Night and Day

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
"If you truly seek peace, then do not interfere," Blazing Eye said, brushing past the Jedi Knight to follow his commander. Blazing Eye subconsciously wished that the encounter had come to violence, but he had overstepped his authority far too much already. Like it or not Abelain was in charge, and if he did not seek battle, then Blazing Eye's weapon would have to thirst a little bit longer. The tall Esh-kah fell into step beside his commander. However, he watched the Jedi over his shoulder, keeping a close eye on every single glimmer of hostility. A lifetime of war had taught Blazing Eye to recognize even the slightest hints in an opponent's body language. If she made even the slightest movement towards her weapon, he would be ready.

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Blazing Eye"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Joza Perl"]

The blue skinned Arue'tii suddenly paused, his feet anchoring him fully as he spun his head about to face the Jedi. They had allowed him to pass, though they did not seem intent on allowing him to continue his journey in the same manner. They were nuisances, however it was clear that they did not perceive themselves as such. Any attempts that they made to stop Abelain and his Esh-Kah ranger would be like a wasp attempting to murder a viper; pointless. They had their stings, and they held within their grasp the capacity to inflict harm and pain, even to wound their foe. Still, their opponent would not yield to petty blows as those, and they would swiftly eliminate the Jedi should conflict come to a head. Abelain slowly analyzed the pair of Jedi, searching them over for anything that he had missed in his previous examinations, though he was confident that nothing of extreme importance would have escaped his eyes.

Vorian Adasca was a clever Jedi when it came to verbal bouts, and he seemed witty enough to have enabled the conversation to continue for many more rounds had the Arue'tii not taken more drastic actions. His mind was ruined by the pitiful excuse of physicality that contained it, weak and inferior in all regards. He would be an easy opponent to eviscerate should combat occur, especially given his lack of experience to counteract his lack of strength. It seemed likely that; with his frail build, he would be rather wily in fighting, agile in his movements, but it would only take a lucky blow to permanently remove him from life.

The pink-skin; Joza Perl, was the more experienced of the two Jedi, though her choice to allow Vorian to lead the negotiations spoke of weakness in terms of command. Adasca would need to receive orders from his superior on how to deal with situations, and she would be unable to deliver appropriately under the pressure of stress. Her volatile nature would lead her to arrogantly challenging the Sith, when in reality their goal had not included violence. She seemed to be somewhat stronger in build than her pale counterpart, though even that was inconsequential in terms of her opponents. Perl would likely hold more advanced knowledge on the art of war, but Abelain was eager to see how it would test against Blazing Eye's. The attention that the pair had placed upon each other seemed to indicate a desire to fight, and the Arue'tii would not deny the challenge to his guardian. It would be a good gauge of his skills, one untainted by the exhaustion caused by centuries of sleep.

He trusted that the Esh-Kah would be capable of defeating her, but only time would tell whether that hypothesis would be proven true. Abelain faced the two Jedi, completely removed from his earlier attempts at simply walking towards his overall objective; the holocron. It seemed that the Jedi would not relent until they had matched blades with the Sith, and he had no intention of resisting a similar urge. He scented their blood, the iron smell flooding his senses and reminding him of their inferiority. "We shall not leave" He hissed, his words discernibly harsher than previous; the facade had ended. "Come Jedi, if you truly wish to face us, then halt your speech and speak the language of death." His chitinous hand reached down his side, grasping at a cylindrical object and removing it from it's fetter upon his side. "Forfeit your threats, or forfeit your lives." He growled, his final warning coinciding with the ignition of a crimson blade, casting bloody light upon the ground.

 

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

As soon as his commander went for his weapon, Blazing Eye spin around to face the two Jedi and drew his own weapon from the sheath on his back. The massive blade and its razor edge were held in a standard guard position, waiting for the Jedi's response. The weakness that had plagued him when he faced Abelain was gone, replaced by the confidence and strength of an experienced warrior. Blazing Eye faced their opponents, his nerves steeled and blade ready. No doubt his commander would impressed, Blazing Eye was every inch a warrior.

"Flee, or walk the stars," he said ominously, every muscle tensed for action.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Flee or walk the stars.

The raw threat, the fearless intimidation within the voice sent a shiver down the spine of the Arkanian, made his skin prickle with goose bumps. With a flick of his wrist, he called his coral hilted lightsaber to his palm. Wordlessly, Vorian stared to the two dark siders as his finger slid over the ignition switch, the glimmering emerald blade sprouting from the hilt like a stem from it's soil pot. Muscles tensed and force flowing throughout his body in total concentration, the young Jedi Padawan shuffled his feet and readied his knees, pulling his lightsaber close to his chest in the standard opening stance of Soresu. From the predatory glare that Abelain probed at him with, Vorian could make out his intention to attack him first. Is it because he perceives me as a weakling?

It was true that Vorian was not the most skilled bladesman -- though training sessions with Dune and the occasional sparring match helped him shape his skills into something passable, especially with Soresu with which he could potentially hold off a much more skilled warrior -- but the young Arkanian considered himself agile, unusually strong in the force and perhaps more importantly, clever. He would never win a straight up brawling match with a type of Sith that had probably murdered, tortured and endured the claws of animals and his own 'allies' alike on a day-to-day basis simply to survive and impress whatever dark master he served, but the chitin-clad beast was arrogant and to the sharp eye, the environment held many potential avenues of toppling a theoretically.

"I don't know how much blood-of-innocents you've soaked your lightsaber in, but you will not slay Jedi as you do squealing infants." Held the harsh glare. "If you truly desire to die on this wretched planet for a holocron you won't be able to open, then I will oblige you."

[member="Blazing Eye"]
[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Che.

Jedi were to avoid such conflict at all costs. Even if the Zeltron sensed that it would be inevitable, was it due to her own ineptitude? Or was this simply how things were to play out? Decisions did not come easily to her anymore. They never really had, but at least as an apprentice, she had an excuse for her inexperience and poor judgement. She’d begun to crack under the weight of her own inability to control herself. Very un-Jedi like.

Despite the adrenaline preemptively pumping through her veins, Joza cast an apologetic glance to Vorian. From what she’d gathered he was a sharp young man, but his skills in combat were still a mystery. Luckily, that was the one area that Joza held up in. If nothing else, she’d like for him to escape this clash alive. He’d make a far better Jedi than she.

Glancing over at Blazing Eye, Joza let her gaze settle on the armor clad man as she thumbed the hilt of her saber. A blue blade sprung to life with the typical hiss of a lightsaber as she took in opponent. Despite her delicate build, the Zeltron was no stranger to combat. She couldn’t tell straight away just what sort of warrior this Blazing Eye was, but he moved with both confidence and caution. She’d seen in before as a Padawan, the way some Knights and Masters held themselves. No longer did she look to them with shining eyes.

“Very well.”

With a quick flourish of her blade, Joza extended her unoccupied left hand out at the same time, sending a surge of force at Blazing Eye. Following the tail of her Force push, she’d lurch forward toward him, blade held in a diagonal mid guard across her chest. It was a little odd to be advancing with Soresu, but the Knight moved carefully, curious to see if the large warrior would provide the first strike.

[member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Blazing Eye"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

As soon as the woman started moving, Blazing Eye was ready. Any other non-Force-sensitive warrior may have been caught off-guard by the burst of Force energy, but Blazing Eye was a veteran of the Great War. He had fought beside and against Force-users many times, and he would not be caught by such a simple trick. As soon as he saw the motion, he twirled his blade. as the burst hit him, he thrust the blade into the ground, using it as an anchor to hold himself in place. Luckily the anchor held, and he was able to keep his feet.

Then suddenly the woman was attacking him. She advanced with a guard, a strange tactic, and one that showed great caution. He would use that to his advantage by drawing on his far superior strength to beat through her defenses. First however, he had to get her guessing. Hoping she would think him vulnerable, as he was on one knee gripping the hilt of his sword, he suddenly thrust himself forward, using the blade as a pivot point to strike with a sweep kick at the woman's legs. Continuing his momentum, Blazing Eye leapt to his feet, yanking the sword from the ground. Continuing the motion he swept with all his strength in an upwards slash that if not blocked or dodged would cleave the hopefully-stumbling young woman in half.

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Blazing Eye"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"]

The sheer idea that he would be ended upon the planet by a weakling such as Vorian Adasca was both repulsive, and ridiculous. He had endured far more than the inferior being would ever endure, had lived far longer than it's pitiful body would ever survive. His hide was of hard chitin, invulnerable to all but the most powerful of blows, and he was facing a sentient being that could be harmed if it was flicked by a blade of grass in the right manner. There was no balance between the pair, and the One Escalation seemed to very clearly favor the Arue'tii to achieve victory in the coming combat. Yet, despite his heart speaking words of encouragement, his mind stayed preoccupied with the potential that Adasca might hold an advantage due to his race that had not yet been discovered. He was a brute at times, but certainly did not fall into the trap of foolishness.

The sentence preceding Vorian's threat ran through Abelain's mind, gradually being digested by his analytical faculties. It was disgusting that the Jedi indoctrinated their servants to mindlessly hate the Sith. It was unfair and deceitful that their practice consisted of accusing any and all Sith of murderous activities and intent, despite the fact that they themselves engaged in it hypocritically. Even here, had it not been the pale man, and the pink woman who had first come up with the idea of conflict by arms? If it was the way of the Sith to kill, why had they tried to negotiate a peace, and why had their minds not immediately settled upon a brawl to determine the resolution of the problem? Worst of all of these atrocities however, seemed to be their devotion to a set of ideals that contradicted their own behavior. They seemed to worship their code of conduct, and found themselves to be divine and holy, paragons of virtue in a blackened galaxy.

With such a bright light, all of their foes were drenched in shadow. Whether they were cruel or not, if they were foes of the Jedi, then they were irrevocably evil in their domain. The accusation that had been spoken to Vorian had been calloused, and misinformed. It was true that he had slain many with his blade, but it in nearly every occasion it had been in the defense of himself, or of others. It was the Jedi and their ilk who always called forth crusades of 'good' upon the galaxy, always wielding the sword that they blessed as righteous. No, he did not know how many he had slain, but did the Jedi know their number either? The blood was on their hands, good people of both sides dying simply because they refused to be removed from their positions of power above the galaxy. Death was death, no matter how justified they tried to make it, and that was a truth that the Arue'tii clung to as his crag.

"I do not kill children. Your ilk disgust me with their deceit, their envious lies. You seek warfare, claiming that you wish for good, but I have found that it is always those men who preach peace that clasp the most dangerous swords." He spun his blade once, eliciting a gentle screech as the energy sizzled through the air. "You have my congratulations, Jedi. I have never met greater hypocrites than yourselves." With his statement given, the Arue'tii sprinted forth, a rapid burst of energy apparently amplified by his hate of the Jedi, worked into being by the mental conversation he had been holding. His blade lifted upwards, before striking down roughly towards the Jedi's skull in a practiced move of Shii-Cho. It was true that Abelain was not an extremely talented warrior in terms of swordplay, but he made up for his faults in unadulterated ferocity, and the blade would slash down many times more, attempting to pound quickly away at any pitiful defenses that the pale man put up.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

It is always those men who preach peace that clasp the most dangerous swords.

Even as the chitin-clad dark sider threw himself forward, lightsaber sizzling, his words struck deeply into the chinks of mental armor. The Silver Sanctum, the Galactic Republic; all they had ever done was defend themselves and the territory that willingly joined their realms, was it not so? Was it? Is this what they call Dun Moch? Vorian had little time to further ponder on the implications of the beings' words, before the creature lifted it's lightsaber and hurled it downwards in a wholly vicious vertical swing that had no other purpose but to split the young Jedi's head in two like a burning melon. Muscles exploding with the raw surge of adrenaline and force, the Arkanian met beam to beam, air filled with the hissing howl of connecting containment fields. The raw kinetic impact had caused Vorian's arms to buckle, his wrists to bruise, but still he held if no other reason than the primal urge to protect his own life.

The next moments were a battle addled blur, the Padawan's mind addled with chemicals and supreme focus upon the dancing emerald and crimson beams that would determine whether he would leave this tropical disease infested planet drawing breath or 'walking the stars.' With an abrupt chill, Vorian came into the true understanding that this was life or death. The young scholar was no fool, he knew battle was not glorious and that death often found those who deserved it the least the quickest, but reading about Battles upon Ruusan and Coruscant within a comfortable, air conditioned classroom with a warm cup of tea divorced him utterly from the true reality of brutal combat.
He is trying to kill me!

Abelain had been hammering Vorian's defenses, the non-aggressive, energy conserving style of Soresu seemingly delaying only the inevitable. The tiniest slip of the lightsaber through his clammy hands, a stagger if he tripped over a stone while back pedaling, even a flicker of fatigue would mean this.. monster would not only lack any hesitance, but absolutely relish eviscerating him. As the crimson beam of concentrated plasma came a hair's length away from severing his throat, something awoken inside of the Padawan. The raw, animal ferocity that was survival instinct. Tapping into a virulent strength Vorian did not realize he possessed, he blocked a strike from Abelain with one hand, and before the physically superior dark sider would simply bat away the 'scrawny' arm that held it, unleashed a potent force push into the gut of the creature.

I will survive this.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="Joza Perl"]
[member="Blazing Eye"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s eyes narrowed a hair when the warrior managed to block her Force push with his blade. Clever, but she was testing his mettle as she was sure he would be testing her own. Typically only the overconfident or very naïve rushed forward with no thought of their opponent into melee combat—she had scars to show for it during her days as a Padawan. As eager as she may have seemed to clash blades, the Zeltron was somewhat more calculating in live combat.

The warrior was on one knee now as she advanced. In a movement quicker than she had anticipated he could perform, he lurched forward and aimed a sweeping kick at her legs. With precise footwork, the Knight spun around his attempt at knocking her to the ground, careful to keep watch of his blade. But she’d overestimated his reach, and found herself maneuvering into the path of his upward slash. Jerking backward, Joza attempted to clear the weapon completely. The sword practically hissed through the air as it headed towards her, the upward strike nicking her in the face and leaving a light vertical gash from between her eyes up to her hairline. Though it was not deep, it bled a decent amount as forehead wounds are wont to do. Quicker than I thought. Not bad!

Unperturbed, the Jedi attempted to work her way inside Blazing Eye’s guard before he could retract his weapon and deliver a tight diagonal slash from his right hip to his left shoulder. A former dancer by profession, her footwork was always precise and graceful. In learning saber combat, it turned out to be her greatest strength.



[member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="Blazing Eye"]

 

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="Vorian Adasca"]
Blazing Eye grinned as the woman dodged his strike. Thankfully, this was not going to be an honorless slaughter; this was going to be a true fight. The woman was fast, he'd give her that, but no matter her speed, agility, or skill with her blade, he hoped she knew she was no match for him. Blazing Eye had faced Force-users numerous times, he knew their tricks and styles. He was also much, much faster than he appeared. He make look big and hulking, by an unsuspecting enemy didn't know that he was as fast as any lightsaber duelist, maybe even faster. In addition, he could do things with his blade that a lightsaber-wielder could not, which made his combat style all the more erratic to one who had trained to fight soldiers who were similarly armed.

As he nicked the woman in the face, he was already bringing his blade back. The woman recovered from her leap and he was spinning the weapon, bringing it blade down with the edge facing her. She tried to move into his guard, but he was too quick, and when she slashed he met the blade with his own, one hand pressed against the durasteel support rod on the back of the weapon's blade, holding the weapon in place. To continue the movement, he shuffled one leg forward so the back of the blade rested against it, a maneuver impossible for a lightsaber-wielder but quite easy for him, locking his blade in place and making it impossible to shove against. There was a crackle as lightsaber met cortosis, and the woman's blade was stopped in its tracks. However, Blazing Eye wasn't done.

Faster than the eye could follow, Blazing Eye lunged forward with his hand outstretched, reaching for her wide-open neck. With her blade locked against his, the woman was completely open to such a move. Her only hope was to dodge and reset the playing field, which would benefit Blazing Eye as it would take away any advantage she had from close range. If she was not successful in dodging, Blazing Eye would wrap his fingers around her throat in an iron grip and lift her off her feet.

(OOC: actually had to live-act this move to see if I could do it! phew! Looks like Joza's in trouble, though she may have some tricks for me...)

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Blazing Eye"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"]

Blows continued to rain down upon his foe as Abelain struck down against him with violent anger. That much was apparent in how unsteadily aimed the attacks were, not just striking down in the same spot over and over, but clashing with the defending lightsaber in a different position every blow. If this situation were to continue, it would have spelled inevitable victory for the Arue'tii, especially since he had the endurance to continue this for as long as it took, and the emotions surging through his system only revitalized any weary muscles. It was far too early in the fight to begin to feel the effects of fatigue, and Abelain did not intend to allow it to last long enough for it to factor into the battle.

Suddenly, Vorian recalled himself from his defensive-only station, and lashed out with his lightsaber, smacking away Abelain's blade for a brief moment and buying himself a moment to shoot his hand forward. The Force struck him harshly, hitting him at about the abdomen and taking his legs out from under him with the sheer force and proximity of the attack. He crashed roughly against the ground, agitating loose dirt and kicking it around as he struggled to regain his position. Thankfully, the blow had propelled him several feet away from his opponent, allowing him the opportunity to resume his standing without much interference or threat of counter-attack. It had been a clever move on the part of the Jedi, but it had not harmed him to an extent that meant anything, only a minor pain that coursed through his lungs from the impact of the fall.

He arose to his full height, wiping crumbs of crusty dirt off of his palms and hissing an unintelligible threat against his foe, a declaration of renewed savagery. His oft hand clutched against an item fettered against his left side, removing it from it's clutch and revealing it to be an ancient Sith vibroblade. Upon it were marked etchings of an archaic creed in a long dead language. He activated it, allowing it to hum at the promise of fresh blood to drink forth, and flesh to rend. Abelain began to step forward once more, twirling the pair of blades once within his hands and allowing himself to re-acquaint with their weight.

The stride became another charge, the lightsaber clashing down diagonally from top-right to bottom-left towards his foe, followed by the sharpened chitinous elbow which simply gave the Arue'tii another weapon from which to strike. He followed through with the momentum, spinning about and lunging the ravenous vibroblade towards the Jedi's torso. As he performed his lethal dance, warm words escaped from his 'smiling' maw, "You won't survive this, Jedi."

 

[Tyberius Fel]

The chitin clad creature unveiled a foul, ancient weapon which shivered and hummed with a lust for Jedi blood. One could argue that lightsabers were vastly superior to vibroblades in virtually every fashion, and the fact that this beast wielded the archaic device when he had far more advanced options available meant only one thing: This creature, Abelain, was not a warrior but a butcher. Vorian recalled reading ancient texts, speaking of Sith Lords who wielded their alchemized blades for practically no other reason than as to bask in the warm spray of blood that coated their faces as they cleaved through flesh and bone with frenzied glee.

What broke a man? What turned a person into a monster, a killer? Did the One Sith forge Abelain into a ruthless killer or did they merely bring out the hidden murderer that laid in the villa of every man and woman's heart? Then...

Vorian narrowed his eyes. Any fool, from the dimmest of Sith Acolytes to the sharpest of Jedi Blademasters could tell you that Soresu was based upon the firm pillar of defense. But no amount of parries and blocks would defeat a opponent determined to see your life ichor's glinting on the tip of their blade. Defense could disarm a man, leave him exhausted, frustrated, vulnerable to mistakes but in the end, even the greatest master of Soresu was forced to make the jump from interpreting self defense as meaning keeping one self's from being harmed to delivering harm to another in order to preemptively prevent one self.

As moist sweat pooled on his pale forehead, Vorian came to a understanding of this. He could toss Abelain around, bat his lightsaber strokes away, but he would not retreat one of them laid dead. Even now, the creaeture charged forth, trampling jungle grasses in a maddened desire to kill his Jedi foe.

So be it.

Vorian clenched his long, thin fingers around the coral hilt of his lightsaber, focusing the force into it, allowing the neural pulses of his mind to meld with the gentle hum of the ignited emerald beam. Through Ashla, the Arkanian achieved a total awareness of his surroundings, complete consciousness over the most subtle of twitches of the bundled strains of protein that formed his muscles. Abelain was close now. Blurring through the air, Vorian expended all of his concentration and pooled force energy in a grand whip of his arm, slinging the lightsaber hilt through the air in a force throw aimed at the beast that charged inexorably forward. Of course, the creature would likely attempt to slap the lightsaber off to the side with a swing.

Attempt.

Now, achieving what felt like a mental singularity with his lightsaber hilt, the Padawan managed to aerially disignite the beam of the lightsaber, bypassing any attempts to parry or block, and then reignited it when it was bare inches away from the creature's torso, pumping in extra force energy to saw through whatever material the dark sider was made of.

Vorian usually was a calculated fighter, every possibility distilled down until a optimal course was taken and then followed to victory. But this was a pure gamble, one that could cost him his life. If the creature managed to avoid this lightsaber blow, then he would be able to make mince meat of the disarmed and mentally drained Arkanian and indulge in the Jedi blood he so eagerly seeked.

The thought sent a shiver up the Jedi's spine, perhaps for the last time.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="Blazing Eye"]
[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza grunted against the heavy pressure of Blazing Eye’s sword, finding herself unable to shunt it off to the side with her own weapon. Knowing that she wouldn’t win this clash, the Zeltron moved to pull away and go at him from a different angle but found herself locked in place as one of the warrior’s large hands shot out and wrapped around her neck. A look of shock flashed across the woman’s face as she was lifted into the air by her neck, the tight grip causing her airway to tighten uncomfortably.

But the surprise only lasted for a moment, and as she was being lifted her free hand flew to her waist to retrieve a second saber hilt. As if her life depended on it—because it did—she quickly thumbed on the ignition as she brought it upwards in a short arc, sending a rapid horizontal slash at the warrior’s wrist with intent to sever his wrist. Or, at the very least, entice him to let her go. If she was released from his vice-like grip, Joza would drop into a low guard with the second saber, the hand holding her first saber giving a subtle side wave with two fingers. A vine dangling from one of the nearby trees would surge forth, snapping toward Blazing Eye’s right side.


[member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="Blazing Eye"]

 

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
Oh, this woman was good, though predictable. The use of a second weapon, or at least a strike at his wrist had been expected, and while his intention had been to stun or incapacitate, Blazing Eye was a duelist, and as such had prepared his mental faculties for such a strike. He released the woman and drew his hand back, the saber nearly taking off his fingers. Rather than reengage, Blazing Eye backflipped away, dodging the whipping vine as he did so. He landed in a three point stance, blade held back and head up. He stood quickly and faced the woman, his weapon held in a standard guard. Blazing Eye stood strongly, but allowed himself a few deep breaths. Confidant he could easily react should the woman reengage, Blazing Eye took a few steps back and allowed his body to relax, keeping his mind on high alert. His weapon he held at his side, but in a position to be ready to guard at any angle.

"You must realize now that you are outmatched, youngling," he said, hoping to use his words to entice rage or any sort of emotion that might throw the woman off-balance. Sowing the seeds of doubt in an opponent was an ancient tactic, but still effective. Blazing Eye began to circle his target, like a wild manka cat assessing its prey. Making it appear that you were in complete control was another effective tactic. Of course, this wasn't a ruse. Blazing Eye had this battle, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time.

"You may have the Force, but that is nothing compared to my experience and battle skill," Blazing Eye said, "I fought in the Great War, youngling. I have slain no less than a hundred enemies with nothing but strength and cold steel." Blazing Eye smiled as much as he was able as he continued to circle.

"You cannot surprise me," he said, "I have fought opponents just like you; I have seen your so-called "forms"." Blazing Eye continued to circle, never letting his mind relax, though his body was completely loose.

"My strength alone guarantees me this battle," he said, "How long do you think you can continue this fight? Sooner or later your blows and blocks will weaken, and I will still be strong." Blazing Eye stopped his pacing and faced the woman.

"I give you one last chance," he said, his body still loose but voice dripping with venom, "Stand down, or by the stars I will slaughter you where you stand."

OOC: Thought it was the perfect time for a reset and a dramatic monologue. Your move Joza

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Blazing Eye"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Joza Perl"]

The Arue'tii could sense that the conflict was growing in intensity, nearing it's eventual climax; the death of the Jedi. He felt the grasses and foliage become ground under his feet as he charged forward, blades intent on dealing damage to Vorian. As he neared however, a faint sense of something tickled his mind, a sensation that did not match any of his regular observations, but instead matched something befitting a premonition of events to occur. It was a feeling that threatened danger, that something unexpected was about to strike and render him useless and lame. Abelain shrugged off the warning of the Force, taking it to be an attempt to disorient his mind with false knowledge by the Jedi. Suddenly, Adasca's arm chopped forward with remarkable speed, the emerald beam of light flicking off of his hand with violent force towards him.

Any other being would have parried or blocked the attack, or even have attempted to dodge it. Abelain was prideful, and his pride bred arrogance that muddled the common thought to avoid an assault. He charged directly into it, not flinching or shying away from the hungry lightsaber, but instead choosing to embrace it with his own ferocity. It disengaged for a moment, an attempt to negate any defense maneuvers, but they would not come. The blade re-ignited with a loud snap-hiss, searing through the air with a resounding whoosh before finally stopping with a dull shriek against his chest and lancing off to land in a nearby bush, igniting it into a small fire. The Arue'tii paused for a moment, his charge having been disrupted by the action, and he cast an observatory glance towards his chest.

Where uniform chitin had once layered perfectly over his weaker insides now lay a molten line of the material, a gentle seeping of blue blood leaking out from minor holes where the natural armor had failed. Pain registered in his chest, a burning sensation unlike most that he had felt, something that was both comforting in it's life, and confounding in it's very presence. He had not seen his own blood spilled upon the ground in a very long time, and it begged the question: How? He had been struck by a lightsaber before, and never had it managed to pierce any amount into his hide. This time had been different, it was as if though it had been amplified to cleave a lethal swathe against him, though it had failed in producing any debilitating or life-threatening wounds.

The pain festered into hatred, far beyond the usual disagreeable anger or hostility granted towards assailants. It was far worse even than the fires that had stoked within him only recently, reminding him of the ignorance of the Jedi. This had become something greater, not just a challenge towards an individual, or even towards a foreign philosophy that the Arue'tii was still trying to grasp. It had become a challenge to his very right of superiority, his right to be greater than the weakling, petty, licentious degenerates that wandered the greater part of the galaxy. In short, it had added another reactant to the growing flame within him, and sparked it to newer heights. He had not felt the same way since his old master; Krux Mullarus had betrayed him.

His eyes glared daggers into his opponent, looking beyond him for a brief moment at a tree laden with vines. He outstretched his crimson blade towards the foe, allowing the action to both focus his thoughts upon the vines, as well as to distinguish his opponent and distract him from the maneuver. "You harmed me. You dare." He hissed venomously, his feet beginning to drag him closer to his enemy. The nearby fire in the bush began to extinguish itself from lack of dry fuel, sending plumes of smoke into the air and clouding the area in the scent. "I promise you a death far greater than you would otherwise have earned." The vines would begin to shake slightly, untangling themselves from the tree enough to stretch to Vorian should it be necessary. "Do you understand?" With his final distracting question completed, the vines would launch forward, aiming to wrap themselves around Adasca in the manner of a noose, attempting to hang him from the tree in a makeshift lynching.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

For a single moment, a spark of hope was lit within Vorian's heart as he saw the lightsaber tear through the creature's exoskeleton, leaving behind a burning sear of molten flesh and chitin. The Jedi Padawan let out a sigh of relief, as he truly, earnestly expected the dark sider to crumple into himself. Instead, this Abelain beast seemed to only be fueled by the outrage that what he likely viewed as a 'lesser' being scoring such a solid blow upon him, and only hefted his crimson blade with renewed determination. Now unarmed, the Jedi Padawan lifted his arms, channeling raw force power through his muscles and into his finger tips in preparation to generate a force barrier or shield in a last stroke of desperate defense. A tingle, a sensation that seemed to scream into his skull 'watched out, fool!' screeched throughout every single fiber and tendon of the young Jedi's body. Believing this premonition to refer to the obvious lightsaber Abelain wielded with a deadly glint in it's insectoid eyes, Vorian could only let out a startled yell of alarm as plant vines suddenly wrapped around his limbs, constricted his neck in an attempt to strangle the life out of him.

Below, as the Jedi found himself lifted off his feet, Abelain taunted and jeered at the now helpless and restrained Padawan, promising to deliver upon him 'a death far greater than what you would otherwise have earned.' The words barely registered to Vorian. A immense pounding echoed within the Arkanian's eardrums. "J-...Joza-...!" He desperately squealed for assistance, his words weak and pallid as his lungs hoarded whatever oxygen he could muster in an attempt to extinguish the burning starvation it now suffered. Darkness interloped from the corners of Vorian's vision. Was this death? Becoming.. one with the force? The thought utterly terrified Vorian. To lose one's self, one individual existence in the great gesalt consciousness of countless trillions of the lamenting dead and dying. His very spirit slyed in revulsion.

I refuse!

In one last single primal rejection of his fate, Vorian twisted his wrist and summoned, with all of his might, a force push aimed at the now revealed, soft interior of the Arue'tii. This was not the self defense of Soresu, this was not an attempt to merely 'incapacitate' his opponent. As a vein pulsed across Vorian's temple and his face grew red in exertion his entire consciousness was focused on one goal.

He would implode this fiend and put it down like the filthy animal it was.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="Blazing Eye"]
[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s throat ached from where Blazing Eye had managed to latch onto her neck. The man’s grip was tight, and even though his hold was brief before she’d forced him back, bruising already began to form from where he’d gripped her. On the plus side, the bleeding of her forehead wound had slowed, though not without leaving a mess in its wake. Blood had seeped along her face, dripping into her brows and lashes where it dried and began to stiffen, making facial movements uncomfortable. That, and she looked far less cute than before they had begun. Bummer.

Centering herself, Joza did not move as her opponent began to circle her like a predator did its prey, taunting her as he went. It took a hefty dose of self-restraint for Joza to keep from rolling her eyes, so a click of her tongue would suffice. “Where did that come from? I figured you to be the type that was all blade and no play.” She rolled a shoulder, working out a muscle she had overextended during an earlier swing. “Trying to lord yourself over me like that makes you look weak. Haven’t you heard that overconfidence leads to downfall? Maybe not today, but it’s like…the oldest lesson the book.” She tilted her head, a curious look creeping into her eyes. “I figured someone with your apparent experience would have learned that long ago. Unless you’re trying to cover up your insecurities.”

Joza knew that he wasn’t insecure. She’d already reached into his mind and found that he had an unwavering confidence in himself and his abilities. And in truth, she wasn’t sure if she could best him but she wasn’t about to back down, especially when he’d started smack talking. She figured that her own words would have little effect on him as he viewed her to be beneath him, but she wasn’t bothered on the surface. Though his words had sent a surge of anger through her, she’d quickly quieted her irritation before it could manifest into a weakness. If he was going for mental play, then he’d have to hit her harder than that. Years of getting her butt handed to her by allies and enemies alike had humbled her perception of skill. So what if she was just a youngling to him? She’d seen younglings accomplish some pretty impressive feats.

“How’s about you come on down from your pedestal and let your blade do the talking, skilled as you are?” The Jedi ignored his offer of standing down to avoid further harm. Blazing Eye had already been lumped in with the nefarious looking Abelain, and as such was not to be trusted. Joza would turn to face him, slowly and deliberately without any hint of immediate hostility. Her posture was not as rigid as it used to be in battle, though like Blazing Eye she was also on alert. Suddenly, her eyes would meet his own. “Unless…you are not as strong as you think you are.” Whether or not she believed her own words, she would use the Force to impart them unto his mind—a mind trick, as some called it.

As she spoke, she clipped one of her sabers onto her belt and brought the now free hand up to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ears—and raise her hand up, combing her fingers through her thick red mane and spreading them as she did so. Her hand would hover in the air for a second, and a tree limb that hung over Blazing Eye would begin to shake. A torrent of leaves would suddenly assault the warrior from above as if they’d been pushed by a powerful gust of downward wind. As the leaves descended, so did a handful of Feathered Lizards who had been nesting in the tree. They would shriek in surprise as they fell toward the warrior, scratching at his armor and running about should they land atop him. Using the Force to guide her hopefully camouflaged movement, Joza would suddenly rush forward, body language hinting that she was heading towards Blazing Eye’s left side.

As the leaves would hopefully obscure his vision or her own movements, the Jedi would call upon the Force to grant her a surge of speed, shifting to her opponent’s right at the last minute. She would arrive quicker than he would have anticipated, flicking her saber in a tight arc at his hip joint and pivoting on her foot to send her into a quasi-spin around him. As she maneuvered around to his side, she’d both grab and re-activate her second saber, aiming to cut a swath across his back in one sharp movement.

Whether or not Blazing Eye would take the hit, dodge or even counter, Joza’s attention was immediately pulled towards the other pair of combatants. An alarm bell had gone off in her head shortly before she heard Vorian call out for her, and her eyes landed on the younger Jedi being strangled by the jungle vines. No! Her pupils flared, and for a moment she could feel the heat of the darkness creeping in on her. Ignoring the secondary warning she felt at that, the pink-tinted woman would act on instinct and flick the wrist of her left hand, sending her saber twirling towards the Arkanian Jedi. Pouring her concentration into this moment, she used the Force to guide it towards the vine that was choking him in hopes of severing it so that the young man could breathe. If one of the Jedi had to perish today, she’d be damned if it was going to be Vorian. The kid had a lot going for him.

If she had a moment, she would catch the wound that Vorian managed to leave on the Arue’tii’s chest, exposing the softer innards of the creature.

[member="Vorian Adasca"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="Blazing Eye"]

 

[Blazing Eye]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] [member="Vorian Adasca"]
"My blade has spoken, and so has yours," Blazing Eye said, the mind trick not affecting him in the least, "My confidence is not misplaced. Prepare to die." Blazing Eye stopped pacing and stood, waiting for the woman to make the first move. He knew that she was vulnerable on the offense, and he would use that to his advantage. Then, she put her guard down. she stood like him, loose and calm. Blazing Eye's warrior mind began to work. Why was she doing this? So far she had shown that she was an aggressive opponent, yet here she was, putting her guard down. She must not know that while he was calm on the inside, he was as tense as a grappling line on the inside. When she clipped her weapon to her belt, a move that made absolutely no tactical sense, he knew that there was something up.

When his ears heard the branch shake he responded. He didn't think, didn't plan, he just acted, leaping to the side and rolling to get as far away from the noise as possible. Some leaves and wind hit him as he leaped, but his sideways momentum was great enough that they did not effect him. The scrabbling lizards were an annoyance, but Blazing Eye was far too focused on his opponent for them to matter. The whole time he was moving he kept his eyes and peripheral vision on his opponent. She burst forward as he came out of his roll, aiming for his left side. He had just enough time to stand before she was on him. As she attacked, he went on the defensive, knowing that his longer weapon gave him the advantage if he kept her at range, and gave ground before her. It was this action that saved him. When she suddenly dodged for his right side, he lunged backwards. The hip strike missed him, and it was a simple matter to step forward and meet the spin attack with his blade. Then, something happened that changed the fight.

Abelain had incapacitated the younger Jedi, who was now screaming for help. The woman's attention was yanked away, and that's when Blazing Eye knew the fight was his. He smiled as he took one hand from his blade, his strength keeping the woman's weapon in place, and made his move. As the woman threw her saber, he knew that all her attention and focus was no longer on him, it was on saving her comrade. And he knew that that was to be her down fall. Once again he lunged forward, but this time he wasn't aiming for her throat; this time he aimed for her wrist. With all her attention on saving her comrade, one weapon spinning in the air, and one weapon locked against his, he knew she was out of options, and that there was no way she could realize, shift her attention, and react fast enough to avoid what was now coming.

If all went as intended, Blazing Eye would grab the woman's wrist and snap it back, breaking her wrist. If somehow he missed he would turn the momentum into a spin, ducking beneath her blade to slash at her legs.

"You are no warrior," he would say as he attacked, "Sentiment has no place on the battlefield."

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Blazing Eye"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Joza Perl"]

The battle was near it's conclusion. The vines had done their work and entangled the careless prey within their grasp, and already his gasps for air were audible, and his cries for help had begun. They were the sounds of a dying man, the pitiful noises that the doomed indulge themselves in to try and reduce their own awful suffering. It was meaningless squalor to Abelain, something natural that would cease it's interruptions the moment that Vorian Adasca ceased his life. A weary thought passed the mind of the Arue'tii, a remorseful idea that the entire conflict, and subsequent casualties could have been easily avoided had the Jedi simply allowed them to entertain their work, and to retrieve the holocron in peace. It was not as if though they had not attempted that route of diplomatic reasoning, but the Jedi were vile hypocrites, and their purging would solve more problems than the negotiations would ever have accomplished.

He kept his mind on strangling the enemy whilst his eyes wandered the battlefield, wondering at the status of his Esh-Kah guardian. His gaze lay upon them a brief moment, examining their relative wounds and finding that his ally had managed to refrain from nearly any serious wounds, though the female Jedi retained the same status. As soon as Adasca had been terminated, he would join his guard in eliminating the final threat to their exploration, but Abelain had promised not to make the death quick. It needed to last for more reasons than personal pride, though he did not lie to himself by stating that it had no place in the reasoning. Vorian needed to suffer if he ever had a chance at Escalation, and his performance throughout the fight; whilst aggravating, had definitely warranted his value. In the mind of the Arue'tii, it was not exceptional cruelty to strangle his opponent, but exceptional mercy to spend the time with the slow death.

Suddenly, something caught the eye of the Arue'tii, and an accompanying feeling erupted within his stomach. The hint of premonition struck him, warning him in a way that he would never be able to predict otherwise. A moment later, something harsh and physical struck him within the damaged section of his chitinous exoskeleton, digging at it fiercely in the manner that a parasitic worm might strike into the intestines of an animal. Abelain returned his view to Vorian, genuine fright marking itself over him for a moment as he released the grip of his vibroblade and dropped his hand to cover the wounded section. The Force was stopped upon the hand, deflected upon it by his own mental ability, but it wrestled viciously against it for entry into the weak section.

It was not a pleasant attack, nor a graceful one, and it's savagery matched a bestial need for survival. He could see it in Adasca's eyes, the pleading need for survival, the one that tried it's hardest to save it's existence. It had been seen before, and it had been extinguished by his own hand, but those times he had been protected from retaliatory assault. The chitin upon his hand began to press inwardly against the weaker muscle within, painfully crushing against it as the attack intensified. The innards of a finger gave way with a sickening splash of barely audible broken muscle, splashing blood and painting the chitin a purple pallor. A shriek arose from within the chest of the Arue'tii, erupting outwards from his 'smile' as his hand curled into a fist. Finally, the assault ended, having expended much of Abelain's remaining Force energy, though he fed upon the pain, using it to retain a cursory hand upon the strangling vines that entangled Vorian.

The lightsaber had not been unexpected, but Abelain felt an urge within him to simply allow it to retain it's course, to curl up and nurse his wound back to health in the confines of the vessel. That feeling was swallowed up by his determination to win, and to grant Escalation to his worthy opponent. His hand outstretched, the finger very obviously wounded by the way that it hung limply and the gentle waves of blood within it, swirling with each movement. All of his remaining Force reserves went into the simplest twitch upon the lightsaber, twisting it's blade only a couple of inches so that instead of landing within grasp of the pale Jedi, it would make it's new resting place by forming a crater within his chest.

Exhaustion tore away at him, the effects of the Dark Side taking their toll as he drew upon hate and pain, anguish and pride. His act had been completed, and with it done he could only rest for a moment and hope that his opponent had been properly skewered.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Yes!

There it was! Hope continued to well up within Vorian as he perceived the sickening crunch of the creature's own chitin being pushed into it's body. Imagining someone's slamming his ribcage into his own innards, the Arkanian doubted it could be anything but agonizing, but he hardly felt any pity for the dark sided creature. The beast gave a mighty roar as chitin snapped and purple ichor splashed over it's bluish-black exoskeleton. Something.. primal within the Jedi Padawan was savagely satisfied seeing fear flicker across the visage of a opponent that had armored himself so thoroughly in it's own hubris that it thought itself invincible.

The Abelain creature had managed to muster it's own reservoir of force power in order to defend himself from being completely squashed, at the cost of losing much of his grip on the vines that constrained his Jedi opponent. A weak smile of exertion spreading across the pale, sweat and dirt stained features of Vorian, the Arkanian wrapped his thin, but surprisingly powerful arms around the length of a branch just above him. Using this as leverage, Vorian gradually pulled himself free of the vines. The cogs in his mind began to whirl, humming in delight with dozens of battle plans flowing through his frontal lobe all at once. Could break off a tip of the branch and use it to fully skewer the beast? Or perhaps he'll force push his lightsaber into his hand and deliver a falling leaf strike that, even with chitin, would split the dark sider like a heated knife going through a stack of warm butter. Mayh-

A burning volcano of pain tore through the stomach of Vorian, a sensation of flaming agony unlike he had ever experienced. His dirt-caked grip on the branch grew weak, the countenance of the Arkanian growing even paler than it normal was. He may had well been a ghost already. As if a cartoon character suspended in mid air after comically running off of a cliff, Vorian found himself terrified to look down, as to examine the undoubtedly grievous wound that was inflicted on him would bring it into existence. Timidly overcoming the childlike logic, the Padawan's eyes panned down to the molten hole that sizzled his intestines with noticable hesitation. Now exposed insides felt the humid tickle of jungle breeze that they were never intended to. Vorian looked up one last time, the normally expression glowing pearls that were his eyes now alight with the unmistakable realization of mortality and the imminent specter of death that accompanied it.

Vorian opened his mouth as if to speak, but only croaked and coughed a wad of congealed blood. Strength utterly sapped from his body, the Padawan's body went slack and with it, his grip on the branch. Falling like a limp bag of flesh, Vorian tore through the vines and smashed into several tangles of branches and roots, though perhaps it was a mercy at this point that even his nerve endings were too weak to even acknowledge the splinters that tore through his unblemished flesh.

The dull thud with which Vorian crashed into the jungle floor barely registered to his mind as a sensation.


[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]
[member="Blazing Eye"]
[member="Joza Perl"]