A Place Like No Other. (open challenge)

[Nemesis]

Methodically, the coarse whetstone slid along each razor edge of the stationary blade. Sparks licked at the ground with each pass the sharpening tool made. Once or twice this process was ceased, allowing the wielder to lift his weapon vertical, carefully inspecting his own craftsmanship. With this done, the sword was lowered again and the habitual ceremony continued.

Nemesis donned his typical black attire, complete with the metallic utility belt, dual metal blades; which he painstakingly labored to improve; and a custom cloth helm which revealed only the shade of his gleaming ivory eyes. The assassin occupied a small wooden chair on the street coner of another nameless village on an obscure little world.

The scene was picturesque. Simple people leading simple lives amongst friends and family, naive of any outworld struggle. Air was clean and fresh, while the aroma of neighboring plantlife scented every sidewalk. This quaint town was nestled within the only clearing for miles, surrounded by dense woods.

Children crowded the storefront where a tall cloaked outsider sat, preparing his foreign weapons. Their curious gaze locked intently upon every move the Ranger made. Soon, mothers hurried the young spectators along with words of, "Leave that man alone." or "Never speak to strangers."

Strange, indeed, was he. So perculiar in fact, the warrior had caught someone else's attention as well. He did not know the name nor intentions of his audience for they had not yet chosen to bring such matters to light. Never the less, he was being watched. Nemesis could feel their presence, but chose to continue his work; waiting for the other to make themselves known.

[imported_Akrabbim]

The man sits across the square from Akrabbim. To this point, he had been cloaked in illusion, taking on the image of a nondescript townsperson. He examines the man's movements. He is obviously a professional, trained in his arts. And his arts do not seem to be peaceful, to say the least. He drops the illusion, resuming his normal form. His eyes glow blue, and he focuses his stare on the man. He seems to notice the attention, but does not look up from his work. Akrabbim slips across the square and comes within a few feet of the man. He leans against a nearby wall and peers into the distance, not looking at the man.

You know, I'd hate to think you were planning on using those on anyone. That would be... unwise.

[Nemesis]

Nemesis broke from the rhythm of his stone. His shrouded visage rose as he began to view the children, some of whom had recently been anxiously watching the Ranger's activities. A few ran to their mother's care, others romped about with their playmates, still others sat telling stories and humorious tales. He never looked to the man that had issued a threat masked in the garmets of complacency.

"If I had any design on their lives...they would already be dead." His militaristic discpline was marked by signs of blatant annoyance for the other's remark.

No thoughts of malice occupied the warrior's mind. Quite the contrary. He had journeyed to this world to relax and attempt an escape from his typical life of death and violence.

Sharpening his blades kept the hunter in practice. For he did not hold with the ideal practice of machine sustained weaponry. A soilder's arms were special to him, taking great pride in their upkeep. It was for this reason Nemesis chose to hand sharpen his personal blades.

"I'm an assassin...not a murderer." With this said he defered from his watch over the children, returning to the task before him.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim turns toward the man.

And who, pray tell, do you plan to assassinate?

[Nemesis]

"No one for the time being."

He idly continued working.

"Even the most cold hearted of men need rest."

[imported_Akrabbim]

I would certainly hope not. I'm afraid I would not look too kindly on any... unpleasant business in this area. I do hope you understand.

[Nemesis]

The metallic grinding ceased. Nemesis lowered his blade, gently placing it within the confines of a leather sheath to the right.

"Strange, I was under the impression that Jedi do not prevent crime..."

His words trailed off as the hunter lifted a second sword from an identical leather sheath. The weapon balanced on his left thigh.

"...but try to bring an end to injustice already in progress." The reply was poised both as a heartfelt inquiry and bold statement.

Again sparks flew, from the rubbing of stone on metal, with the assassin's return to labor.

[imported_Akrabbim]

We protect life. If that means stopping you now, so be it.

[Diego Van Derveld]

Glinting eyes watched the pair from a distance...

[Nemesis]

"Aye, there's the rub."

The ebony warrior withdrew from work. His faceless visage turned to meet the Jedi's glare.

"Do you really believe you could stop me?" Nemesis' voice was solid. Each word, spoken cleanly, never wavering to suggest he lacked resolve in his own convictions.

As before, the Ranger reserved no plans of extinguishing life, anyone's life, amid these humble surroundings. However, if this Light Sider intended to test the warrior's metal, he would graciously welcome any contest.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim's eyes glow brighter with the man's words. He steps away from the wall slightly, adjusting his stance.

What I believe is irrelevant. I will do everything in my power to stop you. The question now falls to you. What do you intend to do?

[Nemesis]

The soft pine chair groaned, as the assassin's weight lifted from its frame. Nemesis stretched both arms wide while sustaining his meticulous ascent to a standing position. During their lagging return, each hand glided across a seperate hilt. His left fell to the sword most recently sharpened and his right extended to the previously sheathed blade.

With one fluid motion the Ranger dropped low, eyed the Jedi's midsection, then slashed his left sword inward at the Light Sider's abdomen. His augmented right arm ripped the second weapon from its scabbord, there it waited in the wing to atone for any miscalculations.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim hops back quickly, thankful that he had already been standing in a ready position. The man was faster than a normal human. The blade slices cleanly through the front of his gi, missing his skin by a hair's breadth. He draws his katana quickly.

Impressive indeed. But tell me, can you fight blind?

Akrabbim flicks his right hand up, sending a wave of Force Blindness into the man, causing sun-like brightness to momentarialy fill the man's mind.

[Nemesis]

The entire world was rapidly plunged into a brilliant etiolate light. Peoples, objects, even buildings converted to blurred shadows; then faded from sight altogether.

"Fascinating trick." Nemesis spoke in the direction he last remembered the Jedi to be standing. "However, unless you can cause me to be deaf as well, I suggest you move."

His second blade whistled, forging a crescent path from behind the assassin, above his head, and finally sloped down toward the Light Sider's right shoulder.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Raising his katana, Akrabbim blocks the overhead strike. The sound from the blades striking is resounding. Akrabbim sidesteps just after the sound, moving as quietly as possible. He then reaches out with the Force, showing the man another illusion. He makes it appear that the Force Blindness has worn off. He shows the man the world as it is, but shows himself to still be standing where he was. The illusion of himself is slightly off balance, as if recovering from the shock of the strike.

[Nemesis]

Seemingly, as rapid as it was lowered, the veil of white lifted from the Ranger's eyes. A quaint village reemerged in all its color and form.

Familiar children ran about the byways and dirt paths, their frolicsome giggles wofting in the midday breeze. Curious men and women molded a watchful assemblage, full of audible rumors and outspoken proclivities, as the pair of warriors dueled. Birds chirped their merry songs of summer, perched in nests high above. The only entity lacking characteristic sounds was the staggering Jedi before him. There was no grind of boot atop dirt as he endeavored for composure, nor did his garmets rustle with the gentle wind.

An off-centered breath, right of the Light Sider, touched Nemesis' sensitive ears. Locking the left wrist, he thrust an impaling stab forward into the Knights chest; whilst the right blade elevated till the point was perpendicularly allign with his adversay's body, yet remained to the side.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim attacks the man's extended hand, attempting to cause him to lose his blade. His blade slices downward in a very tight arc, slicing at his wrist. He drops the illusion as he slices, returning the man temporarily to blindness. It won't last but a few moments more, but it should still be affecting him currently.

[Nemesis]

A shrill whine to the left, and a falling blade. Deftly Nemesis ceased the foward thrust, dropping his sword to a reverse grip and maneuvering out from under the Knight's weapon.

Backspinning clockwise, the assassin sent his right fist and hilt crashing into the rear of the Jedi's skull. Akrabbim, knocked off balance by his own attack's drive and a fierce head blow, dropped face-first to the street. The Ranger halted his rotation at the Light Sider's feet, and stood approximately one yard out.

"Your talents are admirable Jedi, but I am not some common scoundrel nor am I a padawan that seeks your guidance. I, sir, am a warrior who has only one goal for this contest, and that is victory."

The curtain of white had yet to lift from his eyes, prohibting any veiw of his challenger. Therefore, his ears sharpened to identify any unseen movement.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim rolls backward to his feet slowly, shaking his head gently to clear his head of the blow's effects. The man somehow knew where he was, even with the illusion. Ruling out any exotic forms of detection, that left his sense of hearing. To hear where he was that accurately must mean he had some form of augmented hearing. That too could be countered.

He quickly draws two shuriken and flings them to the ground at the man's right, then leaps forward right after them. He parrys the nearest sword downward and reaches out with his hand, catches the man's face. He feeds the man's mind a large blast of Force Confusion, filling him with images, light, color, and any other random illusion he can muster.

[Nemesis]

A wealth of colors, apparitions, and all manner of spectacles entered his mind. The abrupt exhibition was a tremendous contrast from the blinding pale he had dealt with earlier. Nemesis, taken aback initially, fought the illustions effects. He arduously forced his thoughts beyond the mirage, sensing the Jedi's touch against his shrouded countenance.

Simultaneously, the twin blades fell from the Ranger's grips. His right hand surged upward and laid hold of his antagonist's wrist, which bore the invading appendage. Tearing the hand away, he wrenched Akrabbim left exposing an unguarded chest. His left hand drove an open palm into the Knight's sternum, with the inky warrior's arm fully extended. He then released the captured limb allowing the Force user to tumble back.

Nemesis clashed his metallic wrist cuffs togethor, generating a mild hum. The prone swords jarred a bit, then flew within their wielder's grasp. Both were brought to waste level and arced out into a "V" pattern, jointly fortifying the upper and lower regions of his body.

[imported_Akrabbim]

The blow to the chest took the wind out of him, taking his breath slightly. He rolls away, regaining his feet once more. He lowers his sword slightly, pointing the tip of the blade directly at the man's eyes. His two shuriken remain in the ground where he threw the earlier. At the moment, they are slightly behind the man's legs.

He reaches out with the Force, drawing the shuriken up. He pulls them forward, guiding them into the joint behind the man's knees. The razor-sharp quantum metal bites sharply into the back of his knees.

[Nemesis]

Intense, burning pain surged up the legs. His knees caved out as the appendages fell limp, causing the assassin to collapse to his injured joints.

Nemesis felt the warm, crimson fluid trickle down; staining his attire with a rich, maroon hue. He slid the right hand along the inside of his thigh and across the cap until he discovered the assailants.

Forcefully, he removed the projectiles, still dripping with fresh blood. The Ranger grasped them tightly, careful not to puncture his palm upon any one of the many razor spines.

"I believe these belongs to you." Akrabbim's own weapons sailed toward him at an alarming speed, grazing his sleeves before being halted by an unseen power.

A devious chuckle sprang from beneath the obsidian facial covering.

"Don't feel smug yet, Jedi."

Twin ivory beacons narrowed on the Knight. In that horrific instant, the Force user realized, all to late, that his adversary was no longer blind.

Lashing to the front and up, the hunter's right blade carved a deep, thin line from Akrabbim's left hip to his right shoulder; lowering once more after the strike. Then gathering all his strength, braced himself on the two wounded extremities and lunged at his adversary's head with a decapitating swipe.

[imported_Akrabbim]

OOC: Both shuriken were used, attacking both knees. Also, if you fling one of my shuriken at me, I'll simply stop it mid-air and retrieve it. I can't control anything with the Force except my own weaponry, but I can control those rather well.

Akrabbim attempts to jump out of the way of the slicing blade, but fails to fully extricate himself from the area of danger. He twists his body to try to evade the weapon's arc, but his right side does not move fully out of range. The sword slices his right bicep rather deeply, but fortunately misses any major arteries. As the second blade sweeps for his neck, he flings up an illusion. With the illusion, he appears to raise his katana to block the incoming blade. Instead, Akrabbim drops under the blade, lashing out with his own sword at the man's right thigh.

[Nemesis]

OOC: My bad, I misunderstood the attack. Np, I'll just edit my last post.

As the pair of weapon's clashed, no vibration shivered along the Ranger's outstretched arm. No thunderous clap resulting from metal to metal contact. The Jedi's defensive maneuver had gone without any sound accompaniment whatsoever.

Suddenly, a hiss to the right, alarmed Nemesis to the oncoming katana, prompting a swift parry utilizing his right sword. Akrabbim's blade veered of course, but was met with the assassin's descending left. Twin honed edges pinched the Light Sider's weapon, then drove it to the ground with ample pressure applied by the Ranger's body upon his hilts.

The right blade was then brought across the whole of the katana to ensure its immobility. As before, the left sword slashed inward at the neck, only this time in the opposite direction.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim moves quickly, releasing his blade entirely. He moves forward, under the man's strike. As he raises his right arm, connecting with the man's wrist, he punches the man in the hip, destroying his balance. He continues the motion forward, standing, as he drives his left knuckles into the man's throat.

[Nemesis]

Nemesis gagged for breath. The Jedi's punches constricted his air flow, though only briefly, and shattered his already fragile stability. Each leg gave way in succession, causing the assassin to spiral back.

In one last attempt, he thrust both gloved hands forward, catching Akrabbim by the wrists. His right boot pressed into the Light Sider's abdomen, acting as fulcrum for what was to come. Employing his own falling momentum, the Ranger drug the Knight along, catapulting him over head with his well placed foot.

Akrabbim crashed, back first, through an adjacent table; coming to rest amid a shower of splinters and broken timber. Casting a warry eye to the prone man, the hunter fought to gain footing once more. His breaths remained shallow, as he recovered from the assualt against his throat.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim comes up slowly, battered by the fall. He sees that the assassin is slowly regaining his feet as well. Akrabbim reaches out to his fallen sword with the Force. He slams the butt of the katana's handle into the back of the man's already damaged knee. As the man lands on the ground, Akrabbim's sword moves across the man's neck.

I would stay down, were I you. I do not wish to cut your throat, but I will, if necessary. And I wouldn't recommend trying to shoot me, either. I'm already weakened, and if I were to lose hold over my sword, I fear the weight of the blade alone would prove... unpleasant. Yield.

[Nemesis]

"Weakened?" Nemesis questioned. "Jedi posses the ability to heal, do they not?"

The assassin spoke candidly for a man whose life dangled at the edge of a sword. Cold metal chilled the skin, as the katana's blade pressed closely against his throat.

[imported_Akrabbim]

The Jedi chuckles slightly, still holding his concentration.

Not all Jedi excel in the same gifts. And not to mention, I'm tired. If I were you, I wouldn't try to disrupt my concentration. It wouldn't take much for me to drop that blade.

So I say again: Yield.

[Nemesis]

"I'm afraid you don't quite understand." An ebony helm tilted, directing its gaze to the Jedi. "Yielding isn't something I do very well."

During the deliberately prolonged conversation, Nemesis’ arms glided away from his body. The distance between his sides and limbs was obscure enough to be hidden from the Knight, however large enough to accommodate his next action.

"You appear to be rather talented with illusions and that of the like." His biceps tensed. “Then perhaps you are familiar with the old adage about the hand being quicker than the eye.”

With one stalwart thrust, the Ranger ardently slammed his right wrist against the pendulous blade. Embers spewed from the savage laceration inflicted by the weapon’s edge into a metallic cuff. The katana’s mystic strings lost tension and the sharpened sword plunged downward, scarcely avoiding a fatal blow.

His left hand clutched the fallen hilt, serving to both steady the hunter during the climb to his feet, as well as drive the weapon deep into bronzed soil; preventing its removal. Parallel to these movements, the warrior transferred the right hand; laying claim to a remarkable pistol along the small of his back.

The blaster nimbly cleared its owner’s obsidian frame, took aim, and managed a single discharge. Searing pain engraved a fine line across Akrabbim’s cheek, as the blood red bolt grazed his face.

Long moments passed before Nemesis lowered his point blank stance on the Knight’s forehead. Commuting effortlessly back into place, the hand gun was holstered. Spectators rose from crevices and dust mounds following the thunderous crack, a vehement outcry, and deafening silence.

Standing at ready, yet lacking any badge of aggression; the ebony warrior peered at his rival.

[imported_Akrabbim]

Akrabbim reaces into his gi and draws two shuriken. He holds one in each hand, points extending through his fingers. He lowers into a slight crouch, advancing quickly forward, hoping to take advantage of the man's limited mobility. He slashes in with the points of the shuriken, attempting to wound the man before he can regain his swords.

[Nemesis]

Nemesis releases his grip on the entrenched blade, deftly swatting Akrabbim's approaching arms to either side. In one fluid motion the assassin planted a powerful right backhand across the Jedi's cheek and jaw. As his weary base bowed under the added weight, the left hand clutched its stationary handle once more. Then, using the sturdy position for added moment, the Ranger thrust forward connecting a risen right elbow with the Knight's nose causing a painful drop to his back.

The ivory flecks cast an icy glare upon the fallen Light Sider. Both hands had returned to a grasp on the katana.

[imported_Akrabbim]

He stands once more, jaw aching from the blow. He rolled with it, lessening the impact, but the strike was still painful. He moves to where the man's swords lay, and retrieves them. He begins spinning the blades in the butterfly pattern, advancing on the wounded assassin. He keeps an eye on any extremity, preparing to slice off any body part that reaches toward him.

[Nemesis]

Pallid, cold eyes watched the advancing Jedi, the assassin's own blades being wielded by his foe. Remaining unnaturally calm, Nemesis lifted the right hand from its support position over the katana, brushing it against a rectangular panel adjoining his hip.

The hilt of each spiraling weapon burned with a mild blue tinge, then loosed continual waves of electrical voltage throughout Akrabbim's frame. Every muscle cried out in aggony, as the fervent pain set his body ablaze with unseen flames.

"Did you think I would be so foolish, giving my enemies safe passage to use my own weapons against me?"

[imported_Akrabbim]

The waves of electricity flow over Akrabbim as he falls to the ground. The agony courses through his body as he falls to the ground. He summons all his strength for one more attack.

Perhaps that was foolish...

Akrabbim closes his eyes and reaches out with the Force. He sends an illusion to Nemesis of his katana, still embedded in the ground. This time, though, he masks the sound as well. He reaches to his weapon through the Force, lifting it out of the ground. Blocking the sound as well as the sight of the weapon, Akrabbim rams the weapon's tip into the man's ribs, puncturing his right lung before exiting the front of his chest.

Who... is the fool... indeed?

With that, Akrabbim passes out, exhausted.

[Nemesis]

A flash of pain, then enflamed breathing alerted the ebony assassin to his mortal wound. At last, it would seem, with his final act in their contest, the Jedi truly realized he had to adapt his offense in order to prevail; albeit far to late for the unconscious Knight to claim victory.

He felt the agony spreading like wild fire, through his body. Collapsing to his knees, the hunter began to cough. Each gyration only magnified the hurt.

Reaching around with one hand as the other covered the gash in his chest, Nemesis aquired a slender, grey cylinder from his utility belt. The chest wound had obviously damaged his lung, and was now in desperate need of thorough medical attention. Tiny beams of red light lept from one end, their heat cauterizing the puncture's opening. Then, with a swift rotation, the opposite end injected a powerful pain killer; numbing the general area for a brief time.

Persistent shallow breaths made the rise to his feet difficult. Staggering to Akrabbim, the Ranger in tended to liberate his twin blades from the Light sider's weight.

While kneeling once more to free his weapons, the hunter placed a small device against the other man's back.

"Now at least you won't die on this lonely planet." His eyes turned toward the heavens. "Your friends should be able to find you quickly."

Standing now, he glared at a timid and rather corpulent inn keeper.

"How much for the damage?" His question went unanswered. "Well this should cover it." An extended glove placed several square objects into the chubby fellow's hands, each accounting for several hundred credits. "Give these to his friends..." motioning at the Knight, "...they should be able to transfer that into whatever it is that you people call money."

Nemesis' right arm clutched his rib as the field dressing was beginning to lose effect.

Dust rocketed down the narrow village street, welcoming the Raven's arrival. He moved with as much haste as his injured legs could supply, heading for the space craft. Once inside, he immediately tended to his injuries.

This was a battle he would not soon forget. Though he had ermerged victorious, the price of victory was heavy. His opponent had been well trained and highly skilled. The Ranger left this place with new understanding of the Jedi, both their strengths and weaknesses.

[imported_Akrabbim]

ADMINS: PLEASE DO NOT DELETE. I have attempted to contact Nemesis by way of private message over a week ago, and he does not have any contact info in his profile. This is my last way to contact him.

OOC: Nemesis, we need to discuss this thread. I believe you may have done some things that are not quite kosher. Please contact me at "Draken Chakara" on AOL IM or e-mail me at Akrabbim@akrabbim.com