Duel You know Nothing

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik's boots pressed lightly into the sea of blossoms, each step sending a ripple through the meadow. The air was thick with fragrance, sweet, sharp, sometimes bitter, a mingling of wild flora that reminded him why this place was worth the journey. He moved unhurried, cloak trailing over stems and petals, golden eyes searching with practiced care.

He crouched low, fingers brushing aside lilac-colored blooms until he found what he sought: a pale-green stalk tipped with serrated leaves, the healing herb he'd been told thrived only here. With deliberate precision, he plucked it at the stem, tucking it into a small satchel at his belt already filling with carefully chosen cuts. Each one had purpose, for poultices, for teas, for balms that might mend wounds.

A breeze moved across the field, stirring the flowers into a wave of color that reached to the horizon. Rellik let it wash over him, breathing deep, allowing himself the rare quiet that he could never really get within Diarchy space. His mind flickered to those waiting beyond this errand - apprentices, soldiers, brothers and sisters of the Diarchy. Even here, among the silence of the plains, he carried them with him.

For now, though, there was only the sound of petals brushing against his cloak and the weight of the satchel slowly growing at his side.

Braze
INVENTORY:

• Single bladed Lightsaber - Conviction
• The Blooded Seer Cloak
• Spear of the Star-Fallen King
• Wears a Beige Tunic, Leather gloves/boots.
• Has a utility belt with some basic medical items where he sheaths his saber.

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Diarch Rellik

​

Braze had been sent to identify and gather various herbs for medicinal purposes. He moved slowly through the tall grasses of the flowering field, placing herbs and fungi into a basket as he went. The wind brushed through the foliage, creating subtle waves beneath the afternoon's amber light.

He paused, eyes narrowing as he spotted a dark silhouette of a man in the distance. At first glance, the figure didn't seem to be a local. Braze closed his somber jade-green eyes and expanded his sphere of Force-sight, letting his sharp perception reach outward to glean more about the stranger. A subtle thread of Force-wind mingled with the natural breeze, brushing across the man and carrying back precious impressions, the shape of his form, the density of his frame, and the details of what he carried. From the whispers of the wind, Braze drew hidden fragments of wisdom.

Setting his basket aside, he stepped beneath the shade of a large oak tree. His jade-green eyes opened once more, washing over the man as he studied the stranger's build, his size, and the way he carried himself.

"Good afternoon... " He called out in the native dialect offering a bow of his head.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik straightened from where he knelt among the blossoms, the pale-green stalk still turning gently between his fingers. The voice carried easily across the meadow, warm enough on the surface. He slipped the herb into his satchel and rose to his full height, cloak falling back into place. Golden eyes regarded the man beneath the oak, their weight steady, curious.

"Good afternoon," Rellik returned, his voice calm, measured. The native dialect rolled from his tongue with ease, though his tone made plain he was no local. "It seems the fields are generous today."

The breeze passed between them, tugging at flowers and fabric alike. Rellik let it go on a moment longer, simply watching, as if measuring the stranger

Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Diarch Rellik

​

Braze narrowed his pale jade-green eyes at the stranger, his posture shifting just enough to suggest tension without declaring it. He didn't like the feeling curling in his gut. Something about the manseemed off, like a blade half-hidden beneath folds of cloth.

"The season of harvest is upon us… it is going to be a good harvest," Braze offered simply, words delivered as much for cover as for conversation. His gaze lingered, weighing the subtle shifts in the man's form, and the cadence of his breathing, even the measured way his hands rested, or the faintest twitch of muscle at the jaw.

Tangential thoughts spilled through the young Echani's mind as he studied him. He looked familiar, uncannily so. Not someone Braze had seen in the flesh, but a face he had glimpsed elsewhere. A flicker of memory tugged at him in a half-remembered holo, a face caught in the periphery of Temple archives, or perhaps one of the dreams that left him restless and awake before dawn.

He drew a slow breath, schooling his tone into something casual though the wariness never left his eyes. "Travelers don't often pass through here without a reason," he said at last, voice edged with quiet suspicion. "What brings you to these parts?"

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik reached down without hurry, gloved fingers brushing the petals of a crimson bloom before plucking it free. He rolled the stem between his fingertips as he answered, golden eyes fixed unblinking on the Echani.

"I came to pick flowers."

The words were plain, but the weight behind them carried an edge as sharp as the glint of his steelsong hilt, revealed in the purposeful shift of his cloak, just enough for the stranger to see. A silent message: I am somewhere I do not belong and for a reason. Here, is your warning.

His gaze deepened, the gold within it bleeding into something darker, more sinister a red flicker threading through like fire.

The next flower he plucked was not taken with the same careful grace. He wrenched it from the earth, roots tearing free in a harsh motion, the stem snapping as he tucked it into his satchel.

"Flowers of all kinds. Even beautiful pale ones with green eyes."

Braze