Salis. Marai. V’Trechen. He reflected each word and syllable within his head, as if chewing on morsels of meat; delicacies to savor with each bloody heartbeat. Only this wasn’t so unnatural for Drane T’keen. War, battle, combat—this was not mindless violence to the Thyrsian. Conflict was a bit of a religion to him even before the Sith.
To exchange names, to know his enemy, it was more than mere formality. It was life. It was death. It was why the guy fights day and night.
Drane…Drane…Drane… Souls may cry from the grave, and he would welcome their call as he stands tall before them all. Someday.
Truthfully, he was not simply some tropey blood knight who would fight every being that crosses his path. He had not even attacked her first. It was her Force that fell the trees in this forest, of course, before he had even swung his sword.
Salis. He didn’t recognize her, whether he should or shouldn’t. Granted, not every name in a database with a reputation in weight was known by everybody. He didn’t think about that though. Behind his helmet, he smiled, as much from his opponent’s curtsy as her speech.
Foxy little beast. She certainly had teeth.
“I must admit, I am far more curious about your character at this moment than I am eager to slay you.” Drane spoke as casually as she stood. He really didn’t go out of his way for stealth in his mission. He could have just as well but he had no concerns about being attacked.
Till now, perhaps? Ha.
“Moral superiority is something a Sith might attribute to a Jedi. Whereas doing what works for you is what a Jedi might attribute to a Sith.” He shrugged off these concerns as well, as if flicking a fly from his shoulder.
“Between these trees, let’s be neither. Just a man. Just a woman. Just two fighters.”
He took a step closer, blades pointed to the forest floor, but went no further.
“Here is my proposal, Salis, and I do not mean your hand in marriage.” That would yet be just as curious if it came to be.
“Help me find this hermit and this object and then we shall see who leaves with it. Agreed?”
Apart from a parley there was logic to this. Drane did not doubt himself, nor his opponent, but he did not want some drawn-out duel to delay him from his target. Once obtained, well, their blades could yet again swing away…
Salis