A meeting of badasses.....

[Darth Vulcanus]

Sabarene

The Republic had decimated the slave yards and taken near all the slaves with them and leaving a valley of dead Graug in their wake, but they would not have heard the last warcry of the Graug. Even as the time slowly ticked by, the Horde was regaining its strength and preparing all that it could to prepare for another invasion of the Republic's space. Darth Vulcanus was not going to let the Jedi scum escape into the night with what they had done. The Hegemony of the Graug would bide their time, awaiting the next chance to strike and when that chance came they would hunt the Jedi to extinction. There would be no stopping them, no cry or plea that would halt the flowing hordes of the Graug. Their numbers would tremble the ground, their warriors would burn the streets and the blood of the Jedi would be used to drown the Republics children.

For now, Vulcanus had other worries to deal with. Sabarene was saturated with the scents and auras of death and the ground was littered with pikes that stood tall and bore the heads of fallen clones and Jedi alike. Even with so much death and atrocity, however, Vulcanus could still sense the presence of light...someone was here. The beast now walked alone in the vast desert of the land, his massive form gliding about the severed heads and mangled bodies that the Graug had put up as a warning to all. Were the Jedi so foolish that they thought another attack could stop the Graug? They should have known better than to come back, they should have stayed out in space where the Graug could no longer give chase.

Moving through a light cloud of sand that obscured his path, Krag prepared to meet this foolish lighsider.

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Fire and Blood.

No matter where the Sith went. No matter when they reared their disgusting heads...that was always the result. The reality of the matter was one that twisted the stomach of the Jedi as he roamed the battlefield, desperately attempting to prevent himself from dry heaves. The stench of death clung to the very air he breathed, so much so that his eyes watered; yet, he had to press on. The battle was one that did not end favorably, but Josiah had to seek out any and all survivors. They could regroup! They could fight on! They could protect the Republic from this impending bloodshed. As such, the Jedi tread upon the blood-soaked earth, a hand clasped over his nose and lips in an attempt to filter out the aroma of death that assaulted his nostrils.

Then, he felt it. An all-too familiar cloud of Darkness...He was here.

This marked the third time that the Jedi and the Graug had met. First was on the battlefield, in an offensive launched by the Fel Imperium. Second was a foolhardy attack launched by the Graug against the Jedi Temple itself...and now this. Each and every time, the scaly, ugly mongrel known as Krag had managed to elude decimation by the Light. No more! This ended today. Reaching for his utility belt, the Jedi pulled into his grasp the first of his lightsabers and slid a finger over its ignition. At once, its golden blade erupted into existence and Josiah stood ready, awaiting the arrival of his "rival". Garbed in the Templar Armor that had served him so well over the years, Josiah Denko was ready to put to an end the score between them.

This time, the Titans would fight to the last breath.

@[member="Darth Vulcanus"].

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

"Deeenkoooooooo" Krag almost purred the name as he mounted a hill of sand and looked down over his opponent, his single sulfuric eye peering into the very essence of the man. Josiah was a Jedi, a worthy opponent who Krag had yet to kill even though they had met multiple times on the field of battle. The lightsider stood ready, his golden blade cutting through the veil of sand like a bright sun in the vastness of space. "Come to join your comrades on the pikes?" the towering beast's voice sounded over the blowing winds as he began to course grand pulses of darkside energy though his arms and down into the palms of his hands. The former Dark Lord could tell that the stench of victory was sickening to the human, such a pathetic species and even more so when they resisted the glory of the darkside. The aroma of death was the greatest smell a Graug could experience, it meant that the war battle had past and that they were still around to claim glory.

Back in the cleansing wars of Gratos, many years before Krag's birth, it was said that the entire surface of Gratos smelled of victory and defeat alike. Killing fields laid outside every city, warnings to the other clans that were never heeded. The Graug even fought battles on fields that had been left with rotting corpses for months, dying in the stench and the decay and were thankful to the gods for the chance to do so. Today would be no different for Vulcanus as he battled this man who had earned the right to be called Krag's nemesis. Just as the ancients before him, Krag would fight his ultimate enemy on the fields of death and when it was over he would collect every bone and layer of skin as his trophy. That was the way of a true warrior.....

@[member="Josiah Denko"]