Ask Obsidian Ascension

[Darth Tempest]

The moment the King rose from his seat, Vahliri’s lips curled into a ferocious snarl - teeth bared and hints of animalistic yellow beginning to glint behind her natural ambers. From the frigidness of her presence to the very way she stood, the half-Annfyn was a different person entirely in that moment - focused entirely upon the fight before her. It didn’t matter the risks or the challenge of her opponent. He stood between her and the Throne of Thule - and it meant that Vahliri wouldn’t tolerate him for much longer.

“Your dynasty lost the right to rule the moment you refused obeisance to the Empire.” Her words her hissed with no lack of venom. Her lightsaber flicked up to assume a forty-five-degree angled guard, left foot shifting ever-so-slightly bdehind her. “I will correct that error.” She said flatly.

Without any additional warning, Vahliri allowed the Force to flow through her left arm - billowing forth as invisible tendrils of energy. She coiled her grasp around the lower legs of the King as he strode forward - sinking deep before abruptly pulling towards the half-Annfyn. She aimed to pull the brute right off his feet and bodily him towards her - prepared to angle her saber downward if the maneuver was successful.

All the while, she kept her eyes expertly trained on the King - yellow-tinted eyes flicking between his sword and shield. Despite her confidence, Vahliri knew the man hadn’t been able to hold the throne for nothing - and was prepared for any surprise attack he might employ.

 

[The Storyteller]

The King wasn't going to be caught off-guard by a leg pull. He shifted his weight forward, using that alteration to spring at Vahliri with shocking speed. He hurtled toward her, and the shield would slam into her bodily with enough force to knock her backwards if she wasn't careful.

All the while, the King was nimble on his feet - more so than one would expect of someone of his size - and he was ready to move at a moment's notice.

 

[Darth Tempest]

Even Vahliri didn’t expect the King to move as quickly as he did. Despite being built like a freighter, the man was agile on his feet - and it forced the half-Annfyn to adjust accordingly. Her weight leaned forward, pressing onto her forward foot while her saber tipped up defensively.

Just as the King closed into melee range, Vahliri darted abruptly to the right - attempting to avoid the shield-slam from the Thuleian Monarch. Her feet moved swiftly to shift onto his right flank - stepping and turning once more to face him from the side. The crimson blade of her saber lingered to block any attempt to catch her with the sword in the King’s right hand. Though he didn’t carry a lightsaber, the half-Annfyn anticipated that his weapon was alchemically-altered and bore similar properties.

Only then did Vahliri swing her saber from right to left - attempting to carve a molten channel through the King’s ribcage from back to front. Her left hand lingered close to her hip, fingers flexing in anticipation.

 

[The Storyteller]

The King's sword whipped out to the side, swinging hard and fast at her in both block and strike, meeting her slash at his side before it could reach him. Their blades bound for a moment and then the King shoved downward, the crossguard catching on her blade and shoving it down and out of the way as he pivoted, his shield in his left hand swinging hard to try to bash her with the lower part and leave an awful gash along her face or potentially even lay her out flat.

 

[Darth Tempest]

While she stepped to the right, Vahliri never took her eyes off the King’s primary weapon. The Sith Blade was a remarkable work of both forgework and alchemy - likely handed from generation to generation. More importantly, the half-Annfyn anticipated that the King would lift the blade to defend against her incoming swing at his side.

Just as her lightsaber bound against the edge of the sword, Vahliri’s left hand flicked with the Force - summoning the second saberhilt into her left hand. Having entered the fight with only one of her weapons in hand, she could only guess that the second saber would come as a shock to the Thuleian monarch.

With a flash of crimson plasma, Vahliri ignited the second lightsaber. Just as the King shoved their weapons downward, the half-Annfyn swung her left arm from right to left - over the top of the bladelock and into the Monarch’s open guard. She attempted to cleave right through his upper bicep and continue through his chest - timed just as he began to move towards a pivot. The half-Annfyn aimed to interrupt the shield bash entirely, or cost the King his own arm in exchange for an ugly gash across her face.

 

[The Storyteller]

The tricky part about bashing with a shield was that all he had to do to defend his right side was continue the swing. It wasn't like he left a long pause for her to summon a blade and swing it around.

His shield slammed into her face, and to defend himself, all he had to do was keep moving his arm, which caught the saber slashing at his arm. It slammed against his shield but he stepped back to free his shield and sword arm again.

Weakling, he said, spitting on the ground at her.

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri’s eyes only momentarily went wide as the shield slammed against the side of her face. The impact sent the half-Annfyn bodily skidding backwards, pain coursing from an open gash that was opened into her bronze skin. Blood poured from the injury, accompanied by a cut on the inside of her lip.

It only took the half-Annfyn a moment to find her balance once more, twin sabers moving back into defensive guard. Her amber eyes narrowed - briefly flicking over to harshly stare down Varyn, if at any point the Champion looked like he might attempt to intervene. She was far from out of the fight yet.

“Come on then,” Vahliri spat back at the King, a globule of blood spat down onto the floor between them, the challenge lacing into her words. She grit her teeth through the pain in her face, her left eye squinting a bit as blood trickled down her brow.

She held the first saber out in front of her body, while the other hilt pointed towards the ground on her left side - blade hissing out of life for the moment.

 

[Varyn Atrix]

Varyn didn't exactly feel relaxed, but he forced his body language to appear... at least not quite ready to pounce. Both his grips on his lightsabers were tight, fingers gently caressing the ignition trigger of his right saber, but he didn't move. Despite the force of the blow that had been landed on her, he still had faith in his fellow Champion.

He watched the King make his next move.

The man darted forward, sword rising in a diagonal strike that rained from Vahliri's left shoulder to her right hip, looking to cleave her cleanly in two while his shield remained at the ready to defend his own body.

 

[Darth Tempest]

Despite the pain in the side of her face, Vahliri kept her eyes fixed onto the King - jaw set into a firm line. He was stronger than she would’ve liked, and the shield that he carried - unconventional and alchemically forged - complicated their duel. It forced her to fight far less aggressively than normal.

The half-Annfyn kept her lightsaber pointed in front of her body, watching as the King darted towards her. Just as his swing came in, Vahliri lifted her blade vertically - intercepting the swing and proceeding to parry his blade to her own left. Just as the blade crossed his body, Vahliri abruptly tipped her weapon at a forty-five degree angle and jabbed forward - attempting to pierce into the King’s collar bone.

At the same time, the half-Annfyn gathered the Force within her left hand - sending a concussive blast directly into the Thuleian Monarch’s shield. She aimed to knock the barrier and his arm inward, in hopes of preventing another shield bash or defensive maneuver.

 

[Varyn Atrix]

Varyn watched as they moved to strike one another again, and though he couldn't see precisely what happened, he smelled that distinctive scent of burned flesh and then a head rolled on the floor. It seemed the blow to the collarbone had been quite effective, and the blow with the Force had knocked the body back.

Varyn watched the people in the throne room. He watched every movement and opened himself up to their shock and even indignation. He wanted to know if they would strike before they did.

He kept his saber ready, but no one moved. For the moment... it was silent. It was stiff, and everyone stood ready, waiting to see what the victorious Sith would do.

 

[Darth Tempest]

In one clean motion, Vahliri felt her saber cleave through the King’s neck - traveling from one side of his collarbone to the other. With no protective armor or defense mounted in time, there was nothing to save the Thuleian Monarch from his fate - and the half-Annfyn only watched as the two, separate pieces of his body were sent across the room.

Silence fell across the Throne Room. Not a word was spoken by the spectators, and not a single person moved a muscle. All of them had been witness to the challenge, and eyed the victorious Sith with anticipation - awaiting her next actions. Whether they did so with newfound loyalty, or in hopes of catching the half-Annfyn with her guard down, was unclear.

For a moment or two, Vahliri stood like a statue - amber eyes fixed upon the corpse of the King. It was only then - in that precise moment - that the gravity of her actions had started to set in. The weight of the crown she had earned, exhilarating and utterly terrifying at once. The prestige and authority, alongside the target she had placed upon her own back. There would always be a challenger - always someone waiting for her to show a hint of weakness. Just as she had done to the previous King.

Whatever went on within Vahliri’s head, it didn’t manifest on the surface. Instead, she finally stepped forward - clipping both sabers back to her belt. Her free left hand extended outward, drawing upon the Force to yank the King’s own Sith blade into her hand. Victoriously, she brandished the weapon above her.

“By the ancient rite of Ascension, I claim the mantle of Suzerain of Thule!” Her voice echoed across the chamber, gold-tinted eyes flicking between Royal Guard and Viziers alike. “Any who would dare to question my rule, step forward now and make your challenge known.” A single moment ticked by, and not a word was spoken - tension thick in the air.

Until finally a hint of movement. One figure from amongst a row of Royal Guards. The man wordlessly lowered down to a knee, his pike still held vertically in front of his knelt body. He was followed by the man beside him. And then the next. Until every guard had dropped to one knee, followed by the viziers, and finally left Varyn as the sole figure standing aside from Vahliri.

Her gaze lingered upon Varyn for a split moment before glancing up towards the Throne. Her throne. Vahliri took in a breath - beginning to step towards the dais and seat herself upon the seat of steel and iron. News of her rise would be broadcast and new orders would be issued to forces across the planet - directives to submit to Imperial takeover. Revolt was almost a guarantee amongst many, but Vahliri was confident that her foothold in the capital would provide the means to quash any dissent.

As she finally eased into the Throne - Sith blade resting against the base, both arms sprawled across the armrests - those knelt finally rose to their feet. A single vizier approached on Vahliri’s flank, his gaze cast across the throne room. “Hail, the Suzerain! Hail Vahliri!”

“Hail Vahliri!”

“Hail!”

“HAIL!”

And so the call continued - above the chaos and bloodshed that occurred beyond the Palace walls.