Private Malagarrian Agoge [DM to Join]

[Darth Imperius]

Outer Rim | Malagarr | Thermal Core Conduit
Adalee Thorne | @Nuhura

The arena was set. The contestants brought to the location. It was the first agoge hosted by the Hand of the Heir, but what was it? It was a test, a trial for warriors, fighters, gladiators, murderers and the like who were chosen by agents of the Hand, Force sensitives without training but great prospects and potential. They were lured in, paid, kidnapped or simply invited to the place where the Agoge would take place. An arena had been prepared, not an artificial construct, but a real location, abandoned or not would be discovered during the fights. The goal? One had to win. Win by eliminating all other contestants, win by impression or by mere survival. There were no rules other than to fight.

It was the first of the kind Darth Imperius orchestrated, intending to find a potential candidate for an apprentice from outside the tainted grasp of the Sith Order. His agents had brought a great mixture of candidates from arenas, underworld, nobility, militaries, tribes and many more that would at the end of the spectacle, lie dead or achieve triumph. The place chosen was a Thermal Core Conduit on the barren world of Malagarr. A huge complex of maintenance corridors, elevators, heat sinks, halls and shafts. A remnant of a civilisation that used the very world they stood on as a reactor and required thermal conduits to keep it stable, even though they failed. But their constructs remained, even if they were not active anymore, rather, they were not following their purpose anymore. Hot gasses, toxic clouds and radioactivity were lethal obstacles in places and could sometimes randomly vent from broken pipes or run up dark shafts.

Further, the hand had placed its own hunters in the complex. Massassi. Not the brutes of Yavin, but re-engineered caste warriors of not only strength but basic intelligence. Almost entirely equipped with cruel melee weapons and lanvaroks, they were tasked to hunt the contestants. It was no sadistic pleasure that initiated these trials, it was a cold pragmatism that demanded success over results. It either purged the Galaxy of weakness or found a spark of strength to forge into a tempered instrument of the Dark side.

The contestants would be brought in separately, their starting positions unknown to each other, but all had rudimentary scanners attached to their arms where a ping indicated the presence of the closest contestant, though not of the unleashed Massassi. Conflict was encouraged. In the devices, while appearing to be made out of spare parts, were com-thieves and recorders as well as a transmitter that could be used to monitor everyone from a central control that was used by the Hand.

May the odds be in your favor.

OOC: If you want to participate, please reach out to me on Discord (bramanathema). Mind that it is a selection process for apprentices. If you wanna join with a throw-away character to spice things up - happily accepting those!​

 

[Adalee Thorne]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Containment Cell, East Entrance to the Reactor Complex.
Equipment: Bokken | The Point | Twin Blades of Dirge (All in Bio) | Black Tank Top & Black Light Pants | Black Combat Boots | Arm Scanner
Tags: Darth Imperius | @Nuhura


It was the first time Adalee couldn't craft the right words to escape her own consequences. The power of House Thorne didn't stretch to the outer rim worlds like many others in the mid rim. Influence was clearly everything. In a galaxy fraught with losers and winners, Adalee no longer stood on the podium of the winning side.

Sure, she hired the wrong people. Gambled her money away while cheating. Blackmailed an upper echelon official in bed with supposedly “bad guys.” Adalee cared little for the dramatic hooks that other politicians and informants used. However, the weight of the cold iron chains on her wrist made her reconsider them. Maybe, just maybe this was her final mistake. Even so, she doubted it was worse than anything her father had permanently done to her.

Scars from loved ones cut deeper than anything a blade was capable of doing. Still, it didn't mean she was invincible. She was a Lorrdian, through and through. A simple blaster bolt to the head and infinite darkness would greet her like anyone else. Adalee considered herself “normal.” Nobility to her was just responsibility wrapped into a bundle of false promises and lies. Despite that she wore the Thorne name like a badge, a petty attachment she couldn't quite separate herself from.

So, she found herself here. In a lightly lit, containment cell, chains wrapped against her pale wrists and ankles. A slave to her own decisions. Decisions she made in an attempt to break free and find the truth. It was ironic to her that the search for something more real than her old life was a lonely road, but the life filled with lies was crowded with people she thought she could trust. The last few months at the Kor'ethyr Academy showed her a new world. One far from her own noble existence on Lorrd. It wasn't the first time she abandoned her old life. At one point, she was lost to traveling the stars. Adalee had spent a full year honing her skills with a blade and trying to find records of the ancestors that left her a secret truth. One that could dismantle the House of Thorne's credibility, one that festered in Adalee's heart like a burning cinder of a forge.

Unfortunately, none of that mattered now. Not when the hollow steel walls shook and reverberated chants of killing. Adalee was no stranger to bouts that required spectators, but this one felt different. Every time the metallic door in front of her opened with a new release, another competitor was sent into a brightly lit hallway. The only thing that stuck with her were the ravenous screams hurling disgusting insults to each newcomer fighting for survival.

Cowards...

Adalee thought all spectators were the very cause of such an awful sport. She thought them cowards, all of them. In all her time around the galaxy, she had refused all meetings that required her to be part of such a barbaric form of entertainment. Now, she was a contestant in the very thing she hated. Not by choice, but when you deal with the devil you face more than one demon head on.

In the short hours she stood inside the cell, she had come to find out tiny bits of information. Some of the other criminals that were locked up with her, mentioned that they were on Malagarr. Adalee knew of it as a barren world. The name many gave it was the planet of "Red Sands." If that were the case, who in their right mind would host such an event in the fringes of space? Adalee considered the few she might have made an enemy of. None of them would have enough credits to make something like this possible. This was beyond orthodox and whoever was holding the competition wanted blood.

She accepted she would have to fight, maybe kill to make it out of the metallic labyrinth constructed for someone's sick amusement. Adalee hated them already. If she could wield the gifts of her Dirge bloodline, she would make sure the organizer would pay for making her a puppet in their game. Most of her political career she had been the one pulling on the strings, controlling everyone around her. In this very moment, she felt powerless. Her worry turned to fear as the chains holding her constricted released. She could hear her own heart, the anxiety climbing rapidly before the yellow energy wall in front of her dissipated.

She stepped out from the cylindrical cell and sighed. An armored guard approached, burly and stiff, before lifting a long large box. Adalee took note of the pristine nature of the armor. Then as if being given keys to a kingdom the guard released the latch to reveal the belongings inside.

Adalee smiled, her amber eyes admiring the four swords inside.

First, her Bokken. The wooden blade had made more souls across the stars bleed, cry, and pass out all from inciting a fight with the little Thorne. The smooth sanding and the green colored wrap on the handle made her think of home. She wished things were different, but wishing only made hope a miserable partner. Her eyes shifted, as she went to grab onto her Bokken.

Second, a Rapier. The thin blade was lengthy and its ancient design gleamed in the faint light overhead. The golden protective barrier between the cold steel and handle was a testament to the quality throughout. Adalee had named it "The Point." Looking at it now, she remembered the inadequacies of other swordsmen. In the time she had come to hone such a sword, she must have dealt thousands of tiny cuts and punctures to more serious threats. Adalee lifted the slender blade, its lightweight reminding her how balanced the weapon truly was.

Adalee took another breath, she felt better now. Grabbing onto her utility belt, she began to arm herself. It seemed she would be allowed her very own weaponry. Did the host know her? Was this another test from her father? Is that why she was afforded this gracious gift before entering the unknown? She questioned all these things and as the metallic door hissed it slid open.

Adalee looked into the vibrant white lit hallways, tiny windows splintering off in opposite directions showing her a backdrop of dark red.

The Planet of the Red Sands...

As much as she wanted to get this over with she looked back at the guard and down into the box with her last remaining weapon of choice. The black sheathes were perfectly curved, harboring two deadly blades inside. Adalee's eyes grew confident now, her twin blades of Dirge were the final piece of the puzzle. Since her youth, she had been perfecting a unique twin sword style. She rarely used them, unless absolutely necessary. Adalee understood the discipline of using a blade, but her twin style was specifically designed to kill, dismantle, or end a fight quickly. She considered herself a master of her own developed form of sword combat. Without thought she locked them into place, her hands resting on the hilt of each blade, ready to face ghastly chants of the crowd.

The blinding hallway greeted her as she stepped through the frame of the metal invitation that taunted her for hours. Her silhouette vanished in the distance as the large metallic door closed on the eyes of those watching.

Adalee closed her eyes. This was it. Fight or die. She had too much left to discover, to become...she had only one real option.

Survive.
​

 

[Nuhura]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Southern Entrance, Reactor Complex, Thermal Core Conduit
Tags: Darth Imperius | Adalee Thorne

The oppressive heat was the first thing she noticed. It pressed against her like a living thing, seeping through her skin, settling in her lungs with each breath. While it was bad, she had endured worse before, and apart from being an annoyance, it was no big bother to her. The air was thick with the scent of scorched metal, old grease, and something acrid—chemical residue from a world long abandoned but never truly dead. It was the kind of place that still remembered violence, where death had come before and would come again.The effect was especially pronounced considering the fact of Nuhura’s outfit of choice.

She was wearing the same brown hard leather corset armour that accentuated her well-built shoulders and chest accompanied by a loincloth that exposed her thick thighs. Completing the outfit were equally hard leather gauntlets and boots. They may no longer be brand spanking new anymore and were starting to show signs of wear and tear, but they had served her well in the fighting pits for so long that there was too much sentimental value for her to replace them.

Heat radiated from the metal floor beneath Nuhura’s boots, not enough to burn, but a steady reminder that this place was alive in its own way. She could feel it in the way the pipes groaned above, the way vents sporadically hissed bursts of steam. Somewhere in the distance, a deep, mechanical groan echoed through the ruined corridors, the sound reverberating like the death rattle of a long-dead machine. Malagarr. She had never even heard of it before, let alone set foot on this forsaken rock before.

It was only after she arrived that she heard others talking about the place, how it was a dead world with secrets buried beneath its surface, secrets of past civilizations, or of industry long abandoned. This was a test, a trial, a hunt where only the strong walked away from this place. The weak? They fed the ground, left to rot and be forgotten. She knew what this was.

She had seen it before in the underbelly of the galaxy, where warlords and slavers pitted the desperate against each other for sport. Nuhura was used to such battles and had no intention of being forgotten. The weight of the scanner strapped to her wrist was unfamiliar, a crude device cobbled together from spare parts, or at least made to look like it was.

She tapped the screen lightly, watching the faint red glow pulse in response. A beacon. A warning. Someone was near. Close enough to matter. But not close enough to see. Not yet. The game was already in motion. There were others in this place, all of them thrown into the pit for the same reason, to fight, to prove themselves worthy, or to be culled like vermin. Her boots made minimal sound against the grated walkway as she moved, keeping her weight balanced, her steps measured.

She didn’t know who else was here, but she knew the type of people who would be. Fighters. Killers. Soldiers and savages and desperate wretches who thought clawing their way through this gauntlet would bring them something greater than what they had before. She was none of those things, and yet she was all of them.

Then, there were also the Massassi which roamed somewhere within these ruins—engineered hunters with strength enough to shatter bones, their weapons cruel and designed for brutal efficiency.

Another ping. Closer this time.

A soft breath left her lips, slow and steady. Not quite a sigh, simply a quiet acknowledgment that things were about to get interesting. Adrenaline surged through her veins, not from fear, but from the thrill of the hunt. Nuhura’s fingers gripped the shaft of her double vibroblade tightly as she pressed her back against the wall, muscles coiled, waiting.

Whoever was coming would not find her unprepared.

Let them come.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Outer Rim | Malagarr | Thermal Core Conduit
Nuhura | Adalee Thorne

Darth Imperius stood in one of the facilities old control rooms located on the surface. Its windows either broken and behind shutters or milky and barely revealing the red planets landscape behind them. He had chosen the world not for its beauty nor the facility for its cleanliness. It was remote and it was complex, therefore it fulfilled all requirements the Dark Lord had towards it. He did not care if half of it came crashing down in the process of the Agoge or if some escaped. It was a sorting, a reaping and only the strongest would be harvested.

Almost three dozen were brought here from all corners of the Galaxy and all levels of society, some with stronger presences in the Force, some with weaker, a few even had training in the Force while others were completely unaware of their connection. It was willpower, determination and skillful purpose that he looked for. It was the instinct for conflict and survival that he deemed worthy.

None of the contestants was equal but all received the same treatment. They retained their own weapons, equipment and were unleashed in the complex. Those drugged were not woken up until their bodies did so, those chained were unchained when they could. It was not fair, it was not meant to be fair.

The Dark Lord did not follow any progress on monitors, his mind was fed the information in real-time through being connected to the systems installed. He saw and heard everything when it happened through the transmissions from the wrist-pads of the contestants and where it failed, his mind was laid out across the entirety of the facility, trying to feel and sense the potential.

He saw how the Agoge truly begun, when a Iridonian Zabrak was ripped apart by a Wookie shortly before the latter was screaming complete agony as he was set on fire by what seemed to by a Mandalorian's vambrace flamer. Elsewhere two of the Massassi actually killed each other over debating who would take the trophies of the killed gladiator from Geonosis. It was an interesting but not intriguing start.

A Kel Dor, apparently an outcast who did not make it on Dorin and served as mercenary now, was approaching the Rattataki Nuhura , both their devices showing each other and making it a matter of moments before they encountered each other.

Meanwhile the noble, Adalee Thorne , would slowly see a ping on her wrist as well, an Atrisian duelist, her katana ready to cross blades with the girls rapier.

 

[Adalee Thorne]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Containment Cell, East Entrance to the Reactor Complex.
Equipment: Bokken | The Point | Twin Blades of Dirge (All in Bio) | Black Tank Top & Black Light Pants | Black Combat Boots | Arm Scanner
Tags: Darth Imperius | Nuhura


Her gold eyes snapped open. The sound of the junk box on her arm alarming her of her first challenge, the screen lighting up with bold dots. Other competitors were on the move. Each slipping away into nothing before pinging back into reality on her screen. She counted the few seconds between each dot, only one growing closer with concern. The grated walkway beneath her shuddered, steam slipping into the atmosphere with a vicious plume of heat. Adalee reared onto her heels and slipped away before she was scorched to death. She took note of the danger, prepared for it next time. It was clear to her now it wasn't just the other combatants that were an issue. At least, in other arenas, things were stable. Here, things would prove difficult for those untrained. She wanted to wipe that thought from her mind, but as she rounded the corner the truth stood before her.

A duelist, still like water, had been waiting for her. Adalee wasn't a fool, it was either turn back and get stuck in the mosh pit of multiple contenders, or take a chance against this Atrisian. The little Thorne took note of their stance, the tip of the blade pointed firmly between her own brows. It was clear to Adalee now, this was no ordinary competitor. The stance showed confident and unwavering calmness. It almost made Adalee uneasy, but she too had her own confidence. She took a light breath before placing her hand steadily along the slim hilt of "The Point." She was facing a katana, very much like that of her Dirge blades. Had she not known anything about them, Adalee would have chosen the same weapon to take on the unsuspected challenger. Her training had taught her advanced fundamentals about reach, spacing and positioning. A katana was capable of all these things in its own right, however, controlling that reach was easier with a Rapier.

A burst of heat slammed into them both, the first sight of sweat dripping from Thorne's forehead. Adalee stepped forward, the wrinkle in her tank top twisting as she changed her stance. The straps of it, sticking firmly against her pale skin. Black midnight hair followed, twisting as Adalee turned sideways, her left side completely open to her opponent. Subliminally, Adalee's legs parted, her left leg leading as it dug into the grated grooves below. The other leg was firm and ready to be used for either defensive maneuvers or offensive speed. The key to utilizing a Rapier was two fold. So, the holston stance would keep her balanced.

Adalee observed her challenger. The slight noted armor pieces among his shoulders and chest wouldn't make this quick...if she missed. Another ping lit up on the datapad, more threats already on their way. Adalee's brows furrowed, she didn't like being trapped like an animal. She would need to dispose of the Atrisian duelist and fast. The thrum of her heartbeat sped up. This was different from before, however. This was exciting.

Enjoyment.

Adalee thrived in danger her whole life. From the very day she was born, she was destined for combat. With her father forcing her hand, she had become a distant memory of a little girl and more of a warrior of blades that could use words to shift the galaxy in her wake. Focused and motionless, Adalee waited, internally counting the seconds in her head between each noisy ping from her pad and the moment she would either take the offensive advantage or defensively stand her ground.

The only thing the Atrisian would see change is Adalee's curled grin before it began.

One...Two...Three...Four...Five... - One... Two...Three... -

​

 

[Nuhura]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Southern Entrance, Reactor Complex, Thermal Core Conduit
Tags: Darth Imperius | Adalee Thorne

The scanner on Nuhura’s wrist pulsed again, the red was closer now.

The air in this place was thick with heat and an acrid stench, rolling in waves from the exposed heat sinks beneath the grates. It clung to her skin, sweat beading along the ridges of her toned shoulders, flowing down a path along her chest and back, where her leather corset gripped her torso like a second skin. She shifted her grip on the weapon in her hands.

Her double vibroblade. She had wielded this weapon with great results in the pits, had carved through flesh and shattered bone with it, had felt the deep vibrations crawl up her arms every time it cut through an opponent, both armoured and unarmoured alike. By now, it had long been an extension of her body, of her will, and now it would taste blood again.

The scanner’s insistent blinking told her she was no longer alone. A shadow moved ahead before finally revealing itself. The challenger was tall and broad shouldered. A Kel Dor. Nuhura had fought their kind before. They were fast, their reflexes honed by a lifetime of combat. But to be here, that meant that this one was an outcast, a warrior exiled from Dorin, stripped of his name and status. That meant something. It meant he had already been deemed unworthy once.

She intended to prove that judgment correct.

The armour he wore was a patchwork of worn leather and metal plating, was light enough to allow for agility but reinforced in the right places, a professional’s choice. He gripped a vibroblade in his hands, keeping a look out for the fight that was coming. His breathing mask gleamed in the dim light, his polished goggles reflecting her shape as he advanced. Nuhura did not hesitate.

She launched forward with the speed of a striking viper, her double vibroblade humming to life as she spun into attack formation. The twin edges became a silver blur, slicing through the thick air with lethal precision. The Kel Dor reacted instantly, twisting his body as the first strike came down. He parried, sparks flying as their blades met, the impact reverberating through her arms.

She continued to press the assault. Her powerful thighs flexed as she pivoted for another sudden strike, the second blade spinning around in a violent arc aiming for his ribs. The Kel Dor stepped back, fast but not fast enough, her weapon bit into his armour, cutting deep into the leather but stopping short of flesh. He retaliated with a powerful kick to her abdomen. She barely had time to brace before the impact struck her. Pain flared, but Nuhura absorbed it, welcomed it.

Nuhura twisted with the momentum, rolling into a crouch, her knee slamming against the grated floor as she brought her weapon up in a brutal rising slash. The Kel Dor leapt back but he was too slow. The tip of her blade caught one of the tubings leading into his breathing mask. A shallow cut, but enough to cause a small leak of whatever air he was used to breathing in, which should cause him some trouble, which she would no doubt capitalise on with glee.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Outer Rim | Malagarr | Thermal Core Conduit
Nuhura | Adalee Thorne

The Atrisian had been one of the premier warriors of her clan, one of the personal retainers and bodyguards of her daimyo. Having fought in many battles, having endured pain and having never felt the satisfaction and gratitude that her service should have warranted, she had slain the man she served and the entire family. Turned a murderer without purpose, she had become a mercenary with no conscience. Worse than a mere outcast, but a butcher living from job to job, a life of excesses and violence.

Her blade was the only thing about her that was not looking rugged. Her armor was old, parts of it replaced with cheaper materials of different colors, her face weathered with dark eyes. But her sword was flawless, the katana shaped weapon was her guarantee for the next meal or bottle of wine. It was everything she had. But she was here to make more. To make more out of herself and at her blade's point, she would do so.

With very considerate steps the Atrisian moved, her footwork calm and precise as her blade was between her and Adalee. Her sword held in a two handed grip, though with enough space on the hilt to use the maximum amount of leverage and only ever so tight to switch to one handed if necessary.

It awakened. She made a few short but extremely fast steps towards her and execute a series of quick, short slashes followed by a stab to test her, to understand her abilities. Or to simply kill her outright.

The Kel Dor growled as his armor was hit by Nuhura's blade but did not go through, this little queen was testing his patience. He needed to finish this. His kick sent her backwards with a satisfying impact and he thought her down or at least knocked back to renew his assault, but the oddly round female was back on her feet and performing a brutal slash that he just had neither space nor time to block and it him off from a majority of his breathing supply. His growl turned into a mad shout.

With his large blade he came after her, now limited by time for his time among the breathing was limited if he did not receive aid. Brutal and slightly frantic he attacked her, lacking much technique or finesse, but making up for it with strength and ferocity. And it was as he had almost forgotten his secret weapon. Amid the swings that aimed to force her back, he quickly loosened one hand on the blade and pushed it into the air and forward, a telekinetic push with the Force to make her stumble. He right away jumped in to finish the business.

 

[Nuhura]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Southern Entrance, Reactor Complex, Thermal Core Conduit
Tags: Darth Imperius | Adalee Thorne

Nuhura had barely steadied herself when the Kel Dor surged forward again, his massive blade sweeping through the air with such brute force. The growl that had rumbled from his throat only moments before had turned into a hoarse, primal shout, a battle cry mixed with the realization that he was running out of time.

She smirked. Good.

The blow that had knocked her back earlier had left a dull ache in her ribs, a reminder of his strength, but it hadn’t slowed her down like he probably thought it would. Unfortunately for him, Nuhura had felt worse. Endured worse. She had given him something far worse in return, a merciless slash across the breather mask that fed him life. His swings were wild now, heavy, relentless, each strike meant to overpower rather than outmanoeuvre. The techniques he had displayed earlier had since crumbled under desperation, and Nuhura knew it. He was now like a dying predator throwing everything into one last kill.

Her grin widened. Perfect.

She danced just outside his reach, her double vibroblade a whirlwind in her hands. She didn’t need to block every strike, only deflect, redirect, sidestep. His blade crashed against the rusted floor where she had stood a second before, the impact sending up a burst of sparks. Another swing nearly grazed her shoulder, missing by the barest fraction as she spun to the side, her own weapon slicing in to carve a fresh wound across his bicep.

The wound continued to drain him, and she could feel him tiring. He was frantic, erratic, lunging forward with the recklessness of someone dying. He was losing, whether he felt it or not. Nuhura evaded, her body twisting, her bare shoulders gleaming with sweat as she weaved through the wild barrage of attacks. Not too long after feeling proud of herself, she felt it come a split second too late. An invisible force slammed into her chest, striking her like an invisible wall with staggering force. The impact sent her crashing against a rusted support column, the air leaving her lungs in a ragged gasp. The pain made her recall what that powerful attack was. The Force. She had fought force users before and won.

He lunged. His massive blade aimed to split her apart. Nuhura forced herself into action, her instincts screaming for her to move and counterattack. Her powerful thighs muscles tensed as she twisted, narrowly escaping what could have been the killing blow. The Kel Dor’s weapon carved into the metal beside her, sending a burst of sparks into the air. Without any hesitation, she snapped up into a vicious roundhouse kick to his side, aiming to knock out even more air from him, draining away his depleting life.

 

[Adalee Thorne]

System: Malagarr System
Planet: Malagarr
Location: Containment Cell, East Entrance to the Reactor Complex.
Equipment: Bokken | The Point | Twin Blades of Dirge (All in Bio) | Black Tank Top & Black Light Pants | Black Combat Boots | Arm Scanner
Tags: Darth Imperius | Nuhura


The pacing in her mind broke. The shattering entanglement of the Artisian's movements seeping into her thoughts with a ravenous hunger to process. The distance, the shift in the duelist's body and stance were all taken into account.

Talented. 1

Adalee waited, the internal numbers fading into a distant memory. She lightly stepped back as the first slash came for her shoulder, the shimmering katana screaming through the air with ferocity.

Strong and fast. 3

Adalee's eyes narrowed, watching the blade of her opponent slipping into her area of influence. The noble Thorne leaned onto her back foot, her left arm retracting backwards and slamming into the katana with ease. The thin blade of "The Point" slid against the curved blade knocking the first assault barely wide enough to hit. Then the next, the duelist ripped the blade upward violently. The sudden change in its direction was unaccounted for, but Adalee had been here before. Gravity, Momentum and tactful defense from before had slowed this attempt.

Lazy. 6

Adalee used this to her advantage, stepping into the arc of the blade, but not before the space between them closed tighter. The katana swept past Adalee as she sidestepped the strike. Her thin blade rose now, waiting for the final attempt. The lunging tactic that came for her was precise. The fluid change in the challenger before her was well practiced, this one would be tricky. Adalee followed the movement, the curving blade lifting slightly. Adalee went to knock it wide, but the blade slipped under her defense. A dire miscalculation, for an untrained swordsman. Luckily, Adalee was one of the best in the galaxy...so she thought.

The stabbing motion made the duelist stretch their body with full force. The blade tore through Adalee's skin on the right side of her abdomen, a minor wound. Adalee spun on her front foot, forcing the katana to only cut her, not go through her. It was effortless and Adalee moved like air in this pivotal junction of swordplay. Adalee had moved so quickly, she now found herself to the left of her adversary, the rapier striking forward as the twisting motion came to a halt. The thin blade of "The Point" lurched outward, firm, precise, true.

Adalee grinned, it would take much more to kill her. The internal beat of combat continued to play like a symphony in her mind, growing louder now that she had taken the first offensive action of the duel.

Ten...


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