Faction King of the Hill -Diarchy (and friends)

[Maldor Sancetti]

The Lilaste Order LAATs soon responded to requests for aid, swiveling to bring their thrusters to bear on their target: Not enemy troops this time, but rather the enemy smoke screening them from detection.

The smoke should have been quickly dispersed, but some force was in action here to create a counter-pressure force. It seemed to Maldor that force-users on each side were manipulating the atmosphere, trying to maneuver conditions to their advantage.

As that battle raged, repeating blaster bolts lanced out from the shrouded enemy positions. Not wildly. Careful bursts. Aimed bursts. Rellik was neither a fool nor was he impulsive. He did not recklessly seize upon a momentary advantage. Rather, he sipped from its cup with a discerning palate, tasting for the moment the battle might turn.

Finally, though, it seemed the atmospheric battle was beginning to go in his favor. The vectored thrust pushed aside the curtain of smoke. But it did not come without cost. A burst of blaster-fire peppered one of the LAATs, and the combat computer overseeing this battle declared it a casualty.

Maldor gritted his teeth as he advanced. Reign's forces returned fire, of course, claiming some casualties of their own. But there was definitely the sense that things had not gone their way so far.

Drones began to swarm in, met by mysterious gusts of wind. Unfortunately, these devices had been designed with atmospheric flight in mind. A few went astray, but nothing short of a full-on hurricane would sweep them all from the sky.

They began spiraling down, bumping soldiers to force them out of concealment or cover, allowing Rellik's men could shoot them. Maldor had to sweep his training foil in wide, continuous arcs to deflect both Blaster Fire and drone charges.

At least the Lilaste forces were doing well. It seemed Laphisto was immune the the obscurement of the smoke, and his troops had made advances under his direction, even without the LAAT's thrust vectoring to clear the man-made-mist. So, that one flank had been advancing fairly steadily.

An entire battle could hinge on one flank. It was not to be despised.

Maldor marched on, not far from his Diarch. If he could get within arm's reach of the enemy, he could begin to repay them for the casualties they'd inflicted here...

Then Lyssara appeared and gave a challenge. Maldor maneuvered in case it would become necessary to fight her.

"Are we honoring duels in the middle of this battle?" He did not know the full extent of Reign's battlefield etiquette. The Diarchs tended to be frustratingly honorable at times.


Sâs Pen’kar Zara Saga Lyssara Thrynn Daniel Washburne Xian Xiao Zinayn Iandre Athlea Diarch Reign Maldor Sancetti Yorran Vosk Laphisto @Diarch Reign

 

[Nyva Shei]

From the beginning, I've found her reckless. She didn't listen to the briefing; she immediately went off on a mission to gather information and look for someone and I know exactly who it is. So, naturally, I decided to follow her to cover her back with my sniper from afar.

My invisibility skill is incredibly useful. It allows me to position myself anywhere unnoticed. She gives me simple instructions through our personal commlinks.

"If you ever see Ryu, don't touch him he's mine. Neutralize anyone who gets in my way, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress, I understand."

When I see her heading toward the tower, with the Diarch Reign standing in front of it, saber drawn, I have to admit I get a little scared. She's drawn her own Nightsister blade too, which is odd; normally she always uses her lightsaber, but this time she's chosen differently.

Her obsession with Ryu… neutralizing everything and everyone else just to face him alone at this point, it's more than visceral. Why is she so desperate to prove something to him? I mean… he's just a man, isn't he?

I glance outside. Troops are moving. I'm no longer alone here House Sancetti is out, watching to see whether the Mistress becomes a problem.

I sneak up on one of their units and discreetly steal a walkie-talkie, then change positions. I observe everything through my sniper scope and remain on standby. I activate their communication channel directed to Maldor Sancetti

"I am here, and i don't hesitate to shoot you, if you interfere i see you in my visual. The mistress is in, my under protect. "

That stolen walkie-talkie is quite handy. This little threat should make them nervous they've got other problems to deal with, and yes, I'm one of them. They can easily recognize my voice over their comlink. They know I'm not the type to miss a target. Fortunately for them, I shoot to paralyze no fatalities among the Diarchy.

The Mistress seems to have forgotten that part. She's not even pretending anymore. She only wants one man. She doesn't care about the tower that much, I've understood perfectly. But, she is not alone, i am here too.

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara loved it when they fought back.

The telltale snap-hiss of a lightsaber flaring to life cut through the haze like a challenge shouted across a ballroom floor. "Oooh," she cooed mid-leap, "we're doing lightsabers now? I feel so underdressed."

Her feet hit the ground, barely, and Iandre was already moving. Then came the hand: blunt, sudden, aiming to grapple her. "Ha, no you don't!" she started, twisting to avoid it, but it was too late. Iandre's leg snapped out in a sweeping motion. Zara, too caught up in her quip, tripped like a bad decision in high heels. She went down hard, her back smacking into the dirt with an "oof" that knocked the wind from her.

Flat on the ground, blinking up at the gray sky through the haze, she groaned theatrically. "Ugh. Rude. I just got this jacket clean."

But her hand was already moving. In one quick motion, Zara jabbed upward with the stun baton, aiming for Iandre's side. It wasn't a killing blow, or even particularly graceful, but it was desperate and sharp. Her boots kicked at the ground beneath her, trying to slide herself out from under Iandre's looming form while striking from below.

"You better not be smiling under that helmet," she growled, the glee in her voice utterly betraying her.

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto continued directing his troops with professional precision. As the smoke cleared, helmet HUDs toggled dynamically between thermal and infrared modescycling through spectrums depending on tactical need. Once visibility normalized, the filter systems disengaged, returning views to standard optical.

One of Lilaste Order's primary psychological tools lay in the distinctive crack of their weapons. Soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, unleashing round after round in tight salvoes: rubber-coated stun slugs that echoed sharply through the valley. Each shot was half-loaded engineered to disable rather than killbut the sonic boom and sharp impact created a potent fear factor.

The rounds thundered into makeshift cover, ricocheting off stone barricades and bunker edges. Some whizzed mere inches from infantry, eliciting instinctive dives and staggered retreats. Others struck with precision, delivering high-voltage jolts that sent wearied simulation targets wheeling backward, convulsing in spasms before collapsing under the non-lethal shock.

Laphisto was far too focused on ground coordination issuing commands, scanning movement feeds that he didn't even notice the gust of wind Xiansent toward him. Not until it slammed into him, hurling him off balance, did he register it. For a moment, he was airborne debris: grit slamming into his armor, wings shaking in turbulent gusts. Then he wrenched control of the air and unleashed a compact shockwave from his centerblasting the lifted dust away and clearing his space. The debris dispersed outward as he rumbled into a steady hover.

With his Force Sight still active, he pivoted his gaze toward the origin of the attack and spotted Xian hovering ahead his
His eyebrow arched in surprise. not anger,-despite the glair plastered on his face but a calculated respect. She'd executed that gust with precise timing to compromise his lift commendable and shortly after spotting her he surged forwards With a beat of his wings In one seamless motion, he ignited his saber and extended it from his right handblade poised in a fluid arc aimed at intercepting her the moment he closed the distance. Yet he remained fully ready to barrel-roll out of the way if she shifted focus or attempted to counter.

Xian Xiao

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Inventory - Conviction - Blooded Seer Cloak - Spear

Diarch Rellik floated above with preternatural grace in defiance of the chaos below. His boots never touched earth. He hovered just ahead of the advancing Diarchy line, cloak billowing behind him, golden saber Conviction casting a muted light through the dissipating smoke. The hum of E-Webs and clash of non-lethal bolts were the heartbeat of the battlefield.

Below him, the Diarchy Internal Security Force and clones moved in perfect discipline, shields locked in a testudo-like wall, their advance a crawling fortress of resolve. Smoke clung to them like a second skin, curling around the flanks as troopers fired from the inner corridor. Tarn, he thought with satisfaction, has them moving like a hammer. The moment the drones dispersed their payloads, the entire forward column surged forward.

The battle was going to their advantage, Xian was doing good. His gaze found Laphisto, cutting through the sky like a blade of fate, wings spread and saber ignited. Rellik's fingers curled tighter around the shaft of the Spear of the Star-Fallen King, the weapon vibrating faintly with anticipation. Kiev'aran to Kiev'aran. It wanted the challenge. The warden yearned for it. He is not our quaary. The words were more reminder than command. The spear quieted in his hand, the vibration subdued, patient for now.

Then came the shift.

Laphisto looked stoic as ever, hanging above the combat. Rellik ever thinking that their fights were as equals in the grand scheme and one day he would need to test those waters again. Instead he had to deflect bolts, keep his men in line and win the games. Not admire Laphisto. Yet, he did for a moment and in that moment he breathed. With every wingbeat, the swirling fog parted like tides around a stone, pulled in and scattered by with force to their flanking units.

Moments later, the Lilaste Order LAET/I's came roaring in, thrusters vectoring with violent precision. The pressure front from their engines blasted down the remnants of the smoke column in bursts, carving through the mist until the entire forward line stood exposed. No more curtain. No more concealment.

Now came the punishment.

The Lilaste Order dug in, iron disciplines taking hold. From elevated nests and hastily raised rock walls, the rhythm of stunfire doubled. Round after round cracked through the air, measured, focused, unrelenting. Their salvos weren't meant to win outright, they were meant to break morale. To punish those who dared stray beyond the wall and they did.

And still, the shielded column held but not all had remained inside.

Rellik's eyes scanned the field with surgical precision, reading the movements, the flares of emotion through the Force. There was a certain aura he could not ignore no matter how much he tried. Through the now-cleared corridor he saw Iandre Athlea .

She stood strong, mid-command, directing the Red Lancers with the ease of a veteran. Her hands moved with purpose, shaping the terrain, reinforcing lines. She was radiant. His chest tightened but he could not linger. He could not afford to.

He took one last glance and saw his pupil Xian Xiao . She had risen to the challenge and was pelting Laphisto for his tricks. Rellik was beyond proud of her. It was not that she would win. Nor was his words about why she would face him entirely true. She had steadied her resolve and chosen to stand up for herself, for him, for the Diarchy. It was enough to make him smile deeply.

Finally, his gaze turned toward the tower. At its base stood Reign. Not hidden. Waiting. Rellik rose to the top as the Arc troopers did. He walked over to the other side of the tower and looked down at his brother, a slight tone of mockery in his eyes. His team could declare victory technically. A rather interesting idea but that was not the point of these games. Lets see who can hold it for some time not just land here.

Then he raised his spear and hurled it to the ground, the weapon tore through the air with a scream of promise, embedding itself in the ground at Reign's feet with a thunderous crack.

"Hold onto it," Rellik called out, his voice layered with steel and memories of when he fought with his brother against their greatest challenge. When they fought Kakus for their lives. What their father said as he challenged them. "Face me if you dare."

An invitation to rise. The same one their father had given them so long ago now.

Sâs Pen’kar Laphisto Iandre Athlea Xian Xiao Diarch Reign Maldor Sancetti

 

[Tarn Ekkard]

Tarn moved like a stone in a river, unyielding against the tide of chaos. The testudo formation surged forward under his command, shields locked, boots pounding into dirt. Smoke curled low over their formation, a tactical veil now thinning, betrayed by jet-wash "those damn LAATs overhead. Vehicles weren't supposed to be in play." He scowled beneath his matte-black helm.

"Shields up! Advance three paces! Inner line rotate, bump, and grind through to get clean shots. Follow the enemy tracers. We hold, we win!" he barked over the squad comms. The column responded in disciplined rhythm, but cracks were forming. A few DISF troopers that were young and raw peeled off chasing targets as the fog lifted and they paid for it, twitching under Lilaste stun rounds. Tarn didn't flinch. He stomped toward the breach, grabbed the next soldier in line, and yanked him into place by the collar.

"No gaps. You leave your post, you die. Get back in the line!" Stun bolts glanced off his phrik-plated shoulders as he walked the edge of the formation, calling orders like a legionnaire of old. His armor hissed with impacts but held strong. Every jolt felt like a curse from the battlefield itself, but he welcomed it. The rookies needed to see it. How easy even he could die if it were not for his gear.

The LAATs roared past again. The blasts from their engines had cleared the last of the smoke. Tarn squinted up at them with a quiet grimace. "Cheating bastards," he muttered. But then he gave a short nod. "Good. War's not fair. Let them learn it now."

Blasterfire lit the field like lightning. The DISF and clones returned fire from within the corridor. the other half shielding the line. It worked, but just barely. Too many of these boys were trained for riot control, not war. In contrast, the clones moved like clockwork. Efficient. Brutal. Obedient. General Sellis didn't have to say much, they just executed. They flowed around terrain, marked targets with precision, fell back or advanced in unison like they were born to it.

Tarn admired them, begrudgingly.

"If DISF had that kind of cohesion sector-wide," he murmured to himself, "we'd be godsdamn unstoppable." Raising his voice again, he bellowed, "Form ranks! Eyes on me, not the fireworks! We are the wall!"

The base of the tower loomed ahead. "We've reached the objective. Form breach teams! DISF you are to protect and fight alongside our clone brothers! FOR THE DIARCHY!" The shield wall rippled, soldiers shifting formation. Almost a third of all the DISF troopers and reinforcements from the clones entered the bottom floor of the tower. Tarn at the doorway as he coordinated with both sides. The shield wall reformed at the tower's front like a reborn phalanx, only this time, their backs were to the objective. "Lock shields. Kneel. Set firing corridor. We hold here. No one gets through to the tower. Clean up this exterior."

Tarn exhaled slowly. He could still feel the stings of stun bolts across his chest and shoulders. Phrik did its job, but his bones would ache by nightfall.

"Command, this is Tarn. We've taken the exterior. Interior sweep in progress. Holding the door as told until otherwise ordered."

Zinayn Sâs Pen’kar

---

GEAR: These hands.

---

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Keeping the point of her lightsaber aimed at Zara, she was silently pleased as she watched her friend tumble to the ground. It wasn't a debilitating attack, and Iandre was surprised it had worked so easily. Then again, perhaps it was almost what she wanted.

"You shouldn't have worn something so stylish to battle."

With a relatively deft shift away, Iandre avoided the stab of the stun baton and kept her side from getting bruised. Laughing at the last comment, she allowed Zara to get to her feet. It would make this little duel far more fair. And Iandre wasn't going to fight to lose.

"Too late, dear friend."

Her voice was modulated from speaking with her helmet on, but some of the smile carried through and would be heard by anybody nearby. Almost saluting Zara by lifting her emerald lightsaber slightly, she nodded her head. Without waiting to make sure Zara was ready, the former Jedi launched a swift attack.

Unlike her Master, Zara was not nearly eight feet tall. Iandrea wasn't afraid to close the distance and made a hard jab to her chest. At the last moment, she altered the angle of the stab and went for her right shoulder.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara sprang to her feet, laughter and defiance swirling around her as she brushed grass and stubborn pride from her jacket. "You say that like I didn't plan on getting knocked down," she quipped. "It's all part of the aesthetic." She rolled her neck, a satisfying crack echoing once, then twice, before dropping into a low stance. The stun baton spun idly in her hand, a casual prelude to the chaos about to unfold. Iandre offered a salute, which Zara returned with a two-fingered mockery of a military gesture.

Then came the real thing. Zara's eyes widened slightly as the emerald blade darted forward, aiming directly at her chest. No, wait, her shoulder. Her good shoulder. Sneaky move. There was barely time to react, and though she tried to twist away, the saber skimmed past her collarbone. A low setting hummed through her jacket and into her flesh like a flash of angry electricity. Zara yelped in surprise, stumbling back as a burning ache bloomed across her shoulder. "You bantha! That was designer!" she snapped.

Then she lunged. With a snarl that was half feral, half flirt, Zara dropped low. She feinted a slash with her dagger at Iandre's hip, using the baton to swing simultaneously at her left knee. One blade for show, one for pain. Zara was betting everything on misdirection and sass to give her the edge. "You better be careful," she said through gritted teeth and a grin, "or I might actually take this seriously."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Tower Base
Tags: Tarn Ekkard Diarch Rellik Lyssara Thrynn Sâs Pen’kar

---

As the Myrmidons under Varlo began sweeping into the tower, Reign held his ground. His quarry had not yet made himself known, although Reign could feel him coming. He always knew where his brother was, and neither heat of battle nor distance could change that.

He was however, distracted by the appearance of Lyssara, demanding to know where Ryu Jung was.
Reign smirked slightly at her, and her defense stance with her sword.

"I know not where my apprentice is, but you will find him here, if a challenge is what you want."

His eyes narrowed slightly and he took a step forward, lightsaber moving into a more prepared stance.

"You are not my target today, but I am happy to give you a demonstration.. should you need it.."

---

Varlo and two cohorts of the Myrmidons moved through the tower, intel had confirmed that ARC troopers had managed to find their way to the summit. A way that the younger brother could potentially claim victory.

That would not stand.

"Begin a sweep, I want this tower cleansed of Rellik's forces"

Varlo barked into his comms. With multiple units splitting off to do their lords work.

---

As Reign began to advance, a spear planted itself by his feet, causing the elder brother to look up. Which is when he heard the instruction.. and the challenge.

Putting his lightsaber away, he placed a foot in a curve of the spear and held on to the top, ready to ride it like a witches broom.

He called back to his brother.

"It seems you need a reminder of what I dare do.. dear brother"

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

This isn't really the answer I was hoping for. Then again, it would've been too easy if I had gotten the info I was looking for right away. He doesn't seem to know where his apprentice is. That's a real shame. Still, he takes the time to mention that he's nearby, which just gave me an idea a bit crazy, but at this point…

" Oh, i am sorry to hear that's, i have believes stronger you can help me to find your apprentice, but dont worry, i have another ideas to find him."

He, too, stands ready with his lightsaber. He smiles and takes a small step forward, suggesting I watch his little demonstration if I needed one. Not that I really need it I'd rather save my strength for the fight with Ryu but if I have to face him, might as well do it with style.

I can see it clearly in his eyes, how they narrow as if locking onto a target. I do that sometimes, too. He starts moving will he attack me? Either way, the intent is there.

"Very well. Show me your motivation to show me your demonstration."

I raise my guard in a defensive stance, my sword hand coming forward to position the blade diagonally, using it as cover. I've got a pretty dumb idea. My presence here is dumb. Since my goal is to draw out a certain person, I might as well go all in. Releasing my aura at full power should catch that individual's attention.

Inside, I recite the Diarchy Code. I brace myself for incoming strikes, reminding myself that I'm facing one of the faction's military leaders.

Just as the clash becomes inevitable, both our eyes shift toward a spear embedding itself in the ground. I recognize it it's my Master's spear Diarch Rellik How many times have I seen that thing during training?

I see the boss strike a casual pose, practically leaning on it like a witch's broom, which makes me frown and drop my guard slightly.

I take his threats seriously. When he says he's willing to do something, he's just as sane as I am. I remind him of a bold truth in return.

"Don't forget, it was your brother who trained me. I'm going all out to draw your apprentice here. You're not my target, but I gladly accept your demonstration. Allow me to give it my all."

I shift my stance entirely, blade angled out to the side in an offensive guard. This false opening gives me more freedom of movement, and I use it to draw on the ichor.

A powerful green aura begins to form and radiate from me. No time, for fear, i front face to diarch reign. A very great warrior, if i show him i back, i am not ready to fight her apprentice. I have no intention of backing down from Diarch Reign . With this ichor aura unleashed, I tap into my unmistakable Nightsister energy. I've learned to channel it well since last time. My mother's lessons on Dathomir were… enlightening. Ryu Jung must have felt it. It's only a matter of time before he rushes over, realizing I really am about to attack his Master. My eyes turning green ichor styles.

It wasn't part of the plan, but nothing ever really is in war.

 

[Xian Xiao]

For an exceptionally short amount of time, Xian felt some pride in her attack. While he didn't go tumbling head over tail or anything, he was still surprised out of his command, which was both good and bad. The teen now had his attention, and she eeped slightly when he was able to spot her easily.

He was able to block her attempted strike deftly, and he didn't try to attack her. Her dark eyes watched him, and she narrowed them a little. The debris she had sent his direction fell to the ground beneath them with unheard thuds.

Wanting almost nothing more than to lob fire at him, she resisted that urge. They weren't here to actually hurt each other. Right now, her job was to keep him occupied. Using her Bending, she kept herself in the air, and considering their size difference, she was almost able to look him in the eyes as an equal.

"You scare me."

Wow...way to go. The girl felt like trying to fade away and disappear once again, but she was determined to face Laphisto and show some bravery.

Laphisto