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Duel between Armenia Draygo, Kykatu Ryu, and Exodus


Starting off, let me tip my hat to all three of you. Each of you is a master of your craft and master ranked roleplayer. Two of you are even faction leaders in this. This duel was exhausting to go through trying to make sure I had the dance beat of the entire melee down. Each of you brought your A game and it shows. The gloves got to come off and you all got to show off in some way.


I took several pages of notes over this duel, sought the help of the Google gods, Merriam-Webster, Wookiepedia, each of you, and other moderators in making this ruling. I leaned heavily upon Charles’ roleplaying guide (a godsend) as well.

One thing I want to quote from that guide, that would have helped greatly in this duel and for anyone else reading here to take note of is: 



it is a good idea to explicitly telegraph your intended moves/actions/attacks to your opponent, either in the main body of a duel post or maybe in a spoiler at the end of your post with a tl;dr summary. This helps avoid confusion from both your opponent and the Mod reviewing the duel.


In reading each post, I noted a lot of flavorful descriptions, expansions of the battlefield and effects on it, and subtle actions taken by each character involved. A few times, those were even written as possible uses of powers in the battle that may or may not have an effect on another or may be exploitable by another. I believe most of them were done for flavor and not directed to alter an enemy’s actions, but it is worth noting that these exist and could be taken as attacks or moves, should someone have chosen to focus in on them. 

I noted a few very minor spelling or grammatical errors. A lack of a space or the word “the” or comma usage or sentence structure, here or there, but nothing that was egregious enough to interrupt the flow of battle. You each clearly put thought and effort into these posts and it shows.


Like I said above PAGES of notes. Here are some of the highlights of those highlights:


We are in a galaxy far far away, and I think it is safe to assume most of us are not personally familiar with the real world applications of weapons such as flash bangs. This had me scurrying to find the Star Wars variant. This is a weapon that is not as limited as games like C.O.D. would lead one to believe. The thick smoke covering was used as a way to dissipate some of this threat.

Of note on Wookieepedia is that flash bangs are differentiated from concussion grenades. This would make one assume that they are for different purposes, and while one may have some effect of the other, it is not the intended purpose and in a galaxy that boasts all sorts of fantastic tech, would render the unintended effect relatively negligible. Flash bangs flash and concussion grenades concuss and frag grenades, well those are another thing all together. 
Another note is that flash bangs were designed to disorient biologicals and droids (tech). This may be something to note of, as it was a surprise to me, and take advantage of down the road.


My big dilemma with the flash bangs in this duel was the throwing of the first one. It was thrown and detonated in the same post, allowing the illumination of one’s enemy, which was then followed by an attack in the same post. I understand that this was meant as an opener to close the gap and begin the duel; however, this one action directed the entire rest of the duel.


You all spoke of and further defined the field of battle, especially darkness and smoke; things that were initially present on the battlefield. You reacted appropriately overall and even dissipated a majority of the smoke with the frag grenade concussions, while also altering the levels of lighting from dim to nonexistent to sabers provide glow and everything in between.


On that note, I think there may have been some confusion on the size of the playing field. This is an issue that can be overcome with OOC communication throughout the course of the duel. Nobody likes feeling like they misread a scene and then end up putting themselves in a bad position because if it. OOC communication also ensures that respect for the other players is maintained, regardless of IC actions. I think that there is plenty of respect between all three players here and I could see it in the posts. Mistakes that were made, I do not believe to have been intentional on any level. 

With that respect comes the need to acknowledge an opponent’s actions and even more so, what an opponent may write that changes the course of the fluid environment. Overall, this was handled well. Going back to my note earlier, it can be hard to respond to every little thing when so much is poured into a single post; but key actions must be at least acknowledged in the others’ posts.


The Goliath already took a beating at Corellia. Ya’ll didn’t help the cause of the pride of the Sith fleet! This poor beast is MESSED UP! But, boy, it was sure fun to read! I think at this point, all all of you are about to get sucked into the void of space without divine or force-induced intervention.


The force was at play here a lot, as should be expected. Ryu didn’t shirk in this department, regaining his connection to the force in Round 3 and really taking it to the top. Remember that there is some level of power loss or cool down that accompanies such massive outputs of force energy.


Round 3 was where you all really rocked it. Starting with the telekinetic force shredding blast at the end of Round 2, you all took it to the top. Without the force, you all might have been whipped by then; but the force carried the day.


That huge force lightning empowered arm grabbing for Exodus’ chest was an awesome move. Coupled with a vicious slash that would be hard for anyone but a master of darkness and combat to overcome.

The Mouse droid had me laughing. It was a light moment in an intense sequence and very Star Wars. Kriffing droids.


The growing maelstrom of the force has me shudder at what might come next.


Up until Round 3, this felt more like a not so happy reunion between two long lost brothers bent on kicking the others’ shebs; but Round 3 changed all that and really altered the course of where I saw this thing going.


Draygo came out cartwheeling with force-powered lightsaber combat that allowed Exodus to dance back and forth with it at will in his post.


One thing to remember; however, is that, as per the guide, we need to match our actions to how an opponent makes theirs. Whereas Draygo and Exodus were very open in their play around and across the field, Ryu’s moves, while crazed, were a calculated crazy and very specific. The danger lies in taking that and forcing actions on another player that they did not write or intend, even if done for flavoring. Exodus’ Round 3 post could have been a whole other duel and was fun to read as it gave more life to the whole thing and allowed for the setup of the maelstrom. That being said, if this would have happened anywhere beside Round 3 it would have, like the flash bang above, greatly altered the flow of the battle. If it alters the flow of the narrative post battle remains to be seen. 

In looking at the guide, It is noted in the example that a character would not have made a move, if it did not have a purpose. Each of us are responsible for the purpose of our own characters and responsible to not infer anything outside of IC assumptions and opinions onto other characters.


I honestly am not sure how you all are going to get out of this. Even if all three of you come out of this duel without a killstroke. You are being sucked into the void from a mangled and damaged vessel in the aftermath of a battle whilst the force swirls and rages all around you. There is still a whole crew of screaming stomping Sith Empire goons aboard the ship too.


This was a three way duel, and one among  some of the best of the best we have here on site. To make a simple ruling of so-and-so wins and gets the next post, seems hard to do and somewhat unfair given the totality of everything.


That being said, for ruling purposes, I believe that the winner is Armiena Draygo. The next post will be hers; however, following that, Exodus will also get some semblance of a post. The ship is Sith territory as are the majority of, if not all, of the NPCs aboard. Additionally, it is his force maelstrom that is raging within the vacuum dredged halls of the ship and what is not addressed in Draygo’s post needs to be addressed as well. After this, depending on the circumstances, Kakuto Ryu can post; provided he is still alive. At this point I do not even know which side the dude is on!


Thanks for entrusting me to rule on this guys. You all did awesome.


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Mordecai barely reacted as the Jedi attempted his escape, keeping his stride. There was no rush. He had an entire star destroyer to fight through. It was the boy's own closemindedness that caused them to be enemies. Unfortunately, the jedi would rather kill his men and attempt escape than have a real debate. He nodded at Kahla, and she took off after him. As she did, he felt something change. A shift in the Force. His stride faltered, and he stopped for the moment. The waves were weaker now. Had the Dark Lord succumbed to defeat? How had two Jedi fought off the most powerful Sith in the galaxy? Perhaps there was more to them than he had originally allowed for. He glanced at the chase. He'd capture the boy, then intercept the others. Regardless of how they'd won, he would finish them off.


"Troopers, engage the Jedi. Kill him. He's used up our good will. Kahla will lead the chase- she is still your commander. Go."


He glanced down the darkened passage behind him, hesitating. His pride was on the line, of course, but if he defeated the dark Lord's opponent's, even just after their battle... The would be glory to be had. The halls seemed to tilt as he mused, the durasteel dancing as the shadows of the dreadnaught lapped at the walls' solidity. The darkness called to him. The vengeful victory that would vindicate his vile views. It played at his mind, and he took a step towards them. The whispers were maddening. Corellia was a cursed world, it had to be. Every time he visited, the whispers grew more urgent, more malignant. The battle was lost though, and for now, he would lose the chance to discover why.

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There was an almost innocent glee to Draygo’s smile, a crinkling at the side of her pale green eyes and an undisguisable gleam that betrayed her thrill at the fight. The Force was bearing down to take her; the fate of the duel was determined, and all that the veteran Jedi could do was to relish every precious second that remained. This close to her opponent, there was no room for subtlety or dash--it was strength against strength, speed against speed. The graceful whirling of her favored Ataru devolved into something resembling the brutish shoving matches of Djem So, but with more vicious, kinetic movements that continually attempted to penetrate the masked Sith's guard. Her arm, somewhere beyond conscious thought, seemed to have gained a volition of its own, her wrist subtly redirecting strikes by centimeters at the last millisecond before their landing, and allowing its owner to focus on her footwork and appreciate what seemed to be the last minutes of her life.


It was a very different experience from the climaxes of terror and relief that Draygo was accustomed to in battle.


The masked Sith, beyond all belief, matched the assault with a disciplined withdrawal, allowing his opponents to entangle themselves at his pleasure. Draygo continued to press her attack, for a perilous moment managing to pin his crimson blade mere centimeters from his face while Ryu was about to cleave through his neck. A consummate duelist, however, he slipped through by simultaneously angling his blade to intercept the slash behind his shoulder and delivering an elbow to Armiena’s chin with the same maneuver. The click of bone and teeth clashing resounded even over the howling of their blades--she recoiled and tasted blood--she had bitten through her tongue--but was back to assaulting the Sith without a moment of hesitation. But actually reaching the masked Sith proved impossible--Kakuto Ryu towered over the man, half-man, half-metal, and all murderous intent as the amalgam battered down the Sith’s defenses with a bladed arm and finally drew blood.


A fleeting temptation to slash through Ryu’s midsection passed through her mind.


That was different. For a fraction of a second, Armiena hesitated.


That hesitation was nearly fatal. A Force-powered wind knocked the veteran Jedi over and sent her tumbling as a mass of oversized robes across the deck, stopping only when a gap between the plating opened and spilled her into a nest of wires and conduits. Those two plates came away with the shriek of tearing metals splintering away into a hundred fragments that ripped just over Draygo’s head. She glanced upward, eyes widening when she beheld a cloud of debris swirling about the masked Sith, breathing in and out as more power was funneled into its core. Flashes of lightning crackled within the dust, arcing from pieces of debris and onto Goliath’s innards. It was arrogant and menacing in its power; it demanded supplication--satiation--and threatened to smite any mortal that defied it, like the embodiment of a cruel god from ancient mythology.


Like the maelstrom that the technique was named for, the coiled Force Storm of destructive energy threatened to take upon a life of its own. It would suck up the power of the three Force-Sensitives and translate it into kinetic force and unloosed energy, consuming everything within its path until it had nothing to vent its malice against. Given free reign and time to indulge its predilections, it would devour Goliath and her crew; the smaller ships of the Sith fleet would be mere flotsam against its fury. Would it even be content with smashing those playthings? It might even visit its wrath upon Centerpoint Station and darken the skies of Corellia.


That would mean the deaths of billions, caused by another episode in the unending struggle between the Jedi and Sith. That wouldn’t merely be another atrocity in their war, but a further escalation and the beginning of a new struggle, one straight out of the Jedi Master's worst nightmares. It would be Force-Sensitives against everyone else. Draygo could not see an end to that conflict--only further escalation until it consumed every tradition that studied The Force, and perhaps even put an end to the life of The Force itself.


Until the spawning of this nascent Force Storm, Draygo hadn’t desired the death of this Sith--taking a limb or stunning him with her blaster would have been sufficient for her aims. But his recklessness needed to die right here.


As the veteran Jedi rose, her tattered robes spilling from her shoulders, an arc of lightning struck downward to destroy her. Armiena's flesh offered it no challenge; it coursed through her body as though she were a superconducting coil, entering her body at her shoulder and exiting at her left knee with barely more than a twitch. It exploded against the pipes that she stood on, soaking the Jedi Master in a geyser of tepid water in an instant. She stepped into the swirling cloud of dust on the next inhalation, allowing herself to be buffeted back and forth with each breath of the storm. Again and again Draygo was struck by lightning as she leaned into the whirlwind, but each strike had no more effect on her body than a painful twitch and grimace. She unclasped the weapons she had brought with her on the assault to allow them to be swept into the storm, adding a pair of vibrodaggers and a belt of blaster cells into the cloud. The next flash of lightning exited her body to direct itself against one of the loosed vibrodaggers, and it exploded into a miniature fireball and a puff of metal splinters as its power cell detonated. The storm exhaled again, this time pulverizing the ceiling and causing the contents of the deck immediately above them to swirl about its core.


That plan was no good--Armiena realized that she would never be able to direct this energy. It might have no power against her, but she had no power over it.


At the next heartbeat, the veteran Jedi caught a gleam of a silvery rod revolving in the Force Storm, a delicate wisp of liquid cable trailing from it. It was one of her lightsabers, miraculously intact despite having been swept up in the lightning and the fury. The very end of the frayed cable kept teasing against the ankle of the masked Sith. A touch of telekinesis caused it to coil around his ankle in a loose knot. The next gust of power from the storm planted it firmly in her metal palm. Another bolt of lightning came down from the shattered ceiling to strike her. She accepted it without complaint, allowing its foul energy to course through her body, through her lightsaber… and into the masked Sith. And with that, Armiena didn’t need to move a muscle to kill the Sith. All she needed to do was let go of her own lightsaber.


Armiena was deafened by a great crash. She was blinded by a great flash. Her body was thrown off of its feet. There was a great impact, and then there was nothing.




Some time later, Draygo coughed. Her ribs complained at the movement. There was a strange pressure on her cranium. A pair of breaths and a hacking cough later, the veteran Jedi realized that she was crumpled upside-down against one of the walls of this chamber--what was left of it, anyway--as a tangled heap of limbs. It was quiet. The maelstrom had died away--deprived of its fuel source, it allowed the debris field to slam against the deck and clouds of dust to settle in wafts.


She knew she wasn’t dead. Armiena had experienced death before. She hadn’t coughed, nor had she rubbed dust out of her eyes, nor had she been shivering against the cold, for that matter. Groaning at the complaints from her ribs and broken arm, the veteran Jedi collected herself until the world righted itself and her boots were firmly planted of the riven deckplates. Her lightsabers, tidily gathered  by some unseen hand, rested only a few meters away to be retrieved by their master. Draygo frowned in confusion. This wasn’t supposed to have happened--she had sensed the coming of her end. Why was she still alive, and the masked Sith dead?


Nor was he dead, or at least not yet. Armiena sensed the flickering lamplight of his life fading, only a short distance away. The Jedi picked over the debris to find him, head swiveling for a sign of Kakuto Ryu. She called out for him, coughing and wincing as she inhaled the disturbed dust.


Armiena found the body of the masked Sith a crumpled ruin, tossed by his cruel god as an expendable plaything against the bulkheads. His body emitted the foul odors of burned flesh and cloth. A faint gurgling sound rumbled in his throat. Draygo had been around enough death to understand his fate. His lungs and diaphragm were burned through and he was struggling to draw breath, fighting both against the torn tissue of his body and the fluids that were slowly smothering him. It was an unenviable way to die. It would be more merciful to end it herself--it would require nothing more than a slash of her lightsaber across the cranium, and then the pain would end. Her metal hand reached for her weapon, but the final gasp rattled from his throat before the hilt could even ignite.


She reconsidered before reaching to open his mask. She would allow him to keep at least a modicum of dignity in his death. The debris shivered under her feet. It was possible that this deck was no longer stable, or secondary explosions were pounding the decks below them.


"Ryu?" She tried to call out again despite her bleeding tongue, then began to hack against the settling clouds of dust. Her Padawan, at least, was still alive. Genesis was frightened out of his wits, but still among the living--and running for his life.

Edited by ObliviousKnight
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Adrenaline was an old old friend, one that I had relied upon very much of my life, whether out of fear or a moment of anger, it had always been a constant companion. Such was it today as my heightened senses became fully aware of my surroundings and the moment I had placed myself in during my attempt at escape once again. Something that I was generally well at, despite my injuries.


If I had not been trained to use the Force, nor have its aid at this very moment, this moment would have ended rather abruptly, something I was very aware of as the sounds of igniting gas echoed briefly as bolts of crimson slid into my perifial and ahead of me. One could attest it to luck, or even fate. But how the barrage of volleys managed to miss me, I am still unsure. There was no way that even the Apprentice would have missed. But as the one streamed past me into the blast door's control just ahead of me, I knew that it was life or death in this singular moment of time.


In my run, I kicked my foot out and pivoted, guiding my blade into my defense, striking one or two blaster bolts in the process as I kicked myself backward with the Force. Curling my form up into a folded plank, i watched as one of the bolts struck what seemed to be a flashbang on the hip of the soldiers as i slide through the diminishing hole of the blast door as it closed shut and landed hard against the bulkhead, sending me into a briefly debilitating daze.


Scrambling to my feet, the urge to run still grasping at me, I stumbled for a second. It was hard to move, not just from my injuries at the hands of this Mordecai and loss of blood, but from my head crashing into durasteel at usual velocity. No one could ever accuse me of not having a head, that's for certain. In the distance, I could hear the clambering of feet, sounding like twenty or thirty in a solid looming march. And as I reached out to feel for my Master, the darkness still looming rendered me nearly blind to her and Ryu's location.


My mind scrambled at the notion of their faint signatures, my own form injured and waning. What was I to do? What would Armiena want me to do? And I had to think fast. The looming march was growing louder and louder as time progressed. Now that my eye had settled, I glanced about and found my sole chance catacorner from my position and away from their approach. With a heavy heart, i knew the only thing i could do: Ventilation Shaft.


Moments later, Klaxons resounded as I flew into open space and toward salvation, Jedi Transponder Codes open. And in the pit of my stomach sat guilt as I briefly looked back. My only hope was that Armiena would understand as I winced in my shift back before me.

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Sealed doors hissed and began to unfasten under heavy strain, opening to reveal large formations of Sith Troopers hard-aligned to their position. This from the Northern exit, was mimicked exactly from the Southern exit. There were four lengthy rows of at least dozens on both sides, sprawling beyond what the new outpour of light could reveal. They were silent and diligent, as if the sounds of chanting and war shouts were a thing of the imagination. Side-by-side, the rows shifted forward in exact harmony, pooling into the halls with no room to spare. Their silver-metallic brilliance was haunting, visors that were faceless and unassuming to any natural identity. Their raised rifles were as black as night, searching the corridor before aligning to the woman that stood by their King.


There was another here, and his look was more primal than anything they had ever seen. His breaths were unlike natural breathing, more akin to heaves of anger and mania that were wild expressions of body language. He was just another monster to the cold nature of the men and women that donned the silver carapace.


Between their line formations, black armor-clad Red Knights of Truth made their way forward, some with lightsabers in hand and others with Sith steel forged. Swords, halberds, and brute hammers were all the rage as eight militarily trained warriors stepped forward coldly ahead of their lessers. One descended from each line between the formations of Sith Troopers, silently brooding over the scene.


The militia wasted no time in securing the area, understanding the urgency of the situation. Four Sith Troopers departed from their formations under a command that hissed over their transmissions interface, and moved without hesitation to examine the fallen Sovereign. Their hands pulled at the pieces of the cracked armor plate, listening over his chest and feeling for additional wounds. Exodus had suffered a crippling electrical charge, most similar to the one that had hit Kakuto Ryu earlier in the fight, and most certainly the one that had buzzed through Draygo. Neither had ended their daring charge, but somehow this one differed.


His last breath left him only a short time ago, but the medical soldiers understood their protocol. His chest was torched, and his insides pushed steam through his armor and clothes. Each soldier possessed variable kits with differing medical paraphernalia, adjusted uniquely to different expertise. Quickly employed was a Sith-oriented medical kit with a case harboring special potions and medical equipment engineered for use by the Dark Lords of the Sith. The contents of the kit included vials of injectable bacta and bota, injector power cells, wireless defibrillator, cardiovascular monitors, injector handle and head, resuscitating ventilator, adaptors for pressor field generator, and filtration transpirators and strange ingredients that were best left unnamed.


They made quick work of a few vials, injecting them into his chest, neck and thigh while wrapping a strange vest over his top half. Exodus did not flinch. His mask sat crooked on his head, with empty eyes that  stared  almost tellingly towards the reckless Jedi. There was a sound similar to a wheeze that escaped, or perhaps it was a gasp from one of the soldiers from the surprise of the situation. With the helmet, it was a hard tell. They disappeared immediately after, beyond the line of friendlies before anyone could confirm what it was.

All eyes returned to the two left inside the makeshift arena.


Guns trained on the pair, while the Red Knights inched closer with weapons raised. What came next was blood, this much they understood. Word was that the other beaten Jedi had escaped the vessel and tucked tail without the people he had come with, and now the walls were shrinking. What remained seemed to dangle like power in front of the wildcard Ryu, for he had shamed his kin greatly, jeopardizing his legacy. What would he do next?




The fleet had distanced themselves greatly from the Corellian battle and now were mere moments from their jump-retreat at last. The balance had taken a beating; Sith Master Qaela had been killed and had lost her campaign with Centerpoint remaining as a final beachhead. The Great Nyrys had gone MIA but communication had confirmed that the Jedi Grandmaster Adenna had been killed by the infamous Blood Prince and that the hierarchy of power shifted slowly. The tides were real, Aryian had spoke of them. The Goliath and the remaining fleet executed their jump to Onderonian space, reconciling with their homeport and now shuddered to the unbreakable shores of home.

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With a nod she was off, her troopers followed on her heels. Kahla's heart pumped and the rush she felt fueled her push. Her heart felt heavy, skipping a beat as she hauled on the blast doors through the force. Taking all her might to open them enough for her soldiers to pour in before her. She stepped through to the hall marching troopers had filled, no sign of the Jedi.


"We have an escaped Jedi, he came this way. Any sign of him?!" She demanded. "No ma'am, not here."


Her anger brewed deep inside her. "He'll be going back to his allies, Take your group that way. Squad with me, we're securing exits." her tone was rock steady, and her words sounded almost practiced. The garrison turned and took off towards their dark lord. Kahla took her group, heading back towards Mordecai.


As they passed him, she quickly remarked. "He's out of our reach, but only for now. A garrison is headed towards his allies, and we're securing the hangar."


With that she was off, her and her troop holding a steady run towards the hangar. This day would not make another failure.

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Mordecai arrived at the hanger shortly after his apprentice. The Dark Lord's death had resonated with him. It was a sign. The Sith would not win the war like this, fighting for world after world that were worth little more than the trinkets one could loot them for. They needed to split the rebel forces. keep them guessing as to where the Sith would strike next. He gazed out at the ruins of the Sith fleet as the Goliath entered hyperspace. He would need new ships... And he knew just where to find them. His slave had been scouring the Sith archives for the location of a lost fleet on Raxus Prime, wreckage that had been lost for millennia. All that the ruined fleet waited for was to be found, crewed, and upgraded.


He glanced at Kahla, her failure weighing on himself. Her failure was his failure. She would be redeemed through blood, whether it be the Rebels' or her own.


"Come, apprentice. We have much work to do, and little time before the Rebels rally."

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As she reached the hangar, her heart sank. It was neigh empty, naught but the shuttle she came in on and the bodies she'd left in her wake. With no sign of another ship, she knew the Jedi had made his escape. Mordecai wasn't far behind her, and she could feel the flurry of emotions he himself was dealing with.


The lack of reprimand came as a surprise, but Kahla wouldn't let it go to her head. "You have a plan then? I'm eager to hear."


She made her way to the shuttle, studying the weapon she had taken from her fight. This is what she was meant for; not just to slay countless in combat, but to pick out individuals of strength. If she couldn't kill them, or force them into retreat, at the very least she would delay them on their path. She could be a devastating force, and happily she would follow her master into battle.

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