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

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Diarch Rellik

​

"Better be careful then." Braze's tone carried a playful, almost chiding note, as though he were correcting a youngling caught doing something foolish. His pale jade eyes gleamed with faint amusement as he tilted his head.

"Even the fairest blossoms hide thorns… pluck too carelessly, and sooner or later you'll find a flower sharp enough to draw blood."

He practically purred as he cocked his hip out, settling one hand against his belt, adopting a casual stance that seemed more suited for banter in the training halls than a tense meadow standoff, allowing a faint smirk to grace his visage. It would seem this particularly pale creature was not intimidated by the man before him but rather excited by the plausible prospect of violence, so much so as to play along and counter that threat with the cheeky warning.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik plucked two more flowers, both a deep crimson bloom. He held one between his fingers for a moment before releasing it, letting the Force carry it across the space toward the Echani. His hand never lifted, yet the blossom drifted as if on a breeze meant only for the man across from him. The other... this one he crushed, petals spilling from his palm and scattering around him in the low wind, crimson flecks mingling with the meadow's softer hues.

"Well, tell me,"

From his hip, the steelsong hilt slid into his hand with a motion as small as it was final. He shifted into an elegant Makashi pose. Back straight and arm titled downward slightly, a gesture slight, but heavy with intent.

"Which flower are you?" His gaze sharpened, the red within his eyes burning brighter. "The one that floats away… or the one whose petals scatter in the wind?"

This was his last warning to the stranger to leave him alone or choose to accept his challenge.

Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Diarch Rellik

​

"I'm no flower," he said softly, almost kindly. "I'm a gardener of people… which means I rid the world of weeds. And you shall be no exception."

He didn't move to draw a weapon. Not even a hand lifted in defense. He simply stood there, perfectly still, daring the man to act on his threat.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik stood unmoving for a heartbeat longer, turning halfway as if going to leave the field in defeat - when his shoulder faced the new opponent his spear whipped to his hand. In on quick motion the weapon was flying through the air, cutting a clean wide arc over Braze's head. It struck the ground several meters behind him with a deep, resonant thrum.

His saber was next. The steelsong hilt slipped into his palm, A golden blade sprang forth with a low, vibrant gurgle. In a flash he moved forward with a single, precise advance. Rellik lunged. Not a killing blow, not yet, just a testing thrust, the tip of his saber stopping at the edge of its reach giving him a lot of space between his opponent and testing his reflex's.

The duel had begun.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Diarch Rellik ​

Braze stepped forward and slightly off-center, sliding his front foot toward the man's inside as a hand came up, open-palmed and empty, while he advanced on the attacker. His saber-breaker fins caught the blade, guiding its momentum off-center with a simple redirecting block. There was just enough torque in the maneuver to lock the blade between his fins as he pressed forward, sliding along the weapon and aiming an open-palmed strike to the inner forearm muscle just a few inches down from the elbow.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik felt the moment the blades caught, their hum turning taut between the fins. Oh, this is what I have been looking for. He didn't resist. A sharp flick of his thumb silenced the weapon golden light collapsing back into the hilt. He let go without resistance. The sudden slack let his arm drop, aiming his elbow directly to catch the open palm before it could connect hopefully.

The impact cracked through the air. The echani had hit their target but the Diarch used Bakuuni hand to apply the force to his forearm. It was a move aimed to debilitate his muscles and cut off his strength. He would need to be wary moving forward.

He stepped in close, front foot sliding between Braze's legs to steal the centerline, shifting his hips and stance quickly. His left arm came tight across his ribs in a tight coiled V shape. Ready to release a built up straight cross. Every muscle from the palm of his foot, his hips, and the twist of his arm as his attack unfolded into a quick punch was all seamless. A nice touch of Nar Kanji dirty boxing that has been molded over time.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Diarch Rellik ​

The lightsaber's blade hissed out under the torque Braze applied with his gauntlet fins, collapsing into its hilt before the man released it, letting the weapon fall freely.

Braze's left hand shot out, snapping around the arm that had held the saber, seeking to lock the elbow straight before it could recoil.

At the same moment, his right arm swept inward in a sharp hooking block, redirecting the man's punch aside. Braze stepped in closer, body twisting along the inside line as his small fingers dug into the fabric of the man's tunic for purchase. In the same motion, he raised one foot and planted it squarely against the man's solar plexus, throwing his weight backward and using his leg as a fulcrum to roll into a controlled fall, aiming to send the man hurtling over him, in attempts to take this battle to the ground.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Quickly and with precision the hand found his arm and locked. Rellik didn't panic; he let the hold be, felt the angle, and reached for the purchase he needed, the man's shoulder, guiding the trapped limb where he wanted it with a practiced, patient pressure.

As they rolled to bring Rellik over the Diarch moved with the momentum instead of fighting it. Watching, waiting. He rolled through the motion, using the moment to slide around the body rather than over it. With his free hand he shoved at the Echani's leg a short, precise push that opened the line and bought the space he needed to spin toward side control rather than being taken over by the throw.

Rellik's body came tight along the side. The arm that had tried to trap him now threaded under Rellik's armpit; the man took his hand off the shoulder and wrapped it under his arm pit and slammed it across her face as he moved to slide it behind her ear closest to the ground. His free hand dropped hard with an edge of an elbow into the back of his opponents neck, fingers finding the inner curve of the previously trapped arm and anchoring it into the elbow crease as the other arm threaded home.

He didn't rush. Rellik sprawled his legs back and planted, letting his hips sink and his shoulder press heavy against the head. Petals drifted across the two of them, and the field smelled of crushed flowers and iron sweat. The pressure through his shoulder and the binding of the arm made the line of escape narrow but possible.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Diarch Rellik
​

Braze's foot was shoved aside, unfortunately, his heel blade was angled toward what would've been the soft supple flesh of the thigh or calf, potentially shearing through cloth and flesh alike. He twisted as he took the brunt of the harsh counter. His gauntlets shifted and turned slightly as he angled his saber-breaker spikes toward the softer underside of the man, pressing out in a desperate attempt to drive him away.

He wrenched his elbows down and back, hoping to let the saber-breaker 'fangs' hook into flesh and cut. His head turned under the suffocating pressure, pearly teeth bared as those strawberry-pink lips parted, aiming to bite at the peak of the pectoral muscle, to catch a tender bit of flesh between them and dig in.

Sharpened black-clawed fingertips tore at anything they could reach. He was as hard to wrangle as a feral cat. Braze twisted, shifting a boot to leverage his heel, pressing the blade's sharpened edge toward the man's hip or thigh as he scraped, kicked, clawed, and even bit in his struggle to break free.

He was small by nature, and Diarch Rellik would soon find that he was unnaturally flexible. Where opponents overpowered Braze out-flexed them, able to contort his frame in ways most athletes could not dream of.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik felt the bite first, screaming sharp pain at the edge of his pectoral, hot and sudden as the Echani's teeth sank in. The beginning of the tension building to his outcry. Then came the rake of claws across his arms, tearing through the fabric and leaving trails of heat and blood. His arms instantly becoming a canvas of cuts. One of the gauntlet fins grazed his side, slicing a line through his tunic and ripping into the hip handle.

The cloak reacted before he could, its woven folds rippling as if stirred by thought. A portion of it snapped around Braze's arms, binding tight over the gauntlets and holding fast. Rellik used the moment. A twist of his torso and a hard shove with his knee broke the tangle between them. Leaving his cloak behind. A second later it released and began to simply fly upwards for a moment.

Breath heavy, blood slick across his forearms. One hand brushed at the bite on his chest; the other flexed against the sting of fresh cuts. "Holy hell," he muttered, voice dry. "You bite now, do you?" He grunted in pain for a quick moment. "Have a little class, this isn't a bar fight."

Rellik rolled his shoulders, exhaled, and let composure bleed back into his stance.

"Alright then," he said quietly. "This time its your turn to attack. Come on. Let's see what else you've got."

He was hurting but had an out if he needed one. A plan ready to make his escape.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Diarch Rellik ​

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Braze slid back through the meadow, bits of plants and flower petals kicking up from the force of the sliding halt. A devious glint appeared within those jade-green eyes accompanied by a vicious little smirk.

"Pretty words and postures die quick on the field of battle, don't they?" He wiped at his face with the back of his hand. He stood up, ears perking at what followed.

He did warn the man he'd get pricked if he tried to 'pick this pretty flower'.

"Oh...? Is that what this is about? You wish to be entertained?" he asked, shifting and glancing up at the odd imbued cloak as it flitted high overhead.

"As for 'class'... don't forget; you threw the first 'punch', sweetheart." Braze commented softly with a sneer. "Well excuse me... If you wanted elegance, you should've stayed in the ballroom, princess."

Braze scolded in mock courtliness even going so far as to offer Diarch Rellik a cordial bow. "If you wanted an exhibition, you should have just asked."

That voice turned smooth and more tauntingly playful. "Really now... all that bravado, and not a single strike was worth the poetry. Next time, use your manners and just ask. Words will bruise your pride far less."

In truth, if one insists on making death threats, one shouldn't be startled when the curtain rises on something bloodier than theater.

Braze rolled the fallen saber hilt onto the instep of his foot and, in one swift yet fluid motion, sent the hilt flying back to its owner, returning to Diarch Rellik his own saber. At the same time, he drew and flourished the ventrally mounted blade from the front of his belt and the smaller off-hander from the back, igniting them both in colorful blurs of chalcedony teal and azure blue.

It was Jar'Kai in the style of Makashi, although his opponent would notice that Braze held his main hand in his left, and his off-hand in his right.