GBA: Krest vs Vrag

[Reverance]

Participants: [member="Krest"]
[member="Vrag"]
Location: Naboo, Lake Country
Time: Early Morning, Sun low on the horizon
Rules: Master Level Duel, no restrictions
Canon: No

The breeze is a gingerly thing, spreading softly across the open field. The grass tilts in delicate opposition as the shallow gusts change direction on a whim. The duelists find themselves facing off against one another, the distance between the two a mere 10 meters. On the eastern portion of the battlefield, a steep river cuts into the surface of the open field and runs south from a large waterfall to the north. The waterfall extends upwards 30 meters to a rocky plateau.

To the west, the grasslands extend as far as the eye can see, an almost Savannah type appearance. Not a tree to be seen, the sun lies low on the horizon and cast a long shadow against the form of the combatants. To dance in unison, when the fight begins. The sky is a spectacular blue hue, white clouds drifting across lazily, casting the occasional drifting shadow across the open plain.

 

[Vrag]

It would be quite unfitting, considering her affiliation with the Sith, to say that she had visited the world for vacation purposes, so let's go with the usual reason; domination and slaughter. How much of that Vrag was going to do was another matter completely — which is to say, zero — because honestly, there was only so long you could go stringing one invasion after another before giving into the urge to escape to a sunny beach somewhere in the Unknown regions and sip mohitos in a pleasantly cool shade.

Since that wasn't quite the option for Vrag, the woman had gone with the next best thing; a sightseeing trip to the wavy grasslands of Naboo under the pretense of converting and/or butchering the local populace. To her great surprise, however, it wasn't only her superiors that had fallen for that admittedly transparent excuse, for the man who had interrupted her picnic time didn't look at all friendly.

With an appropriate amount of grumbling and a few choice expletives thrown in there for color, the firrerreo had picked herself up and spared one last longing look at the various dishes set out on the blanket before focusing on the interloper.

"Where I'm from, it's considered bad manners to interrupt people in the middle of a meal," she called out in a lightly annoyed tone, her visor darkening to shield her from the rays of the setting sun.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"]

Krest had chosen to wander Naboo much as he always did. Carefree, and to the water. He had always loved submerging himself under the warm flowing waters. The waterfalls offered a bliss, free of sound and sight. He had been standing under one topless as per normal, when he felt it.

Well, her. A dark spot on the surface of the planet. With a sigh he would step out of the water, and hurry on over to meet this person. On his way he would pull back on the jacket to his armor, if you could call it that.

He stopped in front of her, a frown settled on his face. "What are you doing here?" His voice was stoic, and his arms crossed over his chest.

 

[Vrag]

A rather affronted eyebrow rose behind the blackened visor shielding her from both the sun and her enemy's gaze, and she wondered if the man had some sort of hearing problem.

"Eating," she gestured at the blanket some meters away, still strewn with food. Delectable food, no less.

"Last time I checked, that wasn't a crime," the woman added in a venomous tone and swallowed a low groan. She had hand-picked those dishes, painstakingly sampling and assessing various cuisines of the Galaxy until she was certain she had what she wanted. Now this pompous, self-righteous ass had the gall to not only interrupt her precious dinner, but also question her right to be here? This, Vrag decided quietly, would not do. It would not do at all.

Her blue eyes took in the audacious figure, standing there in the meadow with little more than a jacket adorning his body. On another day, the Sith might have been impressed by the admittedly fine stature he possessed, but the man had committed a grave offense, and even his chiseled muscles couldn't save him now.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"]

There was a pause within the Zabraks stature. It really wasn't a crime for anyone to eat, and all he had felt was a dark signature. But.. Was he so different way back when? A sigh would escape his red lips before he would move to plop down beside the basket. With his legs crossed, and his hands resting on his knees, he'd gaze at the food. It wasn't that he was hungry. No, he was curious.

As a foody himself, he couldn't help but be interested in the concept of a good meal. The lofty aromas assaulted his nose, from sweet to savory. The assortment was vast, with much finer ingredients then he could afford. There was a hint of what ye assumed was mint, though he was far from sure. With a smile on his face he would enjoy the aroma.

But this didn't mean he was ignoring the Sith. After all, he had rudely interrupted a picnic, and decided to sit and smell the gorgeous food. He might as well look like a homeless starving man, if well fit. His hand, blocked by his body as he was to the right of the girl, already went to grip his duel phase saber. Thus may not have been his best idea.

 

[Vrag]

She stood silent and unmoving in the middle of the billowing grass, her blue eyes following the man as he moved to take a seat on the blanket. Her blanket. Those same eyes narrowed at the zabrak, and her feet followed him back to her picnic spot.

She approached him cautiously, her movements surprisingly quiet despite the armor she was wearing as each step was cushioned by the wavy steppe beneath her boots. Vrag never let him out of her sight as she came to stand a few meters away from him, arms relaxed by her side. His slow gesture might have gone unnoticed by someone more focused on the delectable food laid out on the blanket, but the Sith was neither trusting nor carless.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she snapped at the red-skinned man to get his attention. "I don't think I invited you to my dinner," the woman added and cocked her head slightly to the side, her voice as sharp as a razor.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Is it actually dinner time now?" His voice was more shocked then anything. Tearing his gaze from the delectable food, his deep blue eyes would go to meet [member="Vrag"] . He was quiet afterwards, but his eyes seemed to speak for him. They were cold, darkened almost. His gaze was devoid of any compassion, and even as he moved to stand, his eyes never left hers.

His hand never left the hilt of his blade either. Despite the fact that he was here to relax, he couldn't, not with someone as dark as she. His next words would bite into the air, and his hand would grip the sheath of his blade that much tighter.

"Are you Sith?"

 

[Vrag]

The armored woman blinked slowly at him, her blue eyes flickering to his tense muscles and the near-white grip clutching at his saber. With a long sigh, the firrerreo gestured somewhat irately at the sun that lay low above the horizon. Curious, really, how people would indulge in dinner at near sunset. Vrag wondered briefly if the zabrak culture had a different schedule for meals, and then remembered that she didn't care about such things. As he moved to stand, the Knight turned fully towards him, her gaze still hidden behind the darkened visor even when she judged the distance between them.

Wide measure. Good.

"Excuse me?" it wasn't hard to sound outraged, really. Not for someone as fiercely private as she. "I think you are very much out of line," the woman continued, her tone alone enough to send a chill to the bones.

"I'll have to ask you to leave."

Zero rule of engagement: don't.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

It was at this point that Krest would do something he normally wouldn't. Yet he did have a reason. [member="Vrag"] was known by Krest, as many of those within the Sith. He had hoped to talk, but he screwed that up right from the beginning. The sound of his sword freeing itself from its sheath cut through the silence of his response. He had switched from the saber for a good reason. The basic Sith Sword would be best here. Slowly his feet would spread, his non dominant left foot would be brought back, turning to the left a small amount. His right slide forward, and with a slight bend of his knees he looked ready to spring forward.

(For the sake of an actual duel, I hope you don't mind this post)

 

[Vrag]

(Eh, I guess. For the sake of the duel. It is non-canon, after all. )

Well, there was a reason combatants had a tendency to assume stances rather quickly, and it was a very simple one; to have a lower point of balance, and therefore be more stable on their feet. Vrag saw no point in doing so slowly, especially if you were close enough for your opponent to see it. She didn't mind it in the least, however, when the zabrak did it.

Sweet.

Her left arm thrust forward with a quick, sharp motion, snapping a focused Force Push towards the man while he was at his most vulnerable; moving to shift his equilibrium. How foolish of him, to expose himself in such an amateurish way. Oh, well. All the better for the skilled user of Makashi.

She unclipped her own weapon at the same time as she sought to knock the man off his feet, her thumb finding the switch with practiced ease. Her traitorous blade hissed to life, confirming what [member="Krest"] apparently already knew. Vrag was Sith, and she would write her admission upon his flesh with scorching glee.

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"]

Krest had been fighting with swords for a very, very long time. They were a part of his very being, much more so then a saber. Everything he did always had a reason, whether for the short term or the long. His opening stance looked to be one poised to jump in and get in close, but he did not need to be.

The fundamentals of Djem So was to counter. To make an opening when your opponent strikes. To bait them into revealing something if themselves. Djem So was one of seven forms the Zabrak had mastered, and has worked its way to being his main. As the push came to him, his figure distorted. A faint blue aura would form in front of him, a barrier. The blast of the push would shatter the quickly made protection, but Krest wasn't focused on that.

Instead, he pulled his blade free from it's sheath. It was a trick he learned long ago that would be utilized here. The blade, seeming to glow, was filled with the force. Again, it was hastily made, but what he did next was not to kill, or even hurt. As the blade came free, he smashed through the air, and a ripple of the force shot out from it's tip. Bladestorm was the name of the skill, only instead of it being a blast, he had focused it. The ripple was as sharp as his own sword it came from, but it would not harm his foe. No, the most it could do is scratch her armor.

That was to be the distraction. His form burst forward, his movements far faster then a normal person. Speed, strength, both were his. His sword was to the left of him, both hands gripping on the hilt. As soon as he was close, his blade would come up from the bottom left of his form. The left leg was placed back with the right forward, and his body would twist as he would bring the sharp edge diagonally up to the right of her form.

He was not going to commit, though. Djem So was about the commitment, to press the attack. But he did not. Rather, his body was poised to retreat backwards after the attack, if he could that was.

 

[Vrag]

How the man had managed to form a barrier in that nick of time was a mystery to Vrag, but she didn't dwell on the issue, for unlike her opponent, she wasn't blessed with nigh-impossible reflexes. Her blue eyes remained trained on her opponent, the flash he produced as he draw his weapon doing little to blind her, since her visor was darkened to avoid that exact problem.

As the zabrak shot forward, so the woman made a pass backward and to her right, circling out of the wide measure and then back again. Her footwork brought her out of his line of attack while she maintained her own, giving her the opportunity to use the superior reach of her one-handed style to execute a slash towards his exposed right forearm, an attack that was peerless when it came to speed. All it took was a quick downward motion of the hand, and combined with the Force flowing through her limbs, her adversary would be hard-pressed to avoid it unscathed. Especially since nothing but a jacket adorned his upper body.

Pity.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"]

His lack of commitment would prove a mistake as he watched the girl dance around his blade. Such was the way of Makashi, that much the Zabrak knew. There was little he could do as she moved in, striking out with the weightless energy blade, but he would not loose his arm. His lack of commitment would let him bring his right arm away from the burning blade, yet he was not unscathed. The smell of burning flesh would cover the aroma of the food, for there was now a gash burned into his arm.

Pain was not new to the Zabrak. Much of his childhood was spent with beatings to prevent pain from hurting him ever again, but the burning. Well, that was always something that got to him. With his right hand being the dominant one, his sword dropped from his hand as he retreated. The burned right arm would be held to his chest , and his left close to his thigh. The mechanical thigh. In the past he had always held a saber within the mechanical limb az a last resort, and this was no different.

But he still had his other saber. With his left hand he would call the duel phased blade strapped to his waist to his palm, igniting the white blue blade. His feet, however, showed no stance, and he seemed to be standing there. But an experienced duelist such as [member="Vrag"] would be able to see the looseness of his form. Already he was shifting his form into something she may recognize.

Makashi.

 

[Vrag]

When the man dropped his sword, Vrag was surprised, but not deterred in the least. Like any good duelist would, the firrerreo pressed her advantage while she had it, exploiting the fact that, for the moment, her opponent was essentially defenseless.

She thrust forward with a vicious strike, extending her already considerable reach with a ballestra, aiming her red blade at the unprotected belly of the man. The Force was still flowing through her veins, making an already fast motion even quicker, and Vrag almost felt sorry that she was about to execute shiak upon his admittedly well-defined rectus abdominis.

Well, such was the fate of those who foolishly let go of their weapons mid-fight. Whether her attack found its target or not, her powerful thigh muscles were more then ready to spring her into a forward recovery. And in the highly doubtful event that her foe would somehow avoid her blade, he would be more or less forced to retreat back onto her picnic blanket; a blanket that was riddled with food, dishes and baskets. So many objects to trip upon in a hasty retreat.

[member="Krest"]

[[OOC: yeah, sorry for the post-interrupt / post-cut, whatever you call it, but no half-decent fighter would pass up an opportunity like that ]]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"]

And so it seemed he wasn't going to be able to retreat. Krest gritted his teeth a bit as the girl lunged forward, but he had already proven that he wasn't defenseless. Combat was always about action and reaction, and his body was trained to react without his thought. As the blade came in close, another of his barriers would erect, if weak, to give him enough time to turn his body to the left and let the blade pass by. The barrier would shatter before he could get completely out of the way, causing the smell of singed flesh to fill the air once again. It wasn't as bad as his arm though. A light burn.

As he did this, both of his hands would come around. Knowing full well that part of the purpose of Makashi was quick changes with the saber, he'd go to separate himself as quickly as possible. A quick push would be used not to blow [member="Vrag"] back, but to send Krest a good distance away. Of course, the blast very well could affect his opponent, but he was much more focused on getting his saber into his left hand. He wouldn't even bother with a stance yet.

 

[Vrag]

She didn't know whether to be impressed or baffled at his adroitness, but one thing was for sure; it was frustrating as hell. Instead of having a shish-kebab to add to her dinner menu, she had a dancing piece of rare steak. An situation that ought to be corrected, certainly, for eating raw meat was a serious health deterrent, and Vrag was nothing if not cautious about her diet.

In addition to the barrier, her opponent managed to squeeze in another Force push — damn, that speed — brutally disturbing her intricate tempo. Since she was already moving backward, the blow only managed to force her into taking an additional step in order to catch her balance. Still, her stumble was but a small one, whereas her foe was in for some rather bigger problems. As expected, his less than gracious retreat had him headed directly into her as of yet untouched dinner, and the Sith wondered how exactly the man intended to avoid her picnic basket.

To help resolve that question in her favor, the firrerreo thrust her left hand forward to imitate a Force push of her own, hoping that the feigned gesture would elicit a reflexive step backward from [member="Krest"]. Her adversary had displayed nothing short of astounding reactions in their short duel, and Vrag was more than willing to use it against him.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Throughout all of thus, his blue eyes never once wavered from [member="Vrag"] 's armored form. Which may have been why, as she raised her hand, he found his back foot planted firmly on top of one of the sticky sweet desserts. Which, unfortunately for him, caused a slip of his left foot. He would seem to catch himself, but something seemed off. His right leg hadn't moved with the slip. His blue eyes never wavered. Even the force could be felt building up around him. But his saber did deactivate, and his arms swung out to get him balance, or so it looked.

 

[Vrag]

My sweetroll!

Such a transgression couldn't go unpunished! Vrag ground her teeth in a sudden bout of rage and yanked his right leg forward with a fierce Force pull, aiming to spread his legs too far for recovery; not to mention it would probably rip his pants apart and put strain on his adductor and hamstring muscles. One can only hope.

Her ignited blade stayed firm in her hand, positioned in the fourth guard to deflect any attempts her opponent might make. He had proven to be very flexible, after all, and the Sith was keeping an eye out for nasty surprises.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Vrag"] would find the Zabrak with a rather surprised look on his face. The Zabrak was extremely flexible. It's what he needed to be a bladesman. Stiffness would lead to breakage. But he wasn't ready to have his leg pulled from under him. He'd end up on the ground, curling up a bit. Damn that was extremely painful, for he pulled something much more personal.

His force build up would however remain as he stayed curled there, but something about his signature was off. It was like it had shrunk away to nothing.

 

[Vrag]

Even as her opponent sank to the ground, Vrag moved forward and to her left like a breeze, keeping to his injured right side where she knew he couldn't lash out. He was down, his mobility severely limited compared to hers, and the duelist went in to exploit this weakness with glee. Her blade fell upon the man in a quick downward strike from the fourth guard, generating far more force than a tierce would have.

Her hips followed the arc of her arm, and she put the twisting motion behind her attack as well, bringing her left foot behind her again in the same movement. The sideways slash of her lightsaber would bite into his right scapula and shoulder blade if the blow connected, easily severing the already injured limb.

[member="Krest"]