least their deaths now would help fuel the storm, and ease the burden on his shoulders.

To his hand left hand flung his lightsaber, the yellow blade flaring to life with an eager hiss, and with a calm anger he lifted it to point at [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]. "Come then, it's been a while since I got to see a Sith's innards and I'm quite eager to get started."

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Darlyn Excron

"You are toying with powers beyond you, boy."

She saw the lightning strike wildly around them, zapping men and women on both sides, while Mandalorian soldiers fell smouldering to the ground, scorched by the fire Vornskr had unleashed. Her fire-wreathed helmet now stared at the young man in the centre of the storm; this child meddling with the dark arts of her kin.

This lost sheep.

Behind the visor of the hound-like helmet of her black armour, she narrowed her eyes as the boy challenged her with his sabre. In response, she turned her right shoulder to her foe pointed her polearm at him. The spear was long and tipped with a broad bloodshine blade. The silver shaft, engraved and decorated with a darker metal, reflected the orange and blue flashes of light around them.

"So get out of my way."

 

[Darlyn Excron]

Joycelyn Zambrano

"Beyond me? Probably but I still made the damn thing, seems within me in that sense. Of course being a Sith you probably think it's just totally unfair someone else gets to play with your toys. In which case, I'm happy to disappoint you."

HE gave the weapon a small twirl before resting it at his side, and taking the first step forward towards Joycelyn. Each step closer, he could feel the darkness rising, as death filled the air and drenched the soil underfoot. This, he felt, had to be it. He was as powerful as he had ever been, strong enough to take down Sith before, this one had to be no different. Perhaps he was just drunk on the success of the storm now raging, but the man had confidence practically oozing from him.

"So what kind of fruit do you think your mourners will like?"

He tightened his grip on the lightsaber in hand, watching from behind his visor to keep track of her weapon's tip. She would have the first move almost certainly, her weapon had better reach. And while he could create a spear of his own with the tricksaber at his waist, he wouldn't have the strength to wield it properly while so much force energy was dedicated to keeping the storm active. So instead he was formulating a plan, to deflect her first strike and step inside the weapon's range. Spears had a nasty habit of being pretty useless if you had no space to use them.

"Personally I'm a fan of melons but it doesn't suit everyone."