Duel The test of blades

[The Battalion]

Wearing: Warrior's Skin

Armed With: Elaine Tear's Lightsaber (Corrupted)

Mission: Duel Astrus

She awaited him in the deserts of Dathomir, the brutal, vicious warrior having heard tales of his exploits.

She meditated inside a burning pentagram, channeling the Darkness of this world into herself in preparation.

House Io, beginning to genuinely feel the thirst for power, had begun to seek out outside talents as their particular wars and hatreds began to pick up steam again. She waited in a part of the desert patrolled and protected by particularly insidious threats, and if the warrior she awaited was even a quarter what she suspected he was, he should arrive here good and eager for more conflict.

She had sent him the invitation. Along with a large, fat gemstone to tempt him to put himself through this test, to fight House Io's Religious Leader, and to fight with all his might, for battle pleased both of them.

The Battalion waited patiently, eyes closed on a face of pale, carved beauty, and curly dark hair, clad in a skintight white catsuit. Her only weapon, her long ago corrupted lightsaber sang of dark wonder inaudibly, as she waited for the warrior she had invited...

 

[Astrus]

The sand crunched under the feet of the Gen’Dai as he made his approach. He was intrigued by the invitation. He had heard of House Io before, but never really looked too much into them. Until now.

He drew a large beskar knife from his belt and tossed it into the air. Catching it in a reverse grip. It had been a long time since he had a decent fight. His muscles flexed beneath his armour, warning himself up for the fight to come.

He strode up to the edge of the burning pentagram. Astrus tossed the gemstone gently so it would land in front of The Battalion . “I believe this belongs to you.” In Astrus’s eyes, he hadn’t earned the gemstone, so it wasn’t his. Not yet.

 

[The Battalion]

The Battalion opened rotting yellow eyes, gazing at the Gen-Dai as he tossed the gemstone to her.

"Ah...you wish to earn it. Refreshing..." she spoke, going to her feet.

The Red Lightsaber snapped to life, humming with an evil power to it.

"I will not waste your time with the grandiose. You are a warrior. A killer. Let us interact on that level. It will prove better than genuine conversation. More revealing certainly."

With a practiced, crisp grace, she lunged, blade cast in a precise arcing swing for his throat. She was trying to kill him.

He would either prove himself worthy of life, and partnership with the House, or he would fall, here.

Astrus

 

[Astrus]

The Battalion
Refreshing. Astrus was tired of people claiming to be great warriors, only to spend way too long talking like some sort of weak politician. If Astrus wanted to get into politics, he would have. Instead he was warrior, and he appreciated that this individual was the same.

As the crimson blade snapped to life Astrus smirked under his helmet. A Sith. It had been far too long since he crossed blades with one.

As they slashed at his throat, Astrus ducked under the blow, and fired up his jet pack. Launching himself forward. In an attempt to crash tackle the Battalion. With his knife in the reverse grip, he would also attempt to slam hard into her side with butt of the knife. Using his immense strength to try and crack a rib or two.

 

[The Battalion]

The throat slash missed, and Astrus countered with a jetpack tackle and a knife butt to the side of her head, which snapped it back a moment, but she was a Sith Blademaster, and was made of stronger stuff.

Using her skill in Force Flight, she accelerated the speed at which they both flew unexpectedly, turning their position in mid air so she was above him as she flew downward in an attempt to grind him across the desert floor, and hopefully damage his jetpack in the process.

 

[Astrus]

The Battalion
Astrus continued to pound into The Battalion’s side as they tumbled mid air. Slamming the butt of his knife, like a hammer into her rib cage.

As he felt his jet pack hit the ground, he shifted his body weight, and used the momentum of them both moving forward to suplex The Battalion.

 

[The Battalion]

Deadly rage flooded the Battalion's body as she felt the butt of his knife against her ribs, threatening to break them with every blow. Her hate numbed the pain. Only armoring her body with the Force allowed her to survive the massive impact on her spine, though she was still in a massive amount of pain, which she drew in to fuel her rage and she used Force Flight to tear away from him at first, only to immediately pounce back on him, lightsaber strike aimed in a diagonal cut at the chest of Astrus

 

[Astrus]

The Battalion

Astrus rolled out of the tackle, and raised his left arm up, aiming his flame projector at the flying warrior. Either too impassioned or ignorant to release they were fortified by the force, so the jet of flame would be largely ineffective. When he sensed the slash coming at him, he reflexively used his left arm to block. Not realising the lightsaber would breach the small fuel tank of the flame projector.
The result was the stream of fire becoming a blazing fireball with Astrus at the centre. While caught of guard, Astrus did have enough training to use the ball of flame to through a wild punch, using the fire to obscure the blow, to catch The Battalion off guard.

 

[The Battalion]

The flames were ineffective for two reasons. One was for the barrier she was surrounded by. The other was because since becoming the third Darth Phyre, she had gained a mastery of Pyrokinesis. His fist cratered into her face with an impact that would have made Rocky jealous, deforming it grotesquely like it was clay, white blood spilling out from impact gouges, her flesh bubbled and wriggled disgustingly everywhere as she staggered back, Astrus still ablaze.

A bubbling hand shot out, trying to increase the heat of the flames that burned on him even now. If that didn't work, than the blood from her that he had drawn had a nasty surprise of its own. It had magical, acidic qualities, capable of potentially burning through even beskar with enough time, though that blood wasn't able to harm organic tissue as a draw back. But the sheer impact of that Balboa-Class punch had stunned her. It was taking twice as much concentration to try and burn him and her face was repairing slowly, leaving it a weak point.

 

[Astrus]

Interesting. As the heat increased, Astrus new he had to do something about it. As his gauntlet started to dissolve, he made a mental note to replace it. For now he had more pressing things to do.

The tendrils of his hand shot forth, in an attempt to grab the outstretched hand. He would use the grapple attempt to distract from his other hand coming around for another heavy strike to the head. Should the grapple succeed, he attempt to whip the smaller fighter around like a makeshift flail.

 

[The Battalion]

In her wooziness she wasn't fast enough to react to the grapple move Astrus pulled and he gripped her wrist pretty good, though she managed to block the blow to her head and further increased the heat on the burning warrior. She let him flip her over him like a flail, using her own dark side enhanced muscle to sustain the damage from the crushing landing, and in retaliation, she clamped into his arm and flipped back up,in even more pain than before but using it to fuel herself and attempted a vicious, rage aided brute force punch to his helmet, not caring that the coming blow was so hard it could break the bones in her hand, so long as the punch, it it connected, would hopefully be enough to send him flying...