Requiem: A Reprise [Open Challenge]

[Jeseth Cloak]

<font size=1>[OOC: This is set after <a href=http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10898>Requiem: Blood Bond</a>. You don't need to read the thread, I'm only posting this notice for those who were involved in it with me.]</font>


Jeseth looked up into the sky, watching the rain pour down as overcast settled in above him. It was quiet again. This planet was somewhat of a refuge now... Along the horizon, smoked still towered into the sky. He had wiped out all the nearby settlements, making sure that he would be the only one within several kilometers. The rains would last a few hours. They always did... he had been here for several cycles now, and without fail a storm would brew every night. In fact, there was really only one or two hours of clear skie every day.

Other than that, this whole planet was marshy... That wasn't too disturbing though. In fact, it comforted him - but it was odd that for a planet with such heavy rains, it had no oceans or lakes... Somewhere in the distance, he could see the streak of a ships engines.

A visitor..?

[BrantCairn]

The ship was old, slow, and peacemeal. There was hardly room enough for Brant Cairn, the brute, in the shaky cockpit. To either side of him was a bit of writing on the hull. It translated from Brant's native grunting language into 'Bully'. But this ship wouldn't be pushing anybody around.

Brant let the ship slow to a linger before he jumped out, enthusiastic. He stood roughly six and a half feet with flat feet. He was rather broad, and muscular too. He would definately not be relying on speed to overcome this humanoid.

He came moderately well equipped. Heavy red armor, alchemically treated, was all about. The only visable skin was that of his face, with his not-so-special brown eyes and short cropped black hair. Slung over his back was a heavy alchemical Sith sword, with a blade four feet long and five inches wide. He pulled it free of it's black sheath and set the tip in the grounds. He was presenting his arms, the one of many shamanistic proceedures he partook of.

OOC: If you've ever seen WOtC's Dark Side Guide, I'm thinking of the armor you see with the Sith Knight's profile. Also, Brant is not a Sith, but he is something of a Devotee/Marauder.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth gazed at the mass of armor. The man stood a few inches taller than him and seemed to be well armed. Jeseth's hair blew back and away from his eyes and forehead as Cairn's ship hovered to the ground. Dark black eyes speckled with green spots watched the new opponent... They were a predator's eyes, devoid of visible pupil's.

"Who are you?" Jeseth drew a saber forth, holding on to it readily. He wasn't sure what to expect from this man. There was a moment of tension, and then Jeseth waved his free hand. "Nevermind. That's not important... Only your intentions are."

<font color=orange size=5>Snap-hisss.....</font>

"Come, and meet your destiny..."

[BrantCairn]

"No fancy word. Brant will fight now."

The assailant raised his sword over his head and rushed the winged man. The gap between the two closed quickly, Brant's size considered. He swung his heavy sword down at Jeseth, who easily stepped to the side. The sword's inertia bent Brant forward.

Jeseth sliced down, trying to catch Brant's back with his lightsaber. Rather than try to move aside or block it, he bludgeoned Jeseth's waist with the broadside of his sword.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth rolled back several feet from the sudden force he was struck with. Dust, pieces of rock, and grass all went flinging up around him. He stopped himself as quickly as he could, looking at the trail of slices and burn marks that his saber had left along the path her had traveled. Blood was dripping down the corner of his mouth, and his side was sore. It was a miracle he hadn't accidentally landed on his own saber...

He watched the man gather up speed again, ready to make another charge. His sword was angled slightly differently this time... he had obviously figured out that a direct downward slice wasn't going to do the trick. Jeseth boomeranged his saber at the warrior's legs, backing up just in case the strike failed. I wonder if someone sent him...

[BrantCairn]

Brant's first impulse was to yell angrily at the incoming saber. He did. He was a man of instinct. Next, he thought to move to the side. It was a second late and an inch short- the saber grazed him, leaving a shallow, searing path in it's wake. Jeseth didn't try for another swipe and called it back. He simply stood there.

Brant made not a sound, and did not grimace. Ideed, his leg hurt. Very badly. All that he showed was a twitching lip. With an angry grunt, he began making passes over his leg with his free hand. He mumbled odd, strangely intracate words as he did so. He applied some sort of salve to the wounds, glancing sidelong at Jeseth here and there.

The result was a putty-like filler in his leg. The pain still lived, but at least he could walk.

At least he could dash in a rage at Jeseth. Which, by the way, he did.

He slashed once and hit air- slashed again and hit Jeseth's saber. He grinded down on the saber, trying to push it away.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Cairn was many times stronger than Jeseth could hope to be... and so every time the bulky attacker made his strikes, Jeseth found himself pushed aside. He called upon the Force, his muscles rippling as he pushed at Cairn's sword, launching it away, but not managing to knock it out of his grasp. A sudden tremor in the Force blasted Cairn to ground, sending him tumbling back. Jeseth caught his breath and stood still, sweat dripping from his brow. This was exactly the kind of opponent he never wanted to encounter... a strong one, with a mind much too simple properly control.

Anger still bubbled inside of him, waiting to be released... but his body was still weak. He had come here to lay in wait, until the time had come for the bonding to commence. He had hoped to be well rested for it. It wouldn't be turning out that way anymore.

[BrantCairn]

Anger. Brant knew anger when he felt it. He felt it. This winged, somewhat skinny man had sent Brant sliding onto the ground like a mongrel. The brute wouldn't have that. He leapt up to his feet.

His leg hurt much worse, now. He'd hit the same spot on a rock mid-slide. There'd be time to rest later. He dashed at Jeseth yet another time, dragging his left leg slightly. He swung down at Jeseth, but as he opened up his chest to parry the sword, Brant kicked at his chest. It was well delivered, but Brant's leg hurt all the worse.

[Jeseth Cloak]

<font size=4>SNAP!</font>

Jeseth yelled out angrily, feeling one of his ribs snap as he was again tossed, his wings becoming ruffled as he again rolled to a stop. He wasn't sure if it had broken... but his chest was pulsating with pain... pain that fed his anger. It made breathing more difficult, but didn't really prove to be too distracting mentally. He had felt worse at the hands of his master, Gav Mortis.

Jeseth balled his fist, closing it tightly. Blood dripped down his right arm as his nails dug into his flesh. Cairn felt the Force begin to constrict around him, pressure mounting against him as if he was being forced deeper and deeper beneath some vast ocean. His armor cracked and moaned, bending and contorting inwards... Jeseth was crushing him like a tin can.

[BrantCairn]

Cairn groaned as the pressure mounted. He was dying. The force pushed shards of shattered armor into his skin, and when peices of the armor fell off his body, they simply revealed another field of red.

Brant was a hunter and a Dark Sider. The anger mounting and the smell of fresh blood pushed away the wicked pain- for the most part. Still, the average human off the street would be dead under this weight of pain. He took the trouble to pick his sword up from the ground. Bent over with the weapon in his hands, he shifted his back to give Jeseth the impression that he was snapping up to full stature to strike. Instead, he carefully, albeit weakly, swung it at Jeseth's legs, hoping a distraction would be enough...

[Jeseth Cloak]

He backed away from the sword, but it still slashed through a layer of flesh on his knees. He gritted his teeth and a spark of blue shimmering hatred could be seen coming alive in his eyes and finger tips - but Jeseth held back, not wanting to dissipate his energy so quickly. If it wasn't enough, than Cairn would be able to finish him off easily. Calling upon Force Lightening was devastating to Jeseth's health... the last time he had used it to it's fullest capacity, it had left him in a coma.

The crushing grip he had around Cairn died away, leaving the man to regain his senses. Jeseth growled below his breath as he swung his saber for Cairn's head, hoping to remove it from his body in one quick strike. He placed his foot against the side of the broad sword that was against the ground, using the Force to keep it tightly locked in place.

[BrantCairn]

Brant struggled in vain to pry the sword off the ground, but the saber was incoming and there was no more time. He fell down onto his back, reared his legs, and donkey-kicked Jeseth in the chest with both legs. Still, the kick hardly connected, and Jeseth needed no time to recuperate.

Brant was tired, hurt, and bloody. Still, he picked himself up off the ground, minus the sword. No dashing at Jeseth this time- not without a sword to parry with. He stood there, metaphorical fingers crossed, hoping he could survive another short clash.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth felt his breath leave him. The kick hadn't been very hard, but with a rib already cracked, it was much more painful than it should have been. He stepped away from Brant for a second, preparing to take another swing at him with his saber. He took his foot off the sword and then used the Force to launch it a few feet away from them. The saber came up, then hummed through the air for Brant.

"Sleep easy..."

[BrantCairn]

His sword was yards away, and a lightsaber a foot away and coming up fast. Brant had no time. 'Sleep easy' was a chilling whisper, subliminal like a soft wind. He slid his hands in front of his face, an instinct. Anger, energy, was flowing from his core to his hands. The lightsaber rattled, then stopped. The dancing blade was a short two or three inches away.

He was surprised the force had come to him so easily, for a change. Usually, it took many hours of intense meditation. But the force... The force needed him as a vessel, as it needed all living things. For the force to stay concentrated within him, he needed to live. It was simple enough to him, at least.

Understanding having dawned, he hurled his fist forward. It hit Jeseth hard in the face- hard enough to knock him off his feet. With speed Brant had never known, he reached forward and grabbed on of Jeseth's airborne feet with both hands, greatly bolstering the fall as he slammed the avian being into the ground. With a steady hand, he faced a flat palm towards his sword, pulling it towards him. He caught it, and brought back the blade.

Never brought it forward.

He stuck it into a leather sheath on his back. He looked odd standing there, red all over with sweat beading on his face. The man opened his mouth and spoke. "M..." He stopped, and laid a hand flat across his own chest, a gesture at himself. "Brant."

He left, and the 'Bully' flying off was no special sight for whatever Dark Jedi happened to be watching.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth rose to his feet as quickly as he could, groaning as his muscles and spine ached horribly. His cheek was swollen from the impact of Brant's fist. He looked up, watching the ship take off, and growled. The man had managed to make a hasty retreat... but who would have won had he lingered behind to finish the fight? Now it would remain a mystery.