Faction Those Who Fight (DH/DIA)

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Crucible | Arena
Tags: Ra'a'mah Diarch Rellik Vulpesen
Gear: Amulet of the Warden's Eye, Bladefather

---

Reign knew, almost immediately, that this was no common duelist. How he handled the Diarch's attack was more than proof of it as well.
As the second blade ignited, Reign felt the thrill of battle coming over him. How amazing to be able to test one's self without the threat of death.

His smile grew, as his opponent swept Reign's blade away, followed closely by an attack towards his shoulder, Reign spun. Flourishing his blade as he did to catch the golden-black rod behind his back and carry it into a saber lock.

"I did.. This is the most excited I've been for a fight in ages.. thank you!"

The Zorren's strength however, was greater than his own, causing Reign to break the lock so as not to exhaust himself early in the duel. He stepped back quickly to create some space, holding his blade at an angle over his head, he paced in a circle briefly before launching himself at his potential new friend.

He came in with a quick flurry of slashes, designed to probe his opponents defenses.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik's eyes narrowed in intrigue. Trying to gauge just every dirty trick he might be able to pull. His Soresu was typically a way for him to create interesting ways to defeat his opponents. "Ah, Vandelhelm. My mistake," he said with faint amusement. "And here I thought we had a shared graveyard beneath our boots." It was not the direct lever he wanted to pull but he could try to change Ra's focus as much as possible.

Ra's blade came down with intent, shifting the balance of their spacing as she stepped in, trying to push Conviction lower. A bold choice. It seemed reckless, yet Ra always seemed so smart.

As her saber drove downward, Rellik allowed the angle, his knees lowering to easily dodge the attack. His seasoned fighter senses watch the tiny motion of her shoulder and followed it to her wrist. A hum cracked beside his head, bright and sudden. The second blade. Only dodged slightly by the reflex's of a person molded into this life.

A warm cauterized small cut was now across his face near his ear.

Before Ra could fully reset her stance, his left hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm but controlled grip. Enough pressure to keep the shoto from just being able to be rolled by Ra's wrist and chop his arm off. His right hand deactivated Conviction mid‑motion, the golden light collapsing into the hilt with a sharp hiss. With a flick of his wrist and a subtle push of the Force, the weapon handle whipped upward in a tight arc, the curved pommel snapping toward the underside of Ra's jaw.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

"A shared graveyard beneath our boots, you say? Perhaps—but I've always preferred to stand above it."

The curved pommel of Conviction whipped upward, snapping toward her jaw. Ra twisted sharply, letting it glance across her cheek. A sting of pain flared, but she didn't falter. Reflex took over.

She slid her wrist free, yellow saber already humming in a defensive arc. Instantly, she lunged low, driving a sweeping kick at his knee—testing balance, forcing a reaction, keeping him guessing.

Her yellow blade traced arcs through the air, a flash of light and motion, intercepting any strike that came too close. Every shift of Conviction, every subtle pivot of Rellik's stance, she read and adapted.

The pommel graze had sharpened her senses. Breathing steady, movements fluid, she flowed with the rhythm of the encounter. And just as the kick landed—or missed—she feinted another low strike, baiting him to commit, her motion a whisper of intent.

Then, with a pivot and a twist of her torso, she spun upward, yellow blade arcing high in a sweeping strike aimed at his side. The motion was relentless, flowing, a single continuous dance of attack and defense, each movement a lesson in timing, precision, and control.

"Careful… I don't mind returning the favor," she said, letting the words ride on her motion—a subtle warning and a promise.

Words were finished. Motion was everything. Ra pressed her advantage, every strike, kick, and spin speaking louder than any conversation, determined to stand above the graveyard beneath their boots.

Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Golden light illuminated a fanged smirk as the leaders' weapons clashed. Ra'a'mah and Rellik's fight was lost to the Valde, background noise when he focused on his own part in the quartet of violence. Reign was a leader, a man accustom to control and it showed in his bladework. Strike after strike was levied against the Zorren in aggressive attempt to take the initiative. Vulpesen met each one with a flowing cadence that deflected the blows, letting them glance or skid harmlessly to an unoccupied space. "My pleasure."

Vulpesen swirled off to the side as Reign advanced again, voiding the strike and letting it pass unopposed through empty air. With a side step, he brought his weapon around to strike at the Diarch's back. For him, it was like a dance, a beat he had felt and moved to a thousand times. He knew the rhythm, and better yet, he knew how to disrupt it. Break the opponent's cadence, disrupt their comfort, then capitalize on it. "You've certainly put in the work."'

Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Ra'a'mah

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Her wrist twisted free. Rellik felt it the moment the tension shifted in his grip, the subtle flex of muscle and motion that broke the hold without violence, just precision. She didn't hesitate. With a flick of his fingers, Conviction returned to his palm, drawn cleanly by the Force. He tried to attack but Ra was putting in good technique with a defensive arc, golden light circling between them like a warning halo.

Disrupting the pace she kicked low. Putting herself back in the attackers role and Rellik back into the Soresu mentality. With a slick motion his feet shuffled sharply. His body now off balance as he leaned forward and his legs were sprawled behind him. She saw his weakness. Off balance she began a low attack again.

It would graze him at his current spot but not down him completely. He had back stepped so far. But this was not the real attack. The Diarch began twisting his body when he saw the move was a feint. Ra had leapt quickly upward and rotated her attack to come for his midsection. It would cleave him in two.

From the tips of his feet he leapt ever so slightly. His body twisted horizontally in midair, spinning like a diving spear. Arms tight. Core solid. Cloakless silhouette barely gliding over the saber of Ra.

And at the height of the motion, when the Diarch's face fully rolled over the blade and was looking at his opponent. He let out a resounding scream.

A thunderous, Force-charged bellow erupted from his throat, amplifying outward into a kinetic shockwave that cracked across the ground. It rattled the banners above.

The man landed like an animal on all fours. Ready to push himself up with his hands and get back into the duel on equal footing.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra's stance remained fluid, golden light circling her like a living shield. The thunderous bellow from Rellik slammed into her, and the shockwave rattled the room, hammering against her chest and ears. A high-pitched ringing filled her head, forcing her to blink sharply. Her jaw clenched, teeth gritting against the disorienting pressure, but she didn't falter. She adjusted her footing instantly, letting the Force steady her balance as the residual vibrations coursed through her body.

Her eyes locked on Rellik as he rose from his landing on all fours, Conviction clutched firmly in his palm, every muscle taut and ready. The raw power in his scream had tested her defenses. Still, the momentary discomfort had also sharpened her awareness; each tiny movement of the air, each micro-shift in his stance, was magnified in her perception.

Ra twisted her wrist smoothly, bringing her own saber up in a defensive arc, golden light flaring to meet him. Every motion was deliberate, every step calculated. The feint she had executed earlier had revealed his instinctual adjustments, and now she could see the subtle weight shift in his legs—the way his center of gravity leaned forward, slightly overextended.

Rather than striking immediately, she allowed a heartbeat of pause, using the Force to listen to the rhythm of his next movement, letting him commit to his own momentum. Then, with a controlled step forward, she pivoted, her blade sweeping in a precise arc toward his right side. It wasn't meant to harm, but to force him to respond, to regain balance under pressure.

The scream's echo still buzzed faintly in her ears, a reminder of the raw power he wielded, but Ra's focus remained unbroken. Each motion, each defensive shift, was measured—proof that even when shaken, precision and awareness could turn a disruptive force into an advantage.

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Crucible Arena
Tags: Vulpesen
Gear: Amulet of the Warden's Eye, Bladefather
Color Code: #B35432

---

Where his opponent had been just a moment before was now empty space.. Reign had felt the error a split second before, yet had already committed to the strike. As he slipped into the now unoccupied space, he had a split second to bring his blade over his head to block the incoming strike.

Knowing that he couldn't hold the block for long, he swept low with his leg, looking to sweep the feet of his opponent out from under him.. Aware that this probably wouldn't work, he would utilize the space this created to regain his position.

"Saber combat has been drilled into me since the time I could walk, although, I can tell. You're holding back on me"

He said with a smile

 

[Vulpesen]

Loadout: Battlefield (Grenades not included)

The man was quick. His skill was obvious and Vulpesen couldn't help but smirk at the apparent proficiency as golden blades collided yet again. However, his joy was short lived as a raucous din caused his ears to pin back in pain. Rellik's uproar had been unexpected and it distracted the Valde enough that he found himself hitting the ground as his feet were swept out from under him. Still, the battle continued and he knew better than to stay still. As Rellik stepped away to gain some breathing room, Vulpesen rolled back to his feet and shook off the dust on his cloak.

The accusation was met with a chesire grin as Vulpesen paced slightly, savoring the momentary break in a storm of blades. "I do have a few tricks up my sleeve that I usually reserve for the battlefield." His words were punctuated by a pair of raven black wings rising behind him, each one covered in midnight durasteel feathers. "Some tricks I've held on to since my jedi days."

He'd been honing his skills as a duelist and a wilder, letting the elements imbue his body as he struck. But the truth was, Vulpesen had made his name in combat long before he could conjure much more than a spark. It was why he had left the order. They had refused to teach him the more esoteric forms of force control... so he had become creative with the basics.

A series of cracks sounded like an squad trudging over brush. Each crack was followed by a whisper of air. Reign had fared well against two blades. But what could he do against a dozen? They may not have had the terrifying burn of a lightsaber's edge, or its impervious durability, but each steel feather was lethal in its own right, honed to a razor's edge as they darted over like a supersonic swam to slash at his limbs.

Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Ra'a'mah