Duel The Last Remnant | Acier Moonbound & Lysander

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound
​

The canyon groaned, a maw shuddering under the agony of constant onslaught; flames, lightning, and telekinetic force shredded the stone. At this rate, it was possible the entire planet would shriek in protest. Roaring infernos gulped the oxygen. Spiraling columns of superheated grit hissed into the void as the ledge gave way.

Thermal stress turned the bracer into a ruin of tortured metal. Gravity clamped a frame cloaked in swirling fire and shadows. Electrical stings from Remowa's lightning still danced across trembling fingertips. Gritted teeth locked against the agony, fingers locked into the hilt until it kissed the Sith's bloodied palms. An angled descent accelerated the plummet... like a meteor. The blade became a promise of butchery, aimed true at the floor below.

Only during the final second did he allow for adjustment.. deceleration timed to prevent broken bones, and hopefully denying a window for reaction or opportunity. Materializing behind that lethal Chiss, Lysander's transition to pursuit was immediate. A few closing strides choked off an avenue of escape, trying to capitalize on the angle carved by Ace. So, a choice loomed.. defend the front or risk the back. The trap was absolute. At least, there were no flaws in it to his knowledge..

But that whip was a viper itself, and death to their foe would not come from striking at the head. True to his roots as a pugilist, he believed the foundation must be dismantled first. Pulse rates climbed. Sweat beaded upon the brow. Deep shadows pulsed in synchronicity with breathing of a soul that had stopped feeling entirely human. The phrik blade slashed downward with impressive velocity, aiming for the back of a knee. A quick end was a mercy withheld. Such spite was clearly reserved for those who had dragged the hunt this far..

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

The combined descent of her two adversaries seemed to lead only to her death but Remowa adapted to the tight space. Her agility became her primary defense as Acier Moonbound blue blade cut horizontally toward her weapon arm, and instead of logically retreating she entered into his space, her right hand flicking the controls of her hilt.

The improved lightwhip hissed to life in a violent, coiled snap, the amethyst filaments instantly moving to provide a protective ring of plasma around her body. With her left hand, she smoothly withdrew the beskar dagger from her shin once more. In the close quarters of the ravine, her style transformed from sweeping, long-range suppression into a blend of whip and steel.

Acier's horizontal cut was met not by a direct block, but by a small roll of her shoulder that guided the middle plasma filament to snare the momentum of his strike, dragging his blue blade into the open air to her right.

Simultaneously, she jabbed forward with the toxin-laced beskar dagger, the dark metal glinting as she drove it toward the gap in his inner guard, forcing him to potentially bring his purple shoto forward, in order to lock him in a frantic struggle against her own aggression. Every lethal attack the boy could offer was met with minimal footwork.

Remowa shifted her weight on the sand, tilting her hips and angling her torso just enough to let his blades pass her armor, redirecting his energy into the empty space around her in order to tire him out for a lethal killing blow. Yet, her mind remained completely open to the greater threat descending from above.

She felt the heavy, suffocating weight of Lysander von Ascania plunging into the fray behind her, the heat of his malice preceding the downward slash of Nightstar aimed at the back of her knee. Without breaking her focus on Acier, Remowa performed a blind, calculated heel-pivot. Her footwork on the uneven canyon floor was flawless, tracking the shifting sand without a single stumble.

With a minute twitch of her right wrist, she commanded the trailing filaments of her lightwhip. The autonomous cords snapped backward in a tight, rising arc. The heavy, Mandalorian iron-studded sections of the whip intercepted Lysander's descending phrik blade just as it neared its mark to knock it aside and send him potentially tumbling into the sand.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

Remowa's answer came immediately. Instead of giving ground, she took it. The whip redirected his opening attack and the dagger followed a heartbeat later, transforming the engagement from a weapon fight into a knife fight. Yet another adaption, and another reason she'd survived as long as she had.

The moment the dagger came forward, Ace's priorities changed from the whip to the dagger. The knife had appeared twice now. Once to save her life on the cliff face and now again in the middle of a close-quarters engagement. Remowa had willingly stepped inside the range she had spent the entire duel trying to preserve. Interesting.

A greener Ace would have chased the opening she'd created. Instead, he let his missed strike die where it was.

The purple shoto moved immediately. Not out of panic, but purpose. The shorter blade intercepted the line of the thrust, forcing the beskar dagger away from the gap she had targeted. Rather than meeting her strength with his own, Ace simply redirected it, denying the lane altogether.

At the same time, the blue blade disengaged from the whip and snapped back toward her upper body in a tight returning cut. A probe designed to demand a response while the shoto occupied the dagger line.

The distinction mattered. The months he'd spent replaying Rattatak had taught him that every exchange and every mistake made was because he'd allowed himself to become distracted by the weapon rather than the person wielding it.

Not this time. His footwork shifted. One step, and then another, he didn't retreat or advance. He rotated. The movement was subtle but deliberate as he continued circling across her front. Blue and purple light remained active between them, forcing her to account for both while steadily altering the geometry of the fight.

Remowa had entered his space to solve one problem. Ace intended to replace it with another.

His eyes flicked briefly past her shoulder to Lysander. He'd briefly caught the disruption of Nightstar's strike through his peripheral, but he wasn't concerned. Golden Boy wasn't going to lose his footing because a whip knocked his blade aside. Ace trusted him far too much for that.

Every adjustment she made to keep Ace in front of her risked exposing another angle to Lysander. Every adjustment made for Lysander risked exposing one to Ace.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound​

The phrik edge whistled into empty air. Nightstar should have carved through tendon and draw the final curtain on the hunt, but reality curdled, and the strike met a sphere of amethyst filaments. The impact was no clean parry, and the resulting collision sent more bone rattling shudders screaming up his arms. The electric ache settled deep into the joints of his shoulders.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Acier's footwork scraping through the sand. Patience defined the rhythm. Calculated cruelty fueled the narrowing angle. Entrapment became the only inevitability.. to thread the needle of destiny.

Lysander felt his own pulse surge, breaking past the lethargy of what may have been considered a warm‑up. Residual lightning from the earlier storm still cracked beneath the skin. At least those agonizing tremor served as a whetstone, sharpening the senses into jagged glass.

Nightstar was still flowing from the whip's contact, the momentum of the deflection carrying the blade outward. There was no point in resisting. Momentum could be a tool, and even denied strikes could shape the next one. She was fast, undeniably gifted. Faster than most Sith he'd encountered. But, she was still mortal, bound by the laws of engagement just as anyone else. They just needed to make her choose wrong once, just one fatal mistake.

He didn't retreat from the lash; instead he leaned into the arc of the whip, daring the crackle of energy to kiss his skin. If Lysander already navigated infernos and electrical fury, then these filaments should've been nothing more than annoyance. It was then his free hand lifted, channeling a concentrated telekinetic blast. Rather than some blast meant to hurl someone through the air, it was more of a brutal exhale, a psychic punch toward her center of mass, in attempt to break her stance.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

Remowa maintained a relentless flurry of short, rapid strokes with her whip and dagger, though she understood her limitations in such a confined space. In close quarters, against two determined opponents, there was little chance of outmaneuvering them without exposing herself to crippling injuries, instead she would have to rely on her adaptability to survive for just a bit longer.

There was no trace of fear in her eyes regarding the potential for a fatal mistake that could end her life; she simply needed to hurt them in turn to feel at peace with the force, as she remained just a step ahead of Acier Moonbound 's movements in the sand. When his blue blade snapped back toward her upper body in that tight returning cut, there wasn't a need to try and block it head on.

She twisted her troso, letting the hot plasma scorch the outer layer of her obsidian shoulder plating, a surface burn she pushed past her mind as nothing more than an apprentice whose arrogance blinded him to the possibility that she was truly unbeatable. She felt the heavy, suffocating pressure of the Force gathering rapidly behind her.

Lysander von Ascania had rapidly recovered from the deflection, his free hand lifting to channel a concentrated telekinetic blast directly aimed at her center of mass. Remowa's lips curved into a knowing smile as her impressive footwork allowed her to dance backward, deliberately guiding and maneuvering Acier exactly where she wanted him, right into the path of his partner's assault.

As soon as the invisible pressure was felt, Remowa executed a blistering fluid pivot out of the way in order to allow Acier Moonbound to take the full brunt of the impact to potentially send him spiraling away into the canyon walls. With Acier momentarily disrupted and forced to contend with the momentum of his own ally's attack, an opportunity opened.

Remowa shifted her focus onto Lysander. Without a moment's hesitation, her right wrist snapped in a circle, allowing the improved lightwhip to lash out to kill him off. The three amethyst filaments surged forward with lethal velocity, weaving past his guard to wrap around the golden Knight's neck and chest, aiming to tear through fabric, armor, and flesh.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

The warning came a fraction too late, and Ace felt the gathering pressure through the Force just as Remowa moved.

The telekinetic impact slammed into him from the side with enough force to tear his footing out from beneath him, and sand exploded outward as his body was driven several meters across the canyon floor. His boots carved deep trenches through the earth before finally catching, and pain flared through muscles that still had not fully recovered from the lightning.

Meanwhile, Remowa had already moved, and the whip lashed toward Lysander. Ace's eyes narrowed as he recognized the moment she had been waiting for, the moment she had created, and the moment she was betting neither of them would exploit quickly enough.

The Force surged through his limbs, and instead of fighting the momentum of the blast, he used it. His trailing foot dug into the canyon floor as he launched forward again, converting the last of the shove into acceleration. Blue and purple light tore through the dust as he burst back into the engagement, not toward the whip but toward the dagger.

The blue blade remained threatening, occupying the space between them, while the purple shoto snapped toward her knife hand in a compact, vicious strike designed to punish the very weapon she had relied upon to survive their pressure. It was not a killing blow, not yet, but rather a disruption and a demand.

Every ounce of focus she committed toward Lysander was focus she could no longer devote to him, and Ace intended to make her pay for it.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound​

Lysander' bore witness to the masterclass of lethal grace, watching the telekinetic strike miss; fortunately, from what he gathered, the impact did little to deter his brother. Still, recognition struck faster than the movement; her motion spoke of discipline spent dancing on the edge of a blade. Tension in the Chiss' wrist revealed the immediate thread and coming lightwhip.

The filaments lashed out, three streaks of amethyst violence. Instinct cut through every thought. Nightstar rose early, the phrik edge still heavy with the inertia of the failed shove. He carved a narrow intercept through the outermost filament; 'twas not a clean parry, but enough to redirect the line angling for his throat.

His offhand dropped from the hilt, snapping outward, sending another micro pulse. The air cinched in on itself, and the whip's arc faltered; its rhythm was broken just enough to spoil the killing blow. But of course, not enough to stop everything.

A violent hiss of plasma announced the impact as one filament found him. Tremors rattled along his arms. Agony flared as a stray strand kissed one obsidian pauldron, carving a jagged trench through the plating and branding the shoulder beneath. Pain, to him, was never a deterrent, but another data point, a means of grounding one's mind to the killing floor.

To survive the embrace, pressing into the onslaught of friction, was also to bear the weight of a defensive stance. And perhaps, some paradox of mastery, to meet annihilation with precision. The sword was heavy, dragging at the wrist now, daring to pull an entire arm toward the earth. Fortunately, years of grueling dawn to dusk hours in the training yard had turned muscle into iron, an extension of the forearm. If nothing else, it bought Acier a moment. And sometimes, a moment was enough.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

The resistance she encountered from Lysander von Ascania was considerable, with him absorbing the blows on his pauldron and disrupting the movement of her whip with subtle movement. Before she could adjust the tension to adapt to his defense, the sound of plasma behind her and the misplacement of air warned her that Acier Moonbound refused to stay down, converting the energy from Lysander's telekinetic shove into a springboard aimed directly at her unprotected blind spots.

Remowa acknowledged her mistake, realizing she had to relinquish her temporary upper hand against Lysander. It was a foolish move to concentrate solely on one adversary while neglecting the other, a clear indication that she had lost her edge since Rattatak. Her stamina was not limitless, and if she squandered it, they would gradually wear her down until they ultimately defeated her.

With a smooth pivot on her heels, she shifted her weight to move out of the path of Acier's compact shoto strike. As she moved her dagger hand safely away from his reach, her right wrist performing a sweeping rotation. She brought the snapping amethyst lashes back to her lightsaber hilt, moving them just enough so that they formed a protective barrier over her back side during the pivot.

Acier's momentum carried him directly past her defensive perimeter, his blades cutting empty air where her spine had been a fraction of a second prior. The moment his flank exposed itself to her, Remowa capitalized on his overextension. Her slender fingers uncurled around the pommel of her beskar dagger, holding the hilt loosely against her palm as she extended her left arm directly toward his shoulder blades.

The Dark Side responded to her outstretched hand, as a force push was unleashed from her hand toward Acier Moonbound . The sudden, immense pressure likely caught him mid-stride, violently throwing off his balance and launching him forward through the dust, sending him hurtling directly into the path of the recovering Lysander.

Remowa reclaimed her spacing flawlessly as the two Knights were forced to account for each other's physical bulk once again. Her fingers re-tightened around her dagger, the tip of the toxin-laced blade pointing toward the sand as she watched them reset, her posture fluid, collected, and entirely unbound by the trap they were trying so desperately to build.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

The pivot came a fraction faster than Ace had anticipated. His compact shoto strike carved through empty air as Remowa abandoned the line entirely rather than contesting it.

Her telekinetic blast caught him cleanly before he could fully recover his footing, driving him sideways through the canyon with enough force to tear him from the engagement. Dust erupted beneath his boots as they lost purchase, his body hurtling directly toward Lysander's position.

Ace twisted in midair, turning what would've been a collision into controlled contact. His cybernetic forearm struck against Lysander's armored shoulder with a heavy metallic crack instead of crashing bodily into him. Using the contact to bleed off the last of his momentum, Ace immediately pushed away, creating space once more.

Ace never looked at him, his eyes never left Remowa. She wanted this. Not the push itself, but the disruption. The broken formation of two opponents forced to recover from each other instead of continuing to pressure her.

He refused. Rather than charging back into the opening she'd manufactured, Ace angled outward once more. One measured step became another as he circled across the canyon floor, patiently rebuilding the geometry they'd spent the last several exchanges creating. As he moved, the blue lightsaber rolled once around his cybernetic hand in a smooth, economical flourish before settling back into guard, the motion less showmanship than instinct. The purple shoto remained low at his side, tracking with each step like a predator's second set of teeth.

The triangle returned. Every avenue of escape narrowed again. His breathing remained steady and his expression remained calm, but something beneath that calm shifted.

Golden light slowly bled into his irises. The hatred he'd carried since Rattatak: the memory of Sibylla's scarred face, every mistake Remowa had exploited, every lesson carved into him through pain stirred beneath the surface. He didn't surrender himself to it. He harnessed it, feeding it with purpose rather than impulse. The dark side coiled tighter around his frame without sacrificing the discipline that had brought him this far.

This wasn't the reckless fury Remowa had bested months ago. It was colder and sharper. Forged, in no small part, by the lessons she'd carved into him on Rattatak.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound​

Any clarity that bled into Lysander's mind was entirely devoid of mercy; it would appear there was a sense of tactical evolution in all three of them, really. A refinement for killing. Incoming momentum arrived with an apocalyptic weight of a falling star. Both boots bit into the canyon floor, knees bowing in prayer to gravity when the forearm landed against his injured shoulder. Agony bloomed from the previous whip burn, a sickening heat, only to be cauterized by a colder mind turned to obsidian. Lysander just allowed that kinetic force from Acier to flow through him.

He watched as his brother refuse any bait. Instead of rushing into the opening, he circles, clearly the furnace of a predator knowing the virtue of wait. Direct pursuit would’ve been a fool’s concession.

Deep in the canyon, Lysander reached for the Force where draughts began to pull. It was like a parasite, pulling at the darkness until it flowed thick through his veins. He shifted his stance once more, joints clicking with a dry sound of snapping bone, as though daring to recalculate his own demise. Fingers clawed at the air, sinking into that invisible, skeletal architecture of the stone. The Sith didn't just feel the earth; he touched fractures, the entire history of collapse.

When a palm suddenly thrust downward, he tore the canyon open. There was a guttural grinding vibrating through the ravine, as though the earth were screaming in its sleep. And so the floor began to heave. Jagged teeth like shelves of rock began groaning, shedding shale like necrotic dead skin, chasms sealing, transforming every viable exit into a cage. This was no longer a battlefield; he was refashioning the landscape into a slaughterhouse far crueler than those charred pyres of the Tapani sector.

The space was tightening like a coffin of dust. But.. the Dark always demanded its tribute. Lysander’s skin turned into a mask of saline torment. Each inhale became a fight of its own. Pulverizing a mountainside was far more draining than swinging a blade or striking with a hand. The hateful manipulation of earth carved trenches across his visage from strain. One might believe the atoms of the planet were punishing him for daring to command them.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

Remowa began to question whether Lysander von Ascania or Acier Moonbound truly had the desire to defeat her, considering their actions up to this point. They had effectively kept her in close quarters, yet they failed to exploit her vulnerabilities to inflict real damage. It seemed like it should have been simple to take her down, but for some reason, they were restraining themselves.

This was a lackluster display, one that she needed to correct in order to have a worthy death. Her eyes followed Acier as they moved to entrap her once more, while behind him Lysander tore into the canyon's structure, causing the ground to have and columns of jagged rock to rise like teeth to seal off her escape.

"What's the matter, boys have you gone soft..." that one word seemed to echo across the canyon, bouncing off the impromptu barrier. A sinister smile settled across her face, the same look she had given Sibylla Abrantes before scarring that little face of hers as she moved, her whip cracking in the wind to an almost familiar sound.

Korah Matah Korah Rahtahmah, Korah Rahtamah Yoodhah Korah, Korah Syahdho Rahtahmah Daanyah.

Her boots dug into the dirt before they exploded, with a burst of force speed directly towards Acier Moonbound . Her right wrist snapped with a blinding, rapid sequence of movements, cracking the whip in one direction then immediately another. The three plasma filaments erupted into a whirlwind of attacks.

Rather than a single strike, she unleashed a continuous, overlapping storm of violence that filled the narrowing canyon corridor. The Mandalorian Iron-stuffed cords seem to come back into play, coming from one direction then another without warning, while the plasma filaments did the same. Remowa was done playing games with them, this was a fight to the death and she would fight.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

Ace felt the canyon shift beneath his boots before he saw it. Lysander tore at the mountain itself, steadily shrinking the battlefield with raw telekinetic force. Through the Force, Ace felt the strain rolling off his brother almost as clearly as the stone grinding against itself.

It was a good move, necessary, though some part of him couldn't help but wonder if the terrain was worth the price Lysander was paying to reshape it.

His attention snapped back to Remowa. A wolfish grin tugged briefly at the corner of Ace's mouth. The taunt rolled off him without finding purchase, if anything, it only sharpened something already lurking beneath the surface. Controlled hunger; the anticipation of a predator that had finally learned the habits of its prey.

The Force flared and Ace's expression hardened as the intent reached him a heartbeat before the movement itself. His pupils tightened. He barely had enough time to react as her boots detonated against the canyon floor, hurling self forward with Force speed.

The first crack of the lightwhip split the air before she'd fully crossed the distance. His primary blade intercepted the first incoming filament at an angle, redirecting it away instead of allowing it to coil around the lightsaber. Almost simultaneously, the shoto snapped across his body in the opposite direction, severing another attack lane before the second plasma strand could wrap around his flank.

The third never met either blade. Ace's shoulders turned sharply, his torso slipping just outside its path as violet plasma hissed through the space he'd occupied a fraction of a second earlier.

He wasn't trying to block the assault. He wanted to break it apart. Every interception sought to disrupt the rhythm of the incoming strikes. Every step aimed to steal another angle. Rather than yielding ground, Ace advanced into the narrowing gaps between the overlapping attacks, looking to deny the lightwhip the opportunity to overwhelm him all at once.

Lysander's collapsing canyon aided him more than either of them had likely intended. The walls tightened and the available space compressed. The broad lateral movement that made the improved lightwhip so dangerous would become increasingly difficult to sustain as the battlefield continued to shrink. Whether Remowa adapted or not, every exchange would now be fought in a little less space than the last.

Ace intended to make every centimeter matter. The moment the final filament swept harmlessly past his shoulder, he exploded forward. The blue blade carved upward toward her weapon arm, demanding that she respect the longer reach, while the purple shoto remained lower, stalking the dagger hand that had repeatedly saved her throughout the duel. His footwork never stopped, continuing to rotate as he attacked, refusing to become a stationary target even within striking distance. Relentless, disciplined pressure.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound​

A taunt bled against the jagged teeth of rock Lysander just ripped from the earth. That derision might've been bait for a lesser foe, but the blonde tucked the venom away, so that it might fester into a debt he planned on collecting in blood soon. As things progressed, he found himself welcoming this friction of true struggle, for he'd long since accepted this would not be an easy duel; in some secret code he alone honored, that meant everything. A hollow victory would yield no lessons, no growth; and he was aflame for both. To be pushed to the precipe of his own collapse was the only whetstone sharp enough to shave one's limitations..

And in the blink of an eye, she detonated toward Acier, force speed carving violently through the air. Lysander’s boots ground into the floor, grit crunching beneath the soles, before he surged forward from a tighter angle. Nightstar swept up, a weight that felt suddenly leaden in his fist; still, perfect for ensnaring overcommitment, should the opportunity arrive.

The filaments of plasma hissed out; he slashed the first aside, Nightstar’s edge screamed against the heat and directed it outward. His shoulder twisted; with the butt of his blade, he batted the second filament off course. One managed to slither past his guard, missing by inches.

In the eye of the storm, silence reigned in his mind, as Lysander saw that opportunity. From experience, being committed to the offense lay ripe for disruption. He tried to wait for the exact second of the next kinetic transition; then, with a pivot, he let the heaviness of Nightstar throw a feint at the Chiss’ upper line. One of his legs drove outward, aiming a boot for the junction where one’s thigh muscle met the hip, in an attempt to snap the rhythm of this dance. Through the movements, the sweat beading along his brow tore away like shrapnel, flung loose by raw torque.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

Remowa realized what the two were aiming for by narrowing the ravine, but maintaining this intense offensive strategy was exhausting her in multiple ways. The constant small adjustments needed to control the whip while monitoring both paths were starting to take a toll on her energy.

She maintained her speed against Acier's swift attack. As his blue blade sliced upward towards her weapon arm, she shifted her body slightly to avoid the plasma's heat from touching her skin, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a clean retreat. Rather than swinging her whole arm to intercept his secondary blade, she kept her defenses tight and near her chest.

She used just the sharp edge of her beskar dagger to block his incoming shoto strikes instead of the entire flat of the weapon, ensuring a precise and deadly economy of movement. The metal screamed against his purple light as she glided the blade along his guard, quickly transforming the parry into a fierce counter-thrust with the assistance of her enhanced speed, aiming the toxin-tipped point straight at Acier Moonbound heart.

Lysander von Ascania followed closely on her flank. She kept her footwork precise, stepping and twisting in the tightening sand to avoid his main attack range. However, with so little room, she couldn't dodge everything. Lysander's feint aimed at her upper body required a quick adjustment, and the sharp phrik edge of Nightstar lightly cut her upper arm, leaving a shallow, stinging wound through her armor and into her skin beneath.

Remowa quickly absorbed the pain, to empower the Dark Side within her. When Lysander's leg kicked out to disrupt her movement, she chose not to evade the incoming boot. Instead, she leaned into the blow, letting her left hand drop to drive the point of the dagger bite into the ankle, taking advantage of the forward motion to push it deeper.

The powerful kick struck her side just a moment later, the strong impact sending her tumbling across the canyon floor. She slid over the rough grit and sand, her armored plates scraping against the stone until she found her balance in a low, sliding crouch.

A thin stream of crimson dripped from her split lip, mixing with the blood on her cheek. Remowa lifted a gauntleted hand, slowly licking the blood from her lips as a creeping, sinister smile returned to her face, her red eyes glowing with dark, unfazed amusement as she glanced back at her executioners.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

The transition came almost seamlessly. The instant the beskar edge glided along the purple blade, Ace recognized what followed. The parry was never the end of the exchange. It was the beginning of the thrust.

His answer wasn't another clean continuation. Reading the line of the dagger, Ace abandoned the flow before it carried him onto the point.

A single step carried him off the centerline as his hips turned with it. At the same instant, the blue blade snapped inward, intercepting the dagger with a sharp burst of light and driving it away from his chest. The impact jarred through his wrist, breaking the seamless rhythm he'd been building since the exchange began.

The interruption cost him. Rather than allowing the rising cut to roll naturally into its descending counterpart, Ace had to recover the blade first. The lightsaber came back into guard in one compact motion before dropping once more toward Remowa's dagger arm. It was still efficient and disciplined, but no longer the uninterrupted chain it had been a heartbeat earlier.

Through the corner of his eye, Ace caught the continuation of Lysander's assault. Nightstar's feint drew the adjustment it sought before the Knight stepped through with the kick. Remowa accepted the exchange rather than yielding it, choosing to absorb the impact to answer with the dagger. It was a calculated trade, and one Ace silently acknowledged.

Blood ran from the corner of Remowa's mouth, and her smile returned. The shallow cut across her arm, her cheek, the countless smaller exchanges she'd been forced to accept throughout the duel... they were beginning to accumulate. Right now, he saw a fighter being steadily compressed beneath the weight of a hundred deliberate decisions and ever decreasing options.

After spending this entire fight breaking her down, now was the time to begin closing the hunt. Before the distance she'd been forced to concede could become distance reclaimed, Ace stepped back into it.

This time, the blue blade came with far greater commitment. The cut carved upward with enough weight to suggest, for the first time since Rattatak, that he'd finally abandoned patience in favor of force. It wasn't reckless, but it was convincing. That was the lie.

The purple shoto lingered just beyond the blue blade's wake, held in quiet reserve instead of immediately joining the attack. It waited for the first crack in her response, however she chose to make it.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Remowa Acier Moonbound​

A percussion echoed, a rasp that signaled fruition. The feint worked its magic, a maneuver far more elegant than any Force ability; she had bitten, and the bait was gulped whole. Impact from the kick landing came with honesty that no heavy bag in a gym could ever replicate. Kinetic energy ripped through the shin and knee, indeed a painful communion even for the aggressor.

Satisfaction was a fleeting, however, eclipsed by a searing intrusion. A wet bite surged into the ankle, sickeningly tactile in execution. Equilibrium shattered. Nerves screamed. Taking a blow to give one, something the pugilist in Lysander understood intimately well..

Suddenly, the joint spasmed. The calf muscle protested in agony as wires of pain scorched upward, terminating behind the haze of his sight. Though temporary, it was only natural that gravity claimed its hostage. A descent followed, his offhand clawing at the grit to arrest the fall. His frame was suspended for a second, then another. Heat blossomed all over, along with a wave of numbness near the wound itself.

But the hunt demanded movement. Shifting the burden onto the other leg, hips angled awkwardly to compensate. Molten orbs immediately locked onto their foe. Regardless of the torment, this remained a two man trap, a pattern that required synchronicity. Lysander wasn't about to allow Acier's momentum to suffer any sort of interference; their pressure had to remain absolute.

Driven by the wounded leg, steps came in jagged bursts along a more unorthodox, diagonal trajectory. Teeth gritted so tightly that the enamel ached. Nightstar hummed in high guard. The darkness within was a freezing tide, mingling with the taste of iron washing rapidly over his tongue.

Options were thin, at least for himself, but the fundamentals of swordsmanship would always serve well as a final sanctuary in any given scenario. Committing to the momentum, the weapon swung; it was a strike aimed with ugly intent toward the previously bruised thigh. The arc was undeniably sloppier than before, lacking the vanity of a seasoned duelist, but there was still some strange sense of savage beauty in the motion.

Even should the blade fail to cleave, the intention held.. to trap the Chiss into proximity of melee range where that whip was a liability. Constant pressure would be the only language she would understand.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

The growing pain from the small cuts, the damaged armor, and the strong hits only sharpened her concentration. As she stood up from her crouched position, the dark side overwhelmed her senses. For a brief, chilling moment, the deep red of her eyes was entirely engulfed by a dazzling, bright white, a pure expression of the power building inside her.

Remowa didn't wait for the two Knights to close the gap. She charged forward to meet them halfway as Acier made his strong upward cut and Lysander moved through his diagonal attack. The instant she positioned herself in the center of their paths, she released the brewing storm. Drawing on the devastating energy of a Force Tempest, Remowa became the outlet for such raw destructive power.

Bright, branching streams of blue Force lightning burst forth from all her limbs, creating a chaotic whirlwind. The electric storm formed a shield of energy around her, with the thousand of volts striking fiercely through the air to capture both Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania at close range.

In the midst of the roaring electrical storm, Remowa's right hand cracked the improved lightwhip, sending the three plasma strands and the Mandalorian iron-studded cords outward to ensnare her opponents from multiple directions in order to finish them off. She wanted to show them that for all their training and experience on the battlefield, she was the one in control of this confrontation from start to finish.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Kuar - Plains of Harkul

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | The Wayward

Ace caught sight of Lysander, the Knight's gait noticeably uneven after the dagger found its mark. Blood stained the canyon floor with each step, yet Nightstar never lowered. Whatever wound Remowa had dealt him, it hadn't broken the hunt.

Then she came, meeting the duo halfway. The Force detonated and lightning erupted from every limb as Remowa became the center of a raging tempest. Before the first arc had even finished branching through the canyon, the crack of her lightwhip followed behind it, plasma and weighted cords converging in the same blinding instant.

There wasn't enough time to avoid both, so Ace made a decision. The lightning struck him head on and pain exploded through every nerve in his body. His muscles seized violently as the current ripped across flesh and circuitry alike, the smell of scorched cloth and burnt skin filling the air. His cybernetic arm spasmed beneath the assault, servos screaming in protest as electrical feedback surged through the neural interface. A raw cry tore from his throat, swallowed almost immediately by the roar of the storm.

But his golden eyes narrowed. The pain remained and he refused to surrender to it. The dark Side coiled tighter around him, not numbing the agony but forcing his body to obey in spite of it.

The first plasma filament met the blue blade, deflected wide in a shower of sparks. The second screamed toward his opposite flank before the purple shoto intercepted it, redirecting the strike just enough for it to hiss harmlessly past. Ace slipped the third just enough that it only kissed his shoulder, the passing filament scorching cloth and skin alike in a shallow, burning line.

The final attack came not as plasma, but steel. The Mandalorian iron-studded cord snapped around his beskar prosthetic with a metallic crack. The weighted line bit into the artificial wrist, wrenching painfully against the servos beneath the plating, but it found metal instead of flesh.

Immediately, Ace drove his cybernetic arm back toward himself, refusing to fight the tether as dead weight. The motion carried far beyond muscle alone, the motion carried far beyond muscle alone as telekinesis reinforced the pull intended to violently contest Remowa's balance while collapsing what little distance remained between them.

In the same breath, the purple shoto drove toward the opening the combined pull sought to create. There was no probing this time, nor measured pressure. If Remowa faltered, even for an instant, Ace intended to end the hunt.

Lysander von Ascania | Remowa​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

The realization that such a lethal gambit would be granted without a toll was but a miscalculation; greed, after all, became silence before the scream. Long before the blade finished its arc toward her thigh, the atmosphere curdled.. pressure collapsing before detonating outward as the Chiss' storm burst free. Blue-white arcs released like caged spirits begging for ruin.

To plunge into its eye felt, with a perverse clarity, like the only imperative path. Proximity became the sole objective, regardless of the price upon pulverized nerves.

Amidst the vortex, the wounded ankle throbbed like a sickening thrum. Each footfall ignited a fresh lance of fire, forcing breath to be dragged through gritted teeth; meanwhile, droplets of sweat began to sting Lysander's eyes. Fixation drew a cruel gaze toward the iron-studded cord snarled around Acier’s prosthetic. He noted how the shoto hovered, poised for the kill..

Calculated interference became the only remaining option; their proximity demanded nothing less. Moving deeper into the blast radius, the Sith tried to position his own body as a conductive target. A lightning rod for the Chiss’ malice; it hammered his frame, blistering any mantle of skin, locking muscle fibers in a violent seizure. His jawbones clamped; his vision began to fray at the periphery.

Intent manifested, and a shaking palm began its ascent, pushing far beyond the usual gears. Eruption followed as it fed directly into the heart of the chaos. Those blue and white threads collided, braiding into a knot.

Exhaustion clawed at the core; blood began to run cold; the ankle throbbed with ruin. To suffer this storm was to turn his own body into a bridge. Through the pain and electric roar, he stepped deeper in an attempt to destabilize it, so that it might just grant Acier the sliver of space required for the final blow.

 

[Remowa]

The Ancient Chains - Kuar, Plains of Harkul
The Chiss Woman vol. 1 |:| Issue #4: The Last Remnant w/ Acier Moonbound and Lysander von Ascania

Remowa felt the strain of the massive electrical output, but she pushed through the exhaustion, surging more raw power into the Force Tempest to deliberately overwhelm the two Knights with the sheer scale of the energy at her command. The blue lightning arcs widened and multiplied, turning the immediate space into a blinding cage of static and heat.

Amidst the brightness of the storm, her white-glowing eyes followed the exact shape of Acier's blade and the quick movement of his cybernetic arm as he attempted to pull the slack of the whip's cord to unbalance her. She did not resist his pull. Instead, Remowa simply brought the hilt of the improved lightwhip directly into the tempest itself, as the highly conductive Mandalorian iron and plasma acted as a perfect corridor to carry the immense lightning charge directly down the length of the whip.

Hopefully into Acier Moonbound prosthetic, to overload his remaining systems from the inside out and basically fry him alive. Her hand moved just a moment as lightning bounced against the shoto to keep it at bay as at the same time Lysander von Ascania attempted to move deeper into the blast radius to ground her lightning and redirect it, but her hand moved quicker as the toxin-laced dagger was thrown directly at his chest to halt his advance.

Before the blade could even cover the distance, she followed behind it with a considerable Force push from her open palm. The sudden wall of telekinetic pressure detonated against the wounded Knight, aiming to blow him entirely away from her perimeter and scatter him into the debris. Even if the effort failed, that was acceptable since she was really buying time to complete her liquification of her hated opponent.