Duel Desecration of Jedha | Jedi vs. Sith

[Aelys]

Darth Strosius

The shattering of relief that the Sith felt spurred Aelys to close in on him. Clenching tighter on the slightly lengthened lightsaber hilt, when the Sith threw himself backwards to barely manage avoid being relieved of a leg, Aelys took the time to remove the sheared off end of his saber staff. It was a combination of two similarly made lightsabers, combined together at their bases, with one end destroyed, he didn't need the extra length of the saber anymore and tossed the useless part to the side.

It took a moment, and he watched the Sith writhe on the ground before continuing his approach.

The sounds of his pain awoke a fire within him that he hadn't known before.

Come here you piece of chit.

The Sith didn't know it, but as soon as he swung that leg, he had entered the Thyrsian's realm. Right hand dropping to catch him by the ankle, he squeezed, and then jerked him across the street, his wild and aimlessly swinging saber hand his target. With a quick and clean slash, Aelys swung his saber down at the Sith to cleave his saber hand right off.

 

[Jyoti Nooran]

Location: Kyber Temple entrance
Equipment: Silver Shadow Light Armor (No Helmet), Hooded Black Poncho, Echani Accuracy Gloves, Sitara (Lightsaber), Avalanche (Greatsword, Back Holstered), Garrote Wire

Jyoti was in the middle of pummeling another Sith when she heard a new voice directed at her.

“My this is a surprise... I didn’t expect to find a Jedi here among the ruins of this world.”

Her striking fist hung in the air as she kept hold of the groaning Sith's cuff with her other hand. Slowly, she craned her next toward the interloper. As a city wide battle blazed around them, she could only interpret his words as sarcasm.

"There are no coincidences...there is only the Force."

A force adept with sufficient skill could divine the nexus of every major conflict. Such was her gift with Shatterpoint, and combat observational skills as an Echani. She could never know exactly how her foes would appear, but certainly when and where.

Their encounter was fate.

Barely a few moments had passed since the Sith's arrival, but already she could tell he was a cut above the rabble she had been beating on until now. She saw it in his measured stance, in the long shadow the Dark Sider cast in the Force. More data was needed.

To start, she flung the half conscious Sith Knight in her hold at the new dark swordsman, giving him little extra push with telekinesis to send the now screaming man hurdling at high speed.

Just how would the swordsman react? She wondered as she fell into a defensive boxing stance.

Darth Interitus

 

[Romi Jade]

Our theme music per my partner:

Spoiler

[youtube]

Still in her sprint, her speed began to fade into the wind as she broke her pace -- she was no fool, he'd likely sense her by now. She hadn't been subtle much at all.

In her last few strides, she sought the energy she'd been calling on. She drew on the ebb and flow of the Force, drawing it closer and shrugging it on like a well-worn cloak. The current then fell in a rippling wave around her form just as she saw the vermilion wisp snaking for her lower body.

She kept her head, and moved her lightsaber through a wild blur, bringing the weapon in a rolling motion down slashing, parrying, the tip even brushing against her suit leg as she batted his attack away.

The hiss-crack of lightsaber smashing against lightsaber drowned out the sharp intake of her breath. Precipitous lines seemed to form upon her forehead before releasing into gentle curves.

Romi used the physical momentum of her parry to carry her. She rolled across onto her right hip on a quick and well placed pivot, then came around, slashing wide and level with her scarlet lightsaber. Her blonde hair reverberating in the wind, iridescent from reflected highlights as it lashed from one shoulder to another.

Lord Kizash

 

[Darth Strosius]

Aelys
---------------------

The moment of hesitation and pain that distracted the Acolyte, would prove to be one of the most vital in this battle. He hadn't even fully realized that his leg had been grabbed, too focused on the searing pain on his leg, until he was essentially thrown across the street.

"Fething Jedi-IIIIIIIAAAAGGHH!!!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the blade coming and quickly twisted his hand to move his own blade to intercept it. When his right hand went flying off, the sabre was still twisting in its now limp grasp. Alisteri impacted the ground again with a gasp, all of his air leaving him as his eye widened; the pain from the loss of his hand beating out the adrenaline.

A savage and pained scream, like that of a banshee or some wounded animal resounded throughout the nearby streets as he clutched the still-smoking stump that was his right hand.

After a moment more of writhing in pain his head snapped to the Jedi, utter rage and pain pouring off of him like a flood amidst a storm. Wordlessly, although noises of pained breaths and seething ones as well escaped him, as he stood up slowly. His left hand released its grip on its twin and instead summoned his still activated sabre to it. His fingers closed around the hilt easily, letting out another breath as he did so.

No more snarky comments or hate filled words left him however, just waves of emotion.

Without another moment of pause, he charged forward with a roar of anger. All the masked man could see was red, and the desire to see the Jedi's head rolling on the ground next to his hand. His first attempt was a wide swing from the left, intending to out the middle of the blade straight through the middle of his enemy.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Spoiler: The Story

Darth Daiara

It had made sense to them to travel to Jedha.

A true temple, unaffiliated with any specific Order, open to all. Where better than to learn about the Jedi? To see where it had all gone wrong and how the fracture had begun.

it was a good idea. sadly...

Even the best ideas could run into the wall of reality.

Violet wasn't certain how it started.

screaming... and blood... that's always how it starts.

Through the chaos Violet had been cut off from her main group. A set of kindly pilgrims with kind stories and tales. She really hoped they were okay. That they somehow found a place to find shelter from them. The Sith, it must have been, the bleeding lightsabers, crimson red and the ooze of the Darkside seeping into the air.

the ancient enemy... hide me, they cannot know... no no, fight, prove yourself, yes! destroy them all.

This made her swallow. She wasn't a stranger to combat, her time in the Outer Rim Coalition caught her with a few fire fights, but it was different here and now. She had never fought Sith before... maybe... maybe she should hide too? Her arm rose up. By itself almost. we do not hide. Something seeped through her veins, it felt like dirt, like moss and fungal waste. This arm, hers? Its? Started to glow, a shine of emerald... and then Violet bled. It burned something fierce and forced her to cry out.

Loud enough that any attempts of stealth would already be failures.

She blinked through the tears and then saw it.

A shining, grotesquely large blade in that hand. Attached to it, part of itself, but somehow distinct. Violet couldn't help but gape at it.

would you like to destroy some evil today?

Simply sitting around and waiting for the next attack was no longer good enough for Aradia. The Jedi and their imperial lovers were relentless, heartless war machines. Every moment spent waiting risked another purge she could hinder-- another attack she could stall. It was ironic, really. She understood that now. Hate-fueled jedi.

The hypocrites.

She would act now, because the next time a purge came, there was no guarantee she would survive. Never mind her master's family.

And that couldn't happen.

The force pumped through her veins, the girl no longer resisting its call. It was a tenuous relationship, one she sought to keep control over. It frightened her, but that was okay. Fear was a reminder of her what she fought for.

She joined the party moving in to strike the Jedi temple, her form cloaked in black cloth as she dispersed through the halls. Everyone had their goals. Aradia's was simple in design. Learn what she could about them, then leave nothing of use behind. It was strangely comforting to not be going in this deep alone again, her nerves soothed as a blue saber jumped to life in her hand. The owner was no longer around to miss it, Kaalia had said, though Aradia bore the shame of its presence with every slash she made at the entrance's control panel.

'Maybe if you don't lose this one, you can have one of your own.'

She clutched it tightly to her, her hand waving the busted door open. The darkness radiating off of her was unmistakable.

They had made her this way.

Violet Horne

"What is this?"

She stared at the blade in her hand like it was something wretched.

it is me. and also not me. but this isn't the time for questions, evil is nearby.

Even if Violet had wanted to argue she couldn't. Not with the fresh sound of explosions ringing through the hallways. She carefully made her way towards the sounds. Less confident stride of a warrior, more the hesitant trundling of someone who really did not want to be here. Sadly sometimes you didn't have a choice in the matter.

From one moment to the next Violet wasn't alone anymore.

Instead... face to face with Darth Daiara

"O-oh..." Blinking there, surprised and shocked. "Jedi Knight! We are in danger." Violet said with looming relief, while her attention was drawn to the blue lightsaber humming in the hand of the girl, who couldn't be far from her own age.

Maybe someone more experienced would have realized it immediately.

Luckily for Violet she could lean on ancient wisdom. Quite literally so.

that is no Jedi, you idiot

Before the young padawan could seek clarification, her hand seemed to move off its own accord, reading itself in a battle stance. The rest of her body followed suit only moments later. "N-no, wait..." A grimace there as she stared at the young girl. She didn't seem evil? Not a Darksider, surely? She just seemed... young... and maybe... well, a little bit angry.

"You are a Sith?" Using that word like a curse.

attack, attack, attack, destroy evil

Aradia raised her hand, not wasting a beat as she force shoved at the girl standing before her. "And you're a Jedi," she quipped, her voice mirroring the girl's distaste.

The room she stepped into did not gain her attention, the world tunneling around Aradia. The pulse of the girl's saber thrummed in her ears. Her erratic breaths. The vulnerability of the open door at her back. Aradia didn't hesitate, aiming to force shove the girl again-- keep her stumbling right back into the wall.

Aradia raised her saber between them, attempting to keep the girl pinned. Violet's age didn't even register on Aradia's thoughts. Nor did the girl's sense of confusion. The Jedi had shown no pity on her Academy that day in Bastion, this Jedi would get the same.

"The security room. Where is it?" She wasted no time on formalities. She was here for one thing.

Darth Daiara

"B-but..."

The Force clashed against her once, forcing her two steps back, where she settled down and tried to make sense of the situation. She knew (theoretically) that being a Jedi meant fighting the Sith. Fighting evil and all its shapes and forms. It shouldn't matter that this Sith, this creature, was about her age and looked so young, so fragile.

"...she is so young..."

This part wasn't for Aradia.

Young? Young? She is going to impale you on that stolen lightsaber!

The second push threw her into the wall. It might have caused a concussion, being thrown into it so hard, but something moldy and damp secreted itself from her skin. It cushioned her back and caused her to bounce back ever so slightly. It happened between heart beats, so fast that Violet didn't even notice or blip at it.

The lightsaber?

"That... that doesn't belong to you." Violet said quietly, suddenly more focused. The oversized blade in her own hands swept to the side, dashing the stolen lightsaber between them to the side. She felt strong... stronger than she had any right to be. Violet knew instinctively what to do next, even though she had never performed the maneuver before.

A flick of her wrist and pieces of furniture detached itself from their surrounding, flying towards the Sith, trying to keep her off balance.

"Dark shrinks away in the face of Light. Surrender... or be destroyed." As Violet stepped forward to meet Aradia she suddenly blinked sheepishly. "That means kark off by the way."

Was the jedi deaf? Dumb? Dropped on her head? Aradia had her pinned with a saber. That means talk, not gape-- furniture came flying at her, forcing her to disengage. Her batted blade circled around, slashing a small table in two. With the smallest nudge from the force, it passed by her, colliding into a heap at the doorway.

Well now Violet was really trapped. But so was Aradia.

"That means kark off by the way."

Aradia snorted, catching a filing cabinet that came for her legs and redirecting it's momentum for Violet's own. A lamp smashed over the back of Aradia's head as she did so, perhaps stopping her motion short.

"Feck, stop it!" She hissed through tears of pain, following the file cabinet in.

She it would be a lot harder to hit her if their blades were entangled. She raised her blade in a simple overhead strike, trying to catch Violet on the head should she try to dodge the cabinet by jumping up.

Violet Horne

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Tags: Allyson Locke
Located: Backwater temple
Gear: Listed in signature

It all echoed behind her as she strode along the stone-hewn halls. Howls of blaster fire and pops of clashing plasma resonated from the outside as Sith and Jedi clashed, a bloody payback charged to the Jedi for their impudence on Korriban. But while the more righteously indignant carried on their crusade Cara scoured the halls of the temple, her frustration and disbelief growing with each glance down a corridor and every corner rounded. She felt thoroughly disgusted, the blue lenses of her goggles narrowing to illustrate the emotion.

Where was the bloody tech?!

Granted, the place was a haven for more light inclined inhabitants of such a "backwater" planet, but surely they weren't at that severe of a technological standstill. The Church of the Force had refrained from the use of modern technology, a choice Cara could only start to express her loathing for if she first erased the temple from orbit. To her such a place was a hazard for proselytizing technological restraint, conning the common mind into believing that they could connect more to...nature. She rolled her eyes recalling the article she'd read in the archives, hesitant to believe they could be so eccentric. The temple's only saving grace was that Cara was still a sucker for history, and if anything the stone walls and replacement kyber statues could serve as a monument to the trappings of the wayward "light."

A ping echoed along the back of her skull. Cara reeled in the hasty step as she halted her pace. Another ping. She shoved off her right foot for a quick hop, almost giddy at the prospect of modernity existing closer than she'd thought. An open door waited at the end of the carved hall as Cara stepped faster, but another lonesome electric snap lit in her mind. A green blade hissed to life as a child lurched into the doorway. His black hair was similar to Cara's, only hers was hidden by a burlap hood while his was slick with sweat. Her pensive stare studied his fear-struck eyes. His quivering hands held the lightsaber in a way his master had just taught him, and his yell drowned the blade's hum as he threw all his weight forward into a slash. Pops and plasmic arcs screeched as the lightsaber met the metal palm of her hand. Fingers curled around the glowing bar, and the boy struggled as he tried to wrench the blade from the engineer's grip. Cara then swept her right forearm across the beam, the cortosis shorting out the lightsaber and sending a spark from the hilt.

"Ouch!" Having dropped the handle the boy held his hand, then looking to Cara with alarm. He managed some courage, spitting a few words of defiance as he backed away. "This ain't a place for Sith!"

"Isn't." Cara corrected with a snap. "Neither is it a place for impressionable children. Get out of my sight."

She then pointed to another corridor, one she hoped lead away from all the excitement happening around them. The boy faltered, stepping forward then back again, then finally hugged the doorframe while slipping out of the room. Cara watched him flee, giving a sigh as she looked back to the door and entered the room.

"Well finally." A console sat catty-cornered in the room with a wall terminal on the other end, Cara opting to try the console first in order to access any data--if the residents even believed in digital records. She turned her back to the door, quickly busying herself with the simple systems.

 

[Lord Kizash]

Now this was interesting.

Already I was beginning to enjoy this new incursion. Just from the way this female Jedi moved, I could tell I might be at a combative limit with this one. Her parry was well placed and reflexs actually surprised me.

Even after countering her parry I quickly realized my target was no longer there. My brow raised in question as I watched her dance around me and my vermilion blade was lunging toward air. A miss. Now I never fancied myself much for spins and pivots in battle. Half the time they got duelist dead.

It seemed only appropriate to mimic this jedi beauty though. When her slash came I was prepared. Taking a step back with my left foot I growled to myself. My left hand raised into the air and over my back in position and my mental jolted. From my belt my second lightsaber came to life midst traveling to my off hand. Our blades met with a collide.

My stance was tradition to that of jar'kai. There was no hiding it. Turning my head to the right I took in my opponent in detail with a look from head to toe and toe to head. It was almost hard to see with the near blinding flashes of light from our lightsabers inter linked.

" Nice moves.." I paused looking her in the eye from the side. " And hair." I could feel a smirk on my face before attempting to push her blade away.

Romi Jade

 

[Serixibis]

\\. Jedha, The Temple of Kyber
\\. ok I post Dagon Kaze

First blood was drawn, the slick gore now staining her spear bringing a snarl of triumph from the Sithling. Her gloved fingers flex along the haft of the polearm, gripping it tighter as the weapon is turned slowly, the streaks of blood trailing across the malefic edge of the weapon. Her eyes dance briefly from the spear point to the Padawan's arm, and that is when Dagon's attempt at Empathy hits her.

The Padawan reaches for her through the force, through the invisible veil that connects all life forms and makes an attempt at... Diplomacy? Kindness? An appeal to her own mortality? Regardless of the boy's intent as soon as that connection is made the Sithling falters, the force around her staining Dagon's senses like a slick of oil across his eyes, a muffling blow to the ears.

She was a misbegotten thing, not so much fallen from the Light but more spawned from the Dark. A creature of low cunning and base desires, Pureblood through and through.

"Pfah! Hrnh...What is it to fear death, Jedi? What is it to die but stand naked in the wind or melt into the sun? No, it is not death that I fear but a life ended without remembrance. Mortality is transient and fleeting when measured against eternity. Take up your weapon boy, fulfill your purpose. Slay me, if you dare."​

Both hands move in a blur, the spear spun once around in an arc of dark steel before it is once again leveled at the Padawan. She does not strike immediately, however, opting instead to stalk slowly around the man in an attempt to move further up the stairs and take the high ground on him, likely to reduce his reach advantage somewhat.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

​

Location: Name​

Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, inherited lightsaber, light-filtering lenses, Hush-style comlink, aquata breather, liquid-cable launcher, stim pills, nutrient/food pack​

Tag: Calin Harr​

Des put her comlink away and shifted her footing a little. Then she heard the challenge. Slipping out of the shadows of the alcove she stepped back out onto the street. Most of the fighting had moved far away, swept up in the tide of battle. Bodies littered the roadway, and smoke drifted on the hot dry breeze. Around them, the Force rolled and boiled in the churn. Calin stood saber in hand. Only it looked 'wrong' in his hand. Or rather unfamiliar to him and his footing didn't look like much of a fighter.

Her jaw was set in a hard line to match the cold scowl across her features. Fear didn't even register, but it was hard not to resent this attack on the people of Jed'ha. She was glad she'd been there, even if it was only to get one small family out of harm's way. But it was all so senseless to her mind, even as the gears turned at a rapid pace most struggled to keep up with. Des expected to be upset at what was happening, with all that had come to her in recent weeks and months. But this ... attempted massacre... only hardened her resolve. It was a demonstration to her that she was where she needed to be. she was on the right path. And she wasn't the monster she'd thought of herself for so long. She didn't do shit like this.

"Whhhyyyy?" One word, and not so much plaintiff but bewildered. Her voice was soft and airy, much like powdered snow. More than that Calin didn't seem to reek of the Darkside, only of ... things that used to cling to her own soul. Not so much cowardice, but addiction, desperation, and quiet despair. He seemed so out of place. But more than that, this was terrorism, not hitting a military target. Not hitting a Jedi target, but civilians. On the street. Soft targets. It was cowardice in its own right.

 

[Mordecai Zambrano]

There was little to be said about the Jedi that approached him. Smooth confidence guided his exit from the elevator, smartly stopping a distance away from Mordecai. His gaze swept over him in an instant, noting the remarkable 'averageness' of the man, yet he felt there was a wealth of wisdom in that wrinkled, impassive face of his. The Sith Lord slowly dipped his head, bending at the waist by just a few degrees, to offer the older man a bow when he heard his name mentioned.

"Master Jedi, it humbles me that you know of my name," he replied evenly, "yet there is very little my family's name will do today. I am not of the royal family any longer, nor am I in command of this... " His voice trailed off as he eyed the frenzied conflict raging beneath them. "This disciplined band of warriors."

Mordecai eyed the Jedi once more, offering a thin, knowing smile that he nearly disguised as a grimace. That smidgen of sympathy made his mouth go dry.

"Alas, I cannot let you pass me. While I'm far from their commanding lord, no doubt the Emperor would have my head on a stake if I let his dear warriors be annihilated."

The shrug he gave was nonchalant. "I have no desire to fight you. Make haste in evacuating and I'll honor your decision by slowing our advance to buy you time."

Iroh Gedari

 

[Romi Jade]

"Nice moves.." I paused looking her in the eye from the side. " And hair." I could feel a smirk on my face before attempting to push her blade away.

"I know..." She titled her head forward, beckoning a kittenish smirk. He pushed her blade away, her arm went just a few degrees off its original position before she thumbed the blade down, swung her arm back past his frame and re-ignited the switch at point blank range. She glided back so that she was diagonal to him. Swiveling her wrist, she flicked her blade at him, a stroke that was more finesse than power -- she figured with two blades now he'd be able to defend himself from a transitional maneuver; she hoped at least...if he could keep up.

Her blue eyes blazed with another sort of light, one that was brought upon by afterimages and lightning-colored energy, betraying no sense of weakness from the fact that she'd only just gotten out of the medical bay no more than a few weeks ago?

Who was counting really.

But as she projected he'd be able to defend himself fair enough, she concluded that before he could do that, her blade would whirl faster. She advanced. She'd used the physical momentum of her backwards glide, falling on her back foot before propelling herself forward and through a furious, humming blur. Whipping up high and to the side, down low - her blade was working some of everywhere to press the attack, gaining the edge in that regard would serve her better in her current state.

The feral snarl on her face, told a story of something going on internally -- she was a Jedi Master, but also the Shadow Hand at this point; silent and focused.

Lord Kizash

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
THE NEW JEDI ORDER
Jumpsuit | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber
Jorryn Fordyce

STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HEART​

Jedi in name only, he carried himself with that unfettered ferocity uncharacteristic of his Creed. He left no quarter, offered no respite in his advance. His tactic and aim was an aggressive means to disrupt and rip apart any semblance of any guard, defense or stance should muster before him. This same tenacity let him end Braith Achlys and persevere past every encounter since.

That wide swing from Jorryn was caught at the vertically held blade of Maynard's cobalt saber clutched in both hands, pulsing his strength forward to throw her blade from the clash before angling his blade down and swiping up for another aggressive cut toward her face as he stepped forward with the attack, once more invading her space and comfort zone to disrupt her ability to concentrate on his attacks.

"That's all you can do, huh? Try and get inside my head, just like you did to her? My friends? No- It's over for you, Sith." Maynard lashes back as he rears his leg up to plant a kick toward her abdomen following his last strike.

 

[Xeykard]

Condal Dunstrum
​

The slash was met by a vicious parry -- Xeykard threw his strength into the strike to knock away the Jedi's saber. With his own weapon in front and his opponent's knocked off course, the Inquisitor capitalized and thrust forward with the same action at the Jedi's breastplate. It was a quick strike and would have been more than enough to kill the man if he were a normal opponent. Yet without his full strength behind the thrust, it was glanced away by the Jedi's armor.

Xeykard blocked and retreated three paces. He circled right, his saber pointed at his opponent in a high guard. The Jedi taunted. The Inquisitor snarled. "Make what assumptions you will of this one, Jedi. They will not serve you in Hell."

Yet that was the problem at hand. Xeykard believed himself the superior duelist in this match; the reach and strength afforded to him by his saber and body were more than what the Jedi had. Were they the same size and power they would be matched in skill with the saber, especially with their dueling choice in specialization of Form V. Xeykard was not failing to land blows. No, it was the armor that the Jedi wore. Xeykard's own had little resistance to lightsabers, being some half-modified version of the standard legionnaire's. If his opponent was landing the same strikes Xeykard would have lost in the first engagement.

Careful study showed the weaknesses in the armor. The joints -- Xeykard focused on the neck, for the most part, but a slash through the knee under the kneeplate or a thrust through the shoulder would be crippling.

He reengaged. Another two-handed stroke; a classic opener of strong style. He feinted a reset only to jab at the Jedi's armpit in hopes of testing the strength of the armor there. Xeykard closed the distance, affording his strikes more power and making retreat less of an option for his opponent, but now he had less of a reach advantage. They danced on equal footing.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

ok i post Serixibis
//

His words echoing through the ethereal crashed into a cloud of darkness dissipating the rays of light they brought. Just as the Shadow eclipsed the Light over the Temple of Kyber, so did his attempts to drag the Sith'ari away from the grasp of evil fell into an abyss.

But he would not give up.

The Light abandons no one.

The Sith shuffled upwards on the staircase, giving her a greater reach and nullifying Dagon's own height advantage. He maintained his distance, observing through the pain stinging his left shoulder before he spoke:

"You are misguided, Sith! Led to carve a legacy for your masters with your own blood." the grip of his hilt tightened and his body shifted into an attacking stance. The padawan made a step forward feinting assault but swiftly waving his hand instead hurling a stone brick from the side with the Force at the Sith warrior.

 

[Condal Dunstrum]

His armour served him well, as it so often did, the heavy plating deflecting a blow that might otherwise have been his bane. Combined with his choice of a blade of trusty Force-imbued metal over the weightlessness of a lightsaber, however, it gave the giant he faced a distinct advantage in speed.

Smiling sadly beneath his helmet as the Barabel disengaged, Condal's follow-up seemed almost exasperated. "Hell is for those who resist the will of the Force, Sith. I do not fear death and the oneness it brings, nor should you. I ask you to abandon this path in this life - or find redemption in the next."

He had been taught to always give the servants of the Dark a chance, and so he would, but he had seen too much to hold out hope.

Moving to meet his foe's vicious stroke, he was too slow to stop the feint and the quick jab that followed - but not too slow to arc his body so that it struck his shoulder, not his armpit. The success was marred by the knowledge that he had revealed much, in the process - a miss or not, his opponent now knew where he did not wish to be struck and by extension where he was at his weakest.

Following up with a cleave of his own which quickly shifted into a feint, he wanted the Sith to think him predictable, wanted him to counter, for having moved close enough he saw an opening - and so sought to drive a gauntleted fist directly into the dark one's face.

A finishing blow? Unlikely. What he needed to start building momentum? Perhaps.

Xeykard​

 

[Aelys]

Darth Strosius

The scent of burning flesh and robes could be smelt, invading his nostrils little more than a moment after cleaving the Sith's limb off. Sparing a glance for the severed hand that still clenched to the lightsabre, he restrained himself from reacting. The curves of his lips threatening an upwards raise as the Sith screamed out in pain.

A gentler person than Aelys would have frozen at the sound, but the thyrsian padawan felt nothing for the wounded man. His blood burned too hotly for his goal of destroying the Sith. The pain his enemy felt was a thing he relished, that he never would've thought of yearning for.

Through the Force he could sense the anger that rolled off the Sith in droves. Rage. The Sith rose back to his feet, and Aelys welcomed him with a verbal lashing. "You're weak for choosing the Sith, the Dark Side," he blatantly said. Disgust riddled his words all throughout his speech. There was contempt for the Sith. For him being one, for him failing to meet his expectations. This was who threatened the Outer Rim? Truly the entities of Light had failed in their duties. Aelys' unkind eyes tightened, glaring as the Sith came straight for him.

As the Sith's saber flew past him to find itself back in his possession, Aelys smirked. His primary hand had been parted from his body. While Aelys was a primary left-handed fighter, he knew that few favoured left handed combat. It was awkward for right handed users to combat left-handed ones. Where right handed warriors typically found other right handed warriors, left handed fighters almost never engaged with other southpaws. Chances were, where Aelys had excelled in defeating the Sith in his main hand, the Sith certainly faced defeat with his offhand. And throughout, he'd be forced to take the abuse Aelys delivered.

As the Sith lurched forwards, Aelys lunged back. "The easy road... And yet you still fail!" The Sith's saber lunged out towards him, a wide swing that was easily telegraphed as it arced in to lunge towards Aelys' centre of being. A trend that plagued the Sith throughout the duel, and it was in that moment then that Aelys recognized the Sith to be as green as him. Hands raising, his sapphire blade angled downwards, batting the crimson beam to his own right before it could impale him. Burning a horizontal swath through his jacket, Aelys, relatively unharmed moved for the counter on the hopefully unbalanced Sith.

Moving forwards to close the distance with a heavy step, with both hands it was his turn to stab his saber forwards into the midsection of the Sith with a goal of impaling his opponent through the lower abdomen.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Aelys
---------------------

There seemed to almost be no reaction from the Sith at all as he charged and attempted to cleave his enemy in two. A part of him did hear the remark however, and that part was only really fueling to rage that had overtaken his mind. Were he in a better state of mind, he would have scoffed at such a notion that the Sith were the weak ones; even more so at the idea that it was an easy path to walk.

He was in no position to form a response however.

Thankfully, although he was in a disadvantageous position, Alisteri did have one particular ability that would help him. He was ambidextrous, and this would be far from the first time he traded hands mid-fight.

Once again his blade missed its intended target, and once again that fact only infuriated him even more. Another growl ripped out of his throat as he barely managed to dodge the stab towards his midsection, the very tip of the Jedi's blade still grazing and digging into the skin of his side. Oddly enough he didn't seem to notice it for a moment. He had leapt forward to avoid the strike, not even bothering to pause to register his new wound as he quickly sprung into action again.

There wasn't much caution in his movements anymore.

By this point the acolyte was more of a raging beast than a...well to call him calculated before wouldn't be the proper term but still. At the very least he had some form of strategy before. Even if said strategy was lackluster enough to allow him to lose a hand, it was still a strategy. Now however, it seemed as if his only goal was to tear the Jedi apart.

One way, or another.

He wheeled around, facing the Jedi again, and unleashed another roar of anger and pain. Holding his sabre high and bringing it down in a vicious slash meant to cut the arm off of his opponent, he charged into another attempted strike.

 

[Val Drutin]

Location: Outside the Temple of Kyber
Gear: Lightsaber | Armor
Writing With: Okkeus Dainlei

“You’re not?” Undeterred by his dodge, Val squinted at Okkeus’ longish hair. “Eh, looks like a light brown to me at best. Or dirty blond.” The Jedi’s next question made Val roll his eyes. “If I was a Jedi, why would I bother fighting you in the middle of a big Jedi vs. Sith battle? I’m with the Sith, obviously. And purple is my favorite color!”

He parried the awkward jab, grinning. “You’ve never fought anyone like this, have you? What a prominent gap in your education!” He slashed right, then left with his blade, rapid fire as he continued to advance, forcing Okkeus to move quickly in order to block the blows. Just when he seemed to be settling into a rhythm, he broke it up with a swipe at Okkeus' head and a sudden sharp kick aimed at the Jedi’s stomach.

“A very prominent gap indeed!”

 

[Calin Harr]

No response. The Acoltye frowned at the lack of things to kill, the Sith liked when you brought bits and pieces to show how good you were at killin' stuff: or at least that's what the man had quickly gathered from his short time as a Sith, and of course from just trying to read the crowd of glowing-eyed lunatics he called allies. He took a few more steps down the street, before he heard something like a breeze from one of the buildings.

Booster Blue did things to a man, beyond just simply pushing your senses and reactions beyond what your body would normally consider possible. It made you jumpy, and you never really lost the edge on your senses: but to tell what was real, and what was fake was the real challenge. To see songs, and hear colors, but here? On the field of war? You could never be too certain, the man advanced, the stolen lightsaber in his hand slightly swooshing around. Looking for the nearest window he peeked inside, green eyes scanning the mess. Seems his abilities with the force were far from as good as his peers too, being so unable to feel the Jedi Desbre Gensan so close to him.


"Ya' know...if you come out now, I'll just bust a kneecap and steal a finger or two! No need for any murder!"

And like a true underworld rat, always willing to throw out a horribly one-sided deal with vague promises of certain violence.

 

[Daeron]

Statues discovered from old ruins of the Kyber Temple lined the hallway Cali Ziiva had walked down. It would not be a large, grand hall like one would find in the temple entrance, yet it provided ample room and nooks and crannies. Multiple pathways split off from the hallway to multiple destinations – some stairways. Light poured in from high window slits.

A cacophony from the Sith’s attack could be heard in the distance – even as the pilgrims near Cali fled.

A deranged Twi’lek Sith had swung his crimson lightsaber down upon an unarmed pilgrim with intent to kill. After Cali defended the innocent, the unknown Sith snarled at Cali – showing jagged, rotten teethe.

Clumsily, the Twi’lek pulled his lightsaber back to then swing and attack Cali. An amateur assault – one that any being with combat training and armed with a lightsaber could counter with deadly means.

And during this, something watched from just out of sight…