Legacy of Tython: Battle in the Ruins of Kaleth

[TweedPawn]

She was unarmored now. This was good. Della wasn't ready to let up her tactics, though. Her words had little effectiveness. Oh well, it was a long shot anyway. Still, the sith was armed with lightsabers. Lightsabers were very dangerous things. Della knew that her speed was her advantage. She was unpredictable. Yet, the Sith still engaged her like she was a typical combatant. It would be the torgruta's undoing.

Because Della would always be the less honorable fighter amongst the Jedi. She had accepted this. She had no shame and when others would bring it up with her, she would dismiss them in a huff. She never understood Galactic's strange things they chose to worry over. Still, Della was focused, she always found her mind the most at ease when she was in movement.

She continued her dodges and light footed dances. She recognized Juyo. Her husband was a master with it. Force once, Della was grateful for her husband's tendency to dabble in such things. Della felt the anger and wrath surging through the sith. Della was not afraid, but cautious. Della had once lived in fear, her abilities manifesting in electricity. But her joy and love also powered her connection to the Force. She knew what emotions could do, she embraced the good and used Order to control chaotic feelings.

Della knew what she had to do. Juyo was a powerful, emotional fighting skill. But it left one vulnerable to the force and thinking ahead. The Snamreg jumped well out of reach of the blades and reached into her pocket subtly to grab a large sachet of spicy powder. She charged at the sith, but the charge was a ruse. At the very last moment before her blade would strike the Sith's blade, the packet expelled into a cloud of intense powder that was force pushed right to the face of the torgruta. The powder was a special mix designed to be easily inhaled and burn the lungs, sinuses, and eyes of one unlucky enough to be in the cloud.

Della was already darting backwards to avoid the next attack. She was grateful for her people's history. They had raised Della on the spiciest root in the entire Galaxy. It was a part of daily life to consume it and accidentally inhale it. All of the spices in the Galaxy paled in comparison, in Della's point of view. Everyone else thought the girl simply was immune to the sensation of edible magma.

 

[Apollyon]

Audroti smiled as crackle of blue lightning brought forth the pungent odor of burnt hair and charred flesh. However the Jedi showed his hand in an instant, he relied on Tutaminus, he relied on it heavily, and the Jedi had utilized it to counter almost everything that had been thrown against him, a foolish choice. Audroti sensed victory was beginning to come forth, he felt adrenaline course through his veins in response to its intoxicating call. The Jedi activated his icy blue lightsabers to make his advance, adopting a stance that Audroti was all too familiar with, the typical Juyo stance, a variety inside of the close minded Jedi Order and an opening for corruption.

The Jedi would find his strikes met by the indomitable force of Audroti’s own understandings of Juyo. However, unlike the Jedi, Audroti didn’t release his entirety in combat, his parries and strikes were refined, controlled, and showed the extent of his emotional control even in the thickest of battles. A cruel smile appeared over Audroti’s face as crimson blades collided with blue in a dazzling display of elegance and destruction.

“You are not as foolish as I thought Jedi, embracing death, destruction, and chaos…you are more of a Sith then you might know.” Audroti taunted.

Audroti kept his eyes locked on the Cathar’s own, watching shoulder movements through his peripheral vision to anticipate attacks and react accordingly; striking at open points and weak spots in the Jedi’s defenses with enhanced speeds and strength which had been channeled through the chaos, death, and suffering that surrounded the pair. Audroti stood as the living symbol of the Sith’s indomitable strength, the avatar of destruction.

“You could have made an excellent Sith…” Audroti mocked “…but now, nothing will save you.”

Emotions broke forth from Audroti’s stores in a single concussive burst of raw dark side power. The bellow of doom split from Audroti’s lips, death echoed throughout the forces, a Scream twisted by the hate and lust for vengeance of a thousand generations burst forth like a well. At the close proximity the Jedi stood he would bear the brunt of its terrible power and without proper defenses he would perish beneath its unstoppable wake.

 

[StormWolf]

The clashing of red and blue blades flowed like an ocean in a storm, showering dazzling vibrant colors across the canvas of death like master painters in the throes of a creative frenzy. Their dance was hypnotic and savage, the two fighters moving as if they were part of the same creature, trying to tear itself apart in its dual nature. In a sense, they were both parts of the same whole. Polar opposites of the Force, destined to be locked in the eternal storm of light and darkness for as long as their lives carry on.

As Rhonun fought, his muscles burned with the strain, singing and reveling in the glory of war. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution lead to his body reacting the way it does to conflict, and no matter how hard he and the Jedi may try to stifle those sensations - those urges - he could not deny them completely. It was a degree of pride in who he was, who he is, and who he will be. Not the pride that breeds arrogance and foolishness, but pride in his roots as well as his teachings. The Sith spoke, but his words glanced off of the Jedi Knight, hardly making scratches in his composure. For the strength of the Sith's convictions, Rhonun matched them and bolstered them with a terrible stubbornness.

"Do not overcredit your kind by saying I am like you. I am nothing like you. I am better than you or your chaff could ever dream!" Rhonun shouted over the clamor of battle and through the whirling storm of blades between himself and the Sith leader. Never ceasing the momentum behind his attacks and defenses and flourishes, Rhonun kept his footwork solid and maintained a neigh impenetrable wall of defense maneuvers, falling back on his Shien and Soresu teachings whenever the prueblood pressed the offensive. Scorch marks from the red lightsabers were made, but they failed to make any purchase on flesh.

"I am not the one that needs saving, Sith. You are, as you always have been." As soon as the Jedi said those words, he could feel the churning of dark power within his enemy and prepared himself for what was to come. It was a maneuver Rhonun was familiar with, one that he had used in a panic when he was younger. The sonic waves of the Sith's Scream tore through the air, hitting Rhonun's mind like a storm of broken glass. The ground around him fissured and his armor dented, his cloak snapping in the force of the attack. Rhonun's keen hearing was assaulted relentlessly until all he could hear was a high pitched ringing and the warm sensation of blood filled his ears and dripped down the sides of his head. The pain was excruciating, but Rhonun was never one to submit to pain. Roaring back in defiance, Rhonun pushed on, mustering all his being against the Sith. Lashing out with his right hand, the Jedi extended the durasteel claws and connected the metal hand to the Sith's head. Digging his claws in, Rhonun pulled at the pureblood's flesh, digging out five deep gashes that reached the bone.

With the Scream interrupted, Rhonun stumbled back, his equilibrium sundered. Looking about, he saw that the Jedi were dwindling. The battle began with them being sorely outnumbered, and no matter how hard they fought, they would not stop the locust swarm that was the Sith, not here.

"Withdraw, Jedi! Fall back!" Assuming a defensive posture, Rhonun began to fall back through the ruins, his ears still deaf to all but the high pitched ring in them. "Della! Fall back. Now!" The Jedi cried. If Della were to turn and see her husband, she would be met by his charred armor and bleeding ears. Not a pretty sight, but in his eyes she would see something dangerous. Something she had not seen since their time on Cularin. The light of Rhonun's Force aura began to shift from the immaculate white to a blazing inferno, threatening to consume all it touched.

 

[TweedPawn]

The powder hit its mark. Its cloud easily breathed in by the Torgruta, who quickly started coughing and crying. Della knew very well that powder was painful, but she also knew not to waste time. She needed to be quick for her onslaught.

The Snamreg vanish in the blink of an eye from her rapid speed. She shoved one of Grimla's lightsaber's aside with Della's own blade. It was just enough of an opening to deliver a bone shattering kick. Della reappeared just as the kick hit its mark. Grimla lower leg was crushed like an egg. After the devastating strike, Della effortlessly was able to knock the Torgruta unconscious with a swift strike to the head with her fist.

But then she heard the call to retreat. It came from her husband, Rhonun. He looked terrible, a warrior covered in ash and blood with and aura that flared like hellfire. She knew what she had to do. To retreat blindly would be suicide. She had to give others the chance to break from their pursuers.

A diversion was often used to deflect pursuit. She was light footed and swift as she lept through the trenches like a doe. Her light flashed like a firefly to blind those who wielded darkness and provide a path for the jedi to follow. She pushed herself, pushed her abilities harder than she ever had to before. She was a Snamreg. She repeated the mantra of her people. Their stories giving her strength to mentally carry on, even though her body screamed for rest.

She wouldn't be able to save all of the Jedi on the battle field, but she was able to give enough so that many would have the necessary split second to pull away from their fights and run. Her lungs burned, craving more oxygen. She remembered when she last ran like this. It was in the forests of Tython when her Master first trained her. She blessed his name, praising him for teaching her to press her limits.

She knew she needed her own escape route now. She pursued her plan for survival. It was time to leave Tython. To leave her first home of the Galaxy. She gave a mental call to Rhonun.

"<I am ready! Hurry!>"

 

[Apollyon]

Agony in the purest form rushed through the Crusader as the metallic claws of his opponent ripped through his flesh, eternally disfiguring his face. This was a brand, a bittersweet mark to remember the pairing of his greatest accomplishment to date, mixed with Jedi who almost ripped it from him. But Audroti wouldn’t be the only one scathed in this brief exchange, as the Cathar’s claw scratched the bones on Audroti’s face, the crimson blade in Audroti’s left hand lurched forward and buried itself in the Cathar’s now unguarded right flank. The burning blade would carve through the armor as if it were nothing but air, slice through the fat and tissue of his opponent, and barely miss the Cathar’s vital organs. Audroti then jerked his blade to the left, ripping the crimson blade free from the Cathar’s torso, while the wound was not mortal it would be enough to remove the beast from the battle, and ensure that he had an ache to remember the Sith who blessed him with the wound.

Audroti’s right hand immediately grasped his face as he stumbled backwards after this action was completed; the intense pain gripped his very soul. Audroti attempted to use the burning sensation to empower himself, but it was to no avail, the agony overrode every ounce of his own willpower. Audroti’s red eyes glared upwards at his opponent, one through the fingers of a clenched hand, the other with no obstructions, a clear message was sent through this stare, their confrontation was by no means completed. Audroti let would a single enraged howl as he watched his opponents fall backwards towards the safety of the Tythonian woodline, while the bulk of his vengeance had been denied him, his wrath would find other vessels, the Jedi captured and wounded.

The Garden Ruins of Kaleth stood stained by the blood of both Sith and Jedi alike, but it’s agony hadn’t been completed yet. Audroti would ensure that the Garden of Kaleth would stand as both a mockery to the misguided and foolish fallacies of the Jedi and a testimony to the indomitable might of the Sith, Kaleth would be defiled in the cruelest manners imaginable. Darkness took yet another foothold on the planet of Light, Bogan slowly overwhelmed the weakened forces of Ashla, and soon nothing would remain untouched.

 

[StormWolf]

The searing pain of a lightsaber wound in his side set his nerve endings on fire, making the Cathar wince and roar out in a raw, raspy roar of agony. Staggering back at the same time as his nemesis, Rhonun fell to a knee, gripping his right side to keep the wound as closed as he could. The blood seeped through the burned edges of the gash, dripping through his fingers. The amber stare of Rhonun clashed with the red glare of the Sith, the two of them having a wordless exchange of malice towards one another. Rhonun knew they would meet again, and he knew that just like today, many would die when they would next clash. Forcing himself to his feet, doing his best to block out the pain in his side, Rhonun made his withdrawal from the farce of a battlefield.

Leaping and vaulting to the best of his ability over the ruins and overgrowth, Rhonun began to feel the weight of fatigue on his limbs, dragging him closer and closer to the earth with every step. Della's Light served as a beacon in his clouded mind, giving him something to move towards when all his body wanted to do was lie down and go numb. Breaking through a thicket of briar and bramble, Rhonun's legs failed him, bringing the Jedi to his knees. Head still throbbing from the Sith's scream, every fiber screaming in protest with the slightest movement. Mustering all he could, Rhonun picked himself up from the mud and pushed towards Della's location, her telepathic message echoing in his mind.

<Get to the ship, Della! I will meet you there. If I am not there in five minutes... go.>

Even in his pain-addled mind, Rhonun knew the forests of Tython like they were the closest of friends and family. Having spent so much time in the forests as a Padawan and even as a Knight, he knew the shortest and least-traveled routs to the Jedi Temple. He could only hope that the surviving Jedi from the battle were ahead of him, taking the stealth-plated emergency shuttles. The battle was over and there was no point on dwelling on what could have been done better at this point. Right now, all Rhonun could concern himself with was limiting the loss of life. Getting to the Temple grounds, Rhonun slumped against the outer wall of the Jedi Temple and sat to catch his breath, which was raspy and hoarse.