AA Ladder: Sashar vs Zandro - Semi-Final

(Disclaimer: This opening post, although submitted by Zandro, is authorised by the other Judge, Wuntila Zratian Entar, Proconsul of Arcona. It in no way breaches the forms of the AA and it is simply due to time constraints that this has been implemented in such a way. It will not affect the outcome of the match, nor will it provide any advantage to either competitor.)

The two combatants stood in the Bestiary of the Arcona Citadel, the unfamiliar surroundings mingling with the Force presence of the many animals that surrounded the Dark Jedi. A place where few members of the Clan ever really went to, the Bestiary would hold surprises for anyone in the tournament, be they high or low within the Clan’s hierarchy. A blue skinned humanoid stalked into view in front of the two Erinos half-brothers and graced them both with a steely nod of greeting before launching into speech without a moment of preamble.

“You know why you’re here; one of you will advance to the final of this tournament while the other will head home to nurse their wounds. Don’t kill each other, and fight like we know you can. Begin when you’re ready; I’ll be watching.”

With that Wuntila walked out of view, leaving the two Semi-finalists looking at each other as the battle for a place in the final of the tournament began.


(Sashar to post first)

“Ner’vod,” Sashar began, grinning playfully “, This has been a long time coming.”

Zandro’s one good eye gazed back at him imperiously. The Elder knew his brother and first apprentice very, very well. Whilst the Consul currently held the edge in victories over Sashar, there was no doubt in either’s mind about the skill difference they now possessed. Soulfire’s Sergeant was simply in a different league. That did not, however mean that Zandro had given up. He’d faced down Elders and won before – this would be no different.

The Elder had been itching for this fight for years. Determined to prove that he was the stronger combatant, he’d begged Zandro for a rematch, but the cycloptic Consul had always declined. They both knew it wasn’t an issue of him being scared. No, Zandro simply didn’t want to put their familial bond through such a trial as combat demanded. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to dodge this particular encounter.

”It’s just sparring. I’m only sparring with him.

“Shut up.” Zandro replied shortly. Sashar was famous for his misdirection in combat and this time would be no different. If his mouth was open, he was trying to mindfuck the Consul.

”Not gonna happen.

The former Consul grinned at his brother and shrugged off his unique grey Shadesworn cloak, revealing his weapon of choice: Fraternity. The bronze and black hilt glinted softly in the dim light of the bestiary, and almost as if on cue, one of the Drexls cried out. Sashar’s old lightsaber, named to signify the bond he felt with all of his brothers in the Erinos family had been destroyed on the battlefield outside of the old Citadel during the Yuuzhan Vong invasion by none other than Zandro himself during their last encounter. Subsequently, Sashar had repaired it and given it to Juda as a concordance of fealty when the red-haired Prelate had reached the mid-ranks of Equites, however Juda had returned it to its rightful owner when he went into deep cover to track Dash Kuatir. Sashar had since kept it in reserve. It appeared that he’d kept it in reserve for Zandro.

In the Bestiary there were no less than a dozen Drexls, each caged up in corrals running six apiece along a long, wide corridor with a low ceiling. At one end was a door leading to the innards of the Citadel proper, and at the other end there was simply an opening out of the pinnace to the sky and city far below. It was a poor choice of arena, in Sashar’s opinion. The low ceiling meant that there’d be no jumping too high, there’d be no flashy acrobatics Zandro was famous for…but the former Consul felt that it robbed the duel of the majesty it deserved. When two powerful members of the same family came together in such a way, they warranted at least a half-decent arena in which to due-

Zandro’s saber flashed into life and with a burst of preternatural speed, the Sith was on him[BOS]. Fraternity came up with a mechanical roar and caught the overhead slash high and clear from Sashar’s body. He twisted the blade expertly around and backed up a half-pace, but his younger brother’s style was nothing if not persistent – and unpredictable. Instead of going for a lateral swipe, the Consul feinted stabbing forward, brought Synapse around between their bodies, and boosted his strength momentarily as he brought the blade overhead and down, frighteningly fast [BOS][EHA]. Sashar barely parried the attack, distracted by the feint and backed up another half-step, edging closer and closer to the open sky behind him. Distractedly, the former Consul noticed it had begun to rain outside.

Sensing the tension from the fight, the Drexls became uneasy in their corrals and began to growl and roar, almost as if egging the two brothers on. Neither paid them any heed. Zandro’s offense hastened, only to wash against the elder brother’s defensive saberplay like rain on a window. Faster and faster the brothers duelled[EQS][EQS], neither getting the advantage, neither trying to take it – they simply sparred as they had done thousands of times before. They knew each others’ styles inside out, however everyone made mistakes. This was more an expression of combat; it was a series of probes and rebuffs more to watch for weaknesses than anything else.

Something in Sashar’s expression changed, and without any fanfare or warning, his saber play went from defensive to offensive. So sudden was the change, and given that the two brothers were a mere pair of meters apart that he had almost no time to hop back a couple of paces. The burning bronze tip of Fraternity slashed down, barely missing Zandro’s face. His robes were cut from the neck down to the crotch, and only temerity from the Force granted the Sith enough time to back up and avoid being gutted [PCG]. His robes hung loosely open, exposing an angry red line not dissimilar to sunburn dictating the lightsaber’s path.

Sashar grinned at his one-eyed brother, winking playfully. Before the Consul could formulate a suitably pithy retort, the Elder leapt backwards, and threw himself out of the breach into the sky. Gaping, Zandro ran over to the lip of the precipice and goggled at what he saw. Flying back up was a huge black/brown/puple shifting mass of wings, talons, claws and horns[AFW]. Mounted on its back was his brother. He’d managed to call the largest of his Force Wraiths and have it catch him in freefall, and was now riding it like a war mount. Ironically enough, the Wraith was called the Drexl.

“Two can play at that game, ner’vod.” The Sith muttered, as he turned back inside, his lightsaber to hand. It took nearly a minute, but all twelve cage locks were broken, and Zandro climbed atop one of the beasts, his sheer dark will imposing enough to cow the creature into obeying him. With a squeeze of his heels, the massive beast flapped its wings and shot out to join Sashar.

The Erinos Patriarch’s laughter could be heard through the worsening rain, the wind and the squall from below and Zandro had to admit, their arena was now more fitting – in the skies above Estle city, surrounded by no less than a dozen Drexls, each circling, climbing and diving in a large furball, looking for the opportunity to take down one another.

A blast of Force Lighting cut through the air and nearly caught the Consul in the face, but he swerved down to avoid it [LTG]. Sashar just laughed harder and beckoned for his brother to come get him.

Zandro mused silently on the strangeness of the situation he and his half-brother currently found themselves in. After all, riding a Drexl into combat against an Elder and his Force Wraith wasn’t exactly a normal day in the office for the cycloptic Consul.

Not my smartest move either, but this was never going to be painless.

Eye squinting against the steadily worsening rain, Zandro ignored his half-brother for a moment as he surveyed the scene around him; Drexl’s barrelling around and fighting amongst each other, stretching wings that for too long had been restrained by life in the short-ceilinged bestiary which had become their home in the Citadel. Wind buffeted the rider and his mount, pushing them to the side slightly and causing the normally fearless Warlord to grasp for the nearest spike that jutted up from his ride’s back. Lightsaber in one hand and Drexl in the other, the Erinos leaned forward to whisper into the ear of his mount, a slight grin slipping onto his face as he spoke.

“Fly me closer, I want to hit him with my sword.”

Zandro was certain that the Drexl hadn’t understood him, but as he straightened up he felt the sinewy body below him lurch as the impressive wings of his mount thrust the duo forwards. Unfortunately, the Drexl had decided to go after one of his fellows rather than the Force Wraith upon which the Erinos Elder was sitting. Cursing, the Ace realised just how far the odds against him were stacking, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend the situation and a possible way out of it.

I’m riding a Drexl that can be at best called rebellious, whereas Sashar is mounted on a Force Wraith that is intrinsically linked to him and will follow his commands to the letter. He’s stronger and he’s got twice as many eyes that work. Fuck.

Sighing heavily, the Warlord decided to acquiesce to his mount’s desires and didn’t try to change the beast’s trajectory, allowing the Drexl to gambol towards the nearest of his fellows with reckless abandon. Stretching out with the Force, Zandro latched onto the presence of one of the ‘enemy’ Drexl’s and began to manipulate the energy within his body. At once, the targeted beast seemed to stop in mid-air as though every part of its body were locked into place, immoveable and useless [STA]. The Drexl dropped like a stone, no longer supporting itself as it had been immobilised by the Consul’s Force attack, rapidly approaching the floor with senses fully active and no way to halt it’s descent. The Warlord felt a pang of sympathy for the poor creature as it collided with the ground and veritably exploded upon impact, however the Erinos’ attention was brought back to his immediate safety as his own Drexl tried unsuccessfully to dodge a charge from the almost forgotten Elder and his Wraith. Zandro’s left hand saved his life as it kept gripping the spike, anchoring the Consul to his mount as the beast let out a shrill shriek of mingled pain and anger as it tried to recover from the body-strike it had received from Sashar’s Wraith. Glaring over at his half-brother, Zandro’s anger was further stoked by the small grin tugging at the Obelisk’s lips, almost invisible through the rain and wind that seemed to lash at the two impromptu beast-riders. Suppressing the rage that was steadily building within him, the Sith instead leaned forwards and willed his Drexl to charge at the more experienced Arconan, a woop of joy escaping his lips as the beast swept forwards, clearly intent on retaliating for the wound it had been given in its side by Sashar’s shadowy Wraith. The two mounted Jedi passed each other, both lashing out with lightsabers and both hitting nothing but air, slicing through nothing but rain. The duo’s weapons hissed angrily as the droplets hit the shafts of energy, sending out small tendrils of steam as the water superheated and the two riders prepared for another charge.

If we keep this up, he will easily win; I need to get him on solid ground.

Raising his voice to a shout so as to carry over the sounds of rain, wind and Drexl cries, Zandro yelled to his brother.

“Well, that was fun, but how about we end this like men? I’ll see you on the roof.”

Zandro and his steed ascended, wind and rain whipping at his hair as he shot through the air atop his Drexl. Reaching the roof, the Sith leapt off the beast’s back and finally had his feet on solid ground again as he landed on the roof of the Arcona Citadel. Throwing a mock salute towards the wounded Drexl that had acted as his makeshift flying companion during the skirmish in the skies, Zandro allowed his attention to return to his brother as the elder Erinos landed in a crouch a handful of metres away from the Consul. Rising up to his full height, the Patriarch adopted a two-handed grip on his lightsaber and seemed to wait for the Sith to make the first move, but Zandro wasn’t quite ready to begin the inevitable endgame, opting instead to try some of Sashar’s customary smack talk on for size.

“Remember Kamino vod? I’m noticing some very strong parallels between then and now, not the least being that you hold the upper hand here. I wonder how this story will finish though; let’s see if you finally get a chance to re-write that ending.”

Bringing his lightsaber up in a dualist’s salute, Zandro began to sprint forward as he adopted a two-handed grip on his crimson-bladed weapon, roaring a battle cry as he charged in for what would most likely be the final flurrying fight of the contest.

“Arcona Invicta!”

With that, the Consul struck.

The Erinos Patriarch had to fight down a wave of giddy excitement as his brother rushed him. This was it. This was what he’d been looking for; a challenge worthy of his skills, a venue befitting the combatants, an emotional stake in the outcome…it was all here. The sun was just dipping below the mountains that ringed the island of Estle tens of kilometres away and despite that, the clouds overhead still rained down a miniature monsoon of rain and swirling, tempestuous winds. The sun’s red and white light cast a dystopic brown glow over everything it touched, making the dark gun-metal of the Citadel’s surface veritably shine beneath their feet. All about them, Drexls shot to and fro, intent on tearing one another to shreds. They ignored their rescuers as red met amber and the brothers struggled to win out a lock.

Sashar’s ayumarka gaze locked with Zandro’s one remaining eye and he felt the edges of his vision start to splinter into blackness[BLK]. Moments later, his vision had failed him. He instinctively backed up, keeping his saber between him and his brother, but the Consul knew it would be futile. Net’ra gal was true to its name; he felt a blow to his sternum and one to the side of his head which left him on his back, his head reeling. Moments later, his vision cleared up and Sashar was about ten paces away, his eyelids heavy, his gaze languid, lethargic, almost drowsy.

Spast. He’s entered the Mighty Guard. These next few minutes are going to be tricky…however, if he’s committed that much of his Force reserves to defence, it means I won’t be seeing his Wraiths anytime soon. Saber to saber, he’s as good as me…and I might even have the edge. The trick is not to let him get a rhythm.

Zandro had sparred against his brother literally thousands and thousands of times over the years. Sashar had taught him how to wield the Jedi’s fabled weapon, and he’d been an avid learner. They’d developed techniques together which complemented their chosen styles and each one was a master of their forms. It was a struggle to remind himself that this time would be like every single other time they’d duelled. Neither was going to die, and most importantly of all; he could take Sashar occasionally. Glaring balefully, he jutted his left hand out at the older Mandalorian, intent on blasting him telekinetically [OBL].

Sashar leant to the side, his speed freakishly fast – it made Timeros look sluggish [MSS] – and the blow sailed past, winging a passing Drexl. Snarling in frustration, Zandro charged at his brother, swinging high and wide. Fraternity moved up and tapped the blade away almost effortlessly, and a heavy fist landed on the Consul’s chest, forcing the air from his lungs. The younger Erinos was expecting it, though, and managed to negate much of the strength from the blow by bolstering his own physical resilience temporarily [EHA]. He kept up his attack, by furiously interchanging his stabs, slashes and feints as only a true master of the forbidden form could, and with a shout of triumph, saw the Mighty Guard shake.

Sashar backed up a pace, his eyes momentarily widening in shock, but Zandro kept pushing, fuelling his own onslaught with the Force [EQS], then when the Mandalorian Elder backed up another pair of paces, the Consul screamed [SFS]. The preternatural sound fell on deaf ears for Sashar, who was able to block its more visceral effects with the Force [DEF], but then he was never aiming for Sashar.

The Drexls were driven into a frenzy at the sound. Disorientated and enraged they started dropping from the sky, their sense of ‘up’ completely destroyed. One in particular hurtled down at the Mandalorians. Sashar backflipped, landing in a crouch on the thick stone rail. The beast fell where he’d just stood, and the Elder glared balefully over it at his brother, who further enhanced his speed and used the creature’s corpse as a spring-board – a classic braver[BOS].

Left with no other alternative, Sashar threw himself backwards off the edge of the Citadel’s roof.

Wait, what?

Zandro landed in a crouch, utterly baffled. There was a blur of motion to his right and he glanced about, mouth agape. Sashar swung around, a black tendril wrapped around his right wrist, his parabolic bringing him high in the air before landing atop the deceased Drexl, grinning wickedly [AFW][AFW]. The runt’s tongue retracted, the Wraith obviously having positioned itself just below the lip of the Citadel’s roof.

“You’re kidding me. You can summon Wraiths whilst in the Mighty Guard?”

“No, vod’ika. I never entered the Guard. I just boosted my speed. No horrifically debilitating Obelisk powers which make me a temporary god of swordplay. Nothing too flashy – I simply summoned the Runt when I hit you with Net’ra Gal. You’ll remember I never hit you with the Force during that attack – just physical blows. By the way, duck.”

A lifetime of training gave Zandro time enough to not look for fowl and hit the floor just as Sashar’s Force Wraith named the Bat swept down, crying eerily. It passed over him, circled wide around and came in for another attack. The Consul shouted out in anger, jutting his hand at the inhuman beast [STK]. The Wraith evaded the attack and came in at his face, but the younger Erinos rolled to one side and it missed. Rather than fly into Sashar and send them both sprawling, it simply made itself ephemeral and passed through the Elder, who had backed up and was busy summoning another pair of Wraiths [AFW][AFW].

Swearing viciously, Zandro hopped up into a crouch, brandishing his saber, scanning the skies for his assailant. Either side of Sashar, twin balls of dark Force energy were coalescing into his other wraiths – suddenly, the Consul was massively outnumbered.

Fierfek! I was hoping he wouldn’t be able to bring out more than one of these di’kutla things! How am I going to take on three?!

Momentary warning from the Force allowed the Consul to roll to safety[PCG] as the Bat made another pass. Zandro had had enough. Energising his blade with electricity[SHK], he followed the Bat’s progress through the storm, glad that the sun had finally set behind the mountains, and brought the red, sparking blade up as if he were swinging a bat. Sure enough, the avian creature swept down, its claws going for his face. Zandro swung and cut cleanly through the creature’s midsection. It howled and died, fading back into oblivion.

The Consul smirked and turned around just in time to have his heart sink. Wrapped around Sashar like a protective cloak was the Ox, its tentacles writhing and twisting unnaturally. Its bovine face peered over the Mandalorian’s right shoulder, breath snorting from its nostrils. Crouched on all fours at Sashar’s feet was the Hunter. It snarled and snapped its teeth threateningly.

His quintessential attack and defence wraiths. Keeping things simple, are we?

The battle had reached its climax and Zandro was sick of all this misdirection and marionetting. He just wanted to hit something, but in order to do that, his brother’s wraiths had to go. There was no way he’d be able to take on both of the Wraiths whilst fighting Sashar as well. Slice, just trying to fight him saber to saber was taxing enough. It was time to draw on his own trump card[AFW].

Zandro grinned to himself, pouring more and more of his Force potential into the rent in reality that was appearing above the heads of the combatants. A dark mass of teeth, easily the size of the LAAT/i emerged, followed by concentric layers upon layers of teeth, like a lamprey. Finally, the mouth revealed itself to be the head of a huge undulating worm. It was as wide across as Zandro was tall, and didn’t seem to have any eyes or ears, but that didn’t stop it making a beeline for the Hunter. The ‘Pit Wyrm’ lashed out savagely, like a snake striking, and Sashar’s smaller wraith only just avoided getting caught. Still only halfway through the shimmering blight on oblivion, the Wyrm struck again and again, forcing the Hunter further and further away from Sashar. Finally, the Wyrm caught one of the Hunter’s legs in its concentring rings of teeth. The Wraith yelped out in alarm and pain, but another ring attached itself, then another, and another, until the entire creature was devoured.

The Consul only used one Force Wraith, but when he did, it was drastically potent. Sashar frowned at the loss of two of his summons, and tilted his head slightly. The Ox shot over his shoulder, leaping at the Wyrm’s side. Zandro tried to twist The Pit Wyrm and catch the Wraith mid-jump, but it was too fast. Adhering itself to the Wyrm’s side, it gored at the huge demon with its horns.

Summoning the last of his Force reserves, The Consul blasted the Ox off his Wraith, sending the creature back into the Hell from which it had been called [OBL].

That’s it. Only the Runt left, then I’ve got him.

“Surrender, ner’vod, you’ve lost. Again.”

Sashar chuckled and pointed up with the tip of his lightsaber.

Zandro looked up.

The Drexl Wraith (still in play from when Sashar had used it as a mount earlier) hurtled down, through the rain and the wind and the remaining beasts, landing heavily on top of the Pit Wyrm. The longer creature howled in protest and tried to twist its mouths around to grasp one of the Drexl’s wings, but the Wraith was too close to its head. A surge of flapped wings dragged the Wyrm further and further out of the rent in reality, tearing at the creature. With a final titanic roar, the Drexl yanked the Wyrm free. It swung around, letting black gore pour over the two combatants and flung the Wyrm’s corpse down to the courtyard far, far below.

Zandro was stunned into stillness. He’d never seen such a ferocious use of Wraith-on-wraith. He almost didn’t notice when the Runt’s tongue wrapped about his neck. Jumping in surprise, the Consul’s hand went to his neck to try and free himself from its hold, but he knew it was useless. There was a blur of pseudomotion, then his stomach was on fire. Sashar was pressed against him, Fraternity buried in his brother’s midsection, mercifully missing any vital organs.

“Farewell.” Sashar whispered into the Consul’s ear before dragging his saber out and letting his former apprentice slump to the floor, unconscious but alive. Barely.

The sound of clashing blades cut through the wind and rain as the two Arconae collided, red meeting orange in a shower of sparks. The two half-brothers had fought countless times before, sparring with each other to the point where they knew each other’s techniques inside and out, and yet somehow this fight felt different somehow. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was the stakes or maybe it was just the knowledge that this time both fighters would be putting everything into it.

Either way, I have to be at my best to even stand a chance here; Sashar is better than me even if I don’t want to admit it.

The saber lock was brief but telling with both participants amplifying their strength to try and win the miniature pushing war; the elder Erinos’ superior control of the Force allowing him to divert more power to the muscles in his arms as he forced the lightsabers towards Zandro’s face [EHA][RAG]. A flashback burst fully formed into Zandro’s mind and caused him a momentary spike of fear to manifest itself. He recalled a similar saber lock he had been in before, the one where an enemy Equite had destroyed the Arconae’s left eye before being cut down by the Sith. The fear made Zandro act; a low kick to his opponent’s shin giving him just enough breathing room to dance back away from the Adept’s weapon. The former Consul was nothing if not relentless however and, fuelled by the effects of the Force move he had used during the saber lock, the Obelisk closed the gap and threw out an attack of his own. Zandro batted the surprisingly lacklustre attack aside easily before utilising his superior dexterity to try an overly flashy and relatively useless snap kick to Sashar’s groin. Ethereal whispers from the Force alerted the Consul to danger even as his opponent dropped below the kick, slid to the left and brought his right fist around in a vicious punch that would have shattered the Warlord’s jaw had he not erected a hasty barrier in the way of the strike [PCG][BAR]. The defensive move proved to have another benefit; Sashar’s strike hitting the barrier had an effect similar to punching a brick wall, and the bones in his hand shattered upon impact. A yelp of pain was all that escaped Sashar’s lips but it was enough to alert Zandro to his momentary chance.

Can’t let him stop long enough to heal that hand.

This time, it was Sashar’s turn to retreat and Zandro’s to advance, his blade a whirling miasma of crimson as the speedy Warlord sent out attack after attack that the more robust Obelisk worked hard to turn aside. The Adept was adapting admirably to the temporary loss of his right hand, but even Sashar, as skilled with a saber as he was, was finding it a struggle to defend with his normal finesse without the use of his dominant hand. Zandro was in his element however, blood racing through his veins as he showered his half-brother with strike after strike, testing the elder Erinos’ defences with probing stabs and sweeping blows. After a particularly vicious overhead strike being dodged at the last possible second by the Obelisk, Zandro took a step back to take a moment to regain his breath after the relentless assault he had thrown at the other man. The Warlord had noticed that Sashar had seemed even more distracted than he should be if it were just his hand keeping him from fighting to his full potential, and now that he paid more attention to his opponent’s injured appendage, he saw that the bones seemed to have knit back together and the wound was healed up [HEA].

“You arse; that’s my plan screwed.”

Sashar’s lip curled up into a grin as he nodded his head towards something behind Zandro. Curious, the Warlord turned around only to come face to face with one of Sashar’s Force Wraiths.

“You didn’t banish it did you, you hid it up there with the rest of the Drexls so that I wouldn’t notice it until you got it into position. Exactly what I would have done.”

“As you can see ner’vod, you’ve lost here.”

Turning back to Sashar, Zandro allowed a grin to slip onto his face as he mimicked his brother’s earlier motion and nodded at something behind his opponent [ILL].

“I don’t think you quite get my meaning there dear brother, try again.”

Sashar turned around to see the Pit Wyrm looming over him, Zandro’s only Wraith eerily silent as the rain beat down upon their arena. Sashar acted with surprising speed, leaping to the side and lashing out with a telekinetic blast intended to blow the Wraith back into the ether, the power of the strike surprising even Zandro who had thought that he had known the full extent of Sashar’s power [MSS][OBL]. The Obelisk’s strike sailed invisibly towards the Wraith that he faced, only to pass through the creature as the illusion that Zandro had placed on his half-brother shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving the Adept facing nothing but air. A feeling of foreboding descended on the Erinos Patriarch and he wheeled around just in time to witness his younger brother literally shouting the Drexl to oblivion [SFS]. Screeching in pain, the Drexl flailed around desperately and Zandro put it out of its misery with a well-placed telekinetic strike, banishing the creature to the ether and returning the fight to a one-on-one battle once more. Meanwhile, Sashar was dealing with the consequences of being partially hit by Zandro’s sonic attack, vomit hitting the floor as the Adept tried to banish the spinning in his head. Such were the debilitating effects of the attack that the elder Erinos almost missed his brother’s charge, the Consul closing the gap between the two with impressive speed. A high blow was blocked by the orange blade of Fraternity before the Obelisk side-stepped a stab to the mid-section before lashing out with sweeping strike of his own which the Sith Warlord lightly jumped over. This, it turned out, was a mistake as Sashar struck with the Force, a blow through the Force which drove the wind from the Consul’s lungs and broke several ribs [OBL]. Zandro landed heavily and skidded across the slick surface of the roof, pain bursting from the point of impact even as he watched Sashar approach and bring his saber to point at the bridge of the Sith’s nose.

“Yield.”

A wordless roar of rage split the Warlord’s lips as anger swept through his mind like a red mist. Sashar’s blade didn’t waver as Zandro shouted himself hoarse, finally stopping and slumping back, the rain lashing his face as the Sith breathed heavily. Sashar had an odd look on his face as he disengaged his lightsaber and offered a hand to his brother, helping the shorter Erinos to his feet before speaking to him.

“You lost, but you fought well and almost had me; there’s no reason to get wound up.”

Turning to his former mentor, Zandro’s remaining eye burned fiercely as he placed his arm protectively over his injured torso, his tone as full of anger as his eyes.

“The day I take a loss without being angry is the day I die.”

A smile slipped onto his lips as his anger abated, nodding towards the only exit from the roof short of jumping off the side.

“Come on, I need a medic and you need a wardrobe change, you’ve got vomit on yourself.”

Sashar – Post 1

To explore the relationship of the two combatants in the opening paragraph is pretty basic, and yet still effective, ACC’ing. The difference here though, is the fact that you have used not only their relationship as characters, but also their relationship as adversaries in the arena. The two opening paragraphs are exemplary as scene-setting and establishing character depth. Nice work.

Bearing in mind the location of this particular fight, it makes sense to establish the surroundings early on in the post. Although you have clearly exhibited the arena in your 7th Paragraph, I feel it may have been better to include it earlier, if only to get a real feel for the murky, putrid bestiary. It would have added a bit more atmosphere to your writing, but saying that, it is not necessarily a major issue, just one I thought I should address.

“Sashar’s old lightsaber, named to signify the bond he felt with all of his brothers in the Erinos family had been destroyed on the battlefield outside of the old Citadel during the Yuuzhan Vong invasion by none other than Zandro himself during their last encounter.” – There should be a comma after ‘family’ and before ‘had’.

“Sashar had since kept it in reserve. It appeared that he’d kept it in reserve for Zandro.” – Repetition is usually an effective tool to emphasise a particular point. I can see what you’re doing here, but it doesn’t seem to read well, perhaps the inclusion of a dash or a semi-colon to join the two sentences may have been more effective.

“It was a poor choice of arena, in Sashar’s opinion.” – Sorry to disappoint

“…they warranted at least a half-decent arena in which to due-” – This works well as a cut-off point; I think your decision to initiate the fight after this sentence works well, even if it is a simple technique.

The following paragraph is a technically sound piece of combat writing; I like the way you have incorporated aspects of the fight with the surroundings. It is much more effective than a block of description followed by a block of combat writing. I also find it amusing that the mighty Sashar can be distracted by rain.

“Sensing the tension from the fight, the Drexls became uneasy in their corrals and began to growl and roar, almost as if egging the two brothers on.” – Nice touch. Good to see the development of atmosphere.

“…defensive saberplay like rain on a window.” – Nice simile. Good job.

“So sudden was the change, and given that the two brothers were a mere pair of meters apart that he had almost no time to hop back a couple of paces.” – This sentence doesn’t make sense. You’ve used ‘he’ after ‘two brothers’, without establishing which brother had ‘almost no time to hop back’. Similarly, the tempo of the sentence doesn’t quite strike the mark.

“Before the Consul could formulate a suitably pithy retort, the Elder leapt backwards, and threw himself out of the breach into the sky. Gaping, Zandro ran over to the lip of the precipice and goggled at what he saw.” – Brilliant use of the terrain. A definition for the term ‘thinking outside the box’ if I ever saw one. Nice work.
The last couple of paragraphs really throw this post into a realm of its own. Taking the fight outside of the bestiary and into the skies shows real ingenuity and, above all else, adds a new dimension to the fight. This, coupled with the well-written prose, exemplifies a brilliant end to a first post.

Overall, this post started off with a few errors, however, that is just it: I had to try hard to pick up on the errors and the use of the scenery, the establishment of atmosphere and the description really set the fight up for an interesting turn of events. Nice work.

Zandro – Post 1

Inner monologue, nice touch, JD.

“…Zandro ignored his half-brother for a moment as he surveyed the scene around him; Drexl’s barrelling around and fighting amongst each other…” – The imagery in this sentence is brilliant. The one thing that lets it down is the use of the semi-colon. I don’t think the second half of the sentence could stand as a sentence in itself, and it is for that reason that the semi-colon is wrongly positioned. This is a minor glitch in the prose, though. I, for one, am not one to correct on semi-colon use, but I thought it was a necessary point to rise. Saying that, I love the description, nice work.

“Fly me closer, I want to hit him with my sword.” – I can’t fault you for being direct.

Nice inclusion of humour and an admirable touch of misfortune. Plans can, and do, fall through and I think that has been established in your description of the wayward Drexl. Nice work.

The following paragraph works nicely. I like the development of atmosphere and the continued imagery of the unruly Drexl. The one issue I notice with it is that it doesn’t develop the fight. A few slashes here and there, but nothing to really pull the reader into the intensity of battle. In a novel, or short story, it would work well, but with a limited combat-writing post, I think it is a little overbearing.

Another change of scenery and another change of tempo. I like the way this fight progresses. Nice work. Also, good job on continuing the humour. It’s a humble touch, but it works.

“…dualist’s salute…” – I don’t quite get whether you mean a ‘duellist’s salute’, or some form of ambidextrous salute here

Overall, I like the way this post flows. It is, by all intents and purposes, a solid second post and it progresses the battle, developing on the major twist added by Sashar. The only real issue is that there wasn’t much to call ‘combat’ in the post. Saying that, however, it works well in its own right as an enterprising, and ultimately scene-setting piece. It certainly reads well and it brings a smile to the face of the reader. Good job.

Sashar – Deathpost

This opening paragraph is fantastic. Really sets the scene and the descriptions and imagery give it a very ‘calm before the storm’ feel. Good job.

I like the progression of the fight, it is very methodical and it really appeals to the reader. Especially the use of Force powers to add different dimensions to the fight. Nice work.

The use of Obliterate on a Drexl is not one I’ve heard before, but it is certainly effective. Again, great use of the surroundings in the post. I can tell you spent a little more time writing this one that you did the previous post.

“…glared balefully …” there’s a lot of baleful glaring going on in this fight. Again, the repetition is a good addition, but this comes across as sloppy to the reader.

As we come to the runt/bat’s appearance in the fight, I can’t help but think that, for an individual with 17/26 in their force pool, Sashar may be reaching a point of Force exhaustion soon. It does quote in the CS Attributes section of the ACC rules that: “A character possessing this level of Force Pool may use powers below their rank nearly at will (though excessive uses of the Force may still tap them out)…” This does suggest that the Force connection Sashar would have is exceedingly strong, but the type of force connection one would need to develop Wraiths from ethereal to material beings capable of bearing weight, such as the Drexl in the previous post, or the ability for the Runt to guide Sashar back to a smooth landing would require considerable concentration. This coupled with the fact that both posts have been punctuated by Equite-level force powers leads me to think that this is slightly beyond Sashar’s capabilities. This point is further developed with the summoning of two further wraiths.

All things considered, the imagery of Wraith versus Wraith is interesting. I like how it pans out. Nice job.

Overall, this was a nice deathpost. I would have liked to have written more, but the post was well-written and exceedingly executed. As mentioned previously, my only real issue was that of the seemingly limitless pool of Force Sashar seems to be able to dip into, especially to summon four wraiths, use Equite-level attacks and sustain the connection to the Drexl. Saying that, this was a fantastic post and one that was engaging, exciting and almost ever-changing. This sort of battle is one that is just as much about ‘fraternity’ (not the lightsaber) and family as combat itself, and you managed to address both beautifully, whilst setting a brilliant scene and using your surroundings to your advantage. It is noticeable how much effort you have put into this post. Nice work.

Zandro – Deathpost

“…and yet somehow this fight felt different somehow.” – This repetition fragments the brilliant sentence preceding it. Although I can see and point out the mistake, others may not be so appreciative of the sentence leading up to it.

“He recalled a similar saber lock he had been in before, the one where an enemy Equite had destroyed the Arconae’s left eye before being cut down by the Sith.” – Great reference to character history – nice work.

“…utilising his superior dexterity to try an overly…” – someone’s been reading the character sheets. Nice work in weighing up Zandro’s strengths and Sashar’s weaknesses.

“…Warlord’s jaw had he not erected a hasty barrier in the way of the strike [PCG][BAR].” – Original form of defence. I like it.

“The defensive move proved to have another benefit; Sashar’s strike hitting the barrier had an effect similar to punching a brick wall, and the bones in his hand shattered upon impact. A yelp of pain was all that escaped Sashar’s lips but it was enough to alert Zandro to his momentary chance.” – This is a nice twist to the battle – good job.

“…his blade a whirling miasma of crimson as the speedy Warlord sent out attack after attack that the more robust Obelisk worked hard to turn aside.” – I don’t think miasma was quite the right word to use here, it just doesn’t seem to fit.

“The Adept was adapting admirably to the temporary loss of his right hand, but even Sashar, as skilled with a saber as he was, was finding it a struggle to defend with his normal finesse without the use of his dominant hand.” – Unfortunately this comes under the category of continuity. Sashar’s dominant hand is, in fact, his left.

“The Warlord had noticed that Sashar had seemed even more distracted than he should be if it were just his hand keeping him from fighting to his full potential, and now that he paid more attention to his opponent’s injured appendage, he saw that the bones seemed to have knit back together and the wound was healed up [HEA].” – This is a nice continuation of the earlier inner monologue: “Can’t let him stop long enough to heal that hand.”

“Sashar turned around to see the Pit Wyrm looming over him, Zandro’s only Wraith eerily silent as the rain beat down upon their arena. Sashar acted with surprising speed, leaping to the side and lashing out with a telekinetic blast intended to blow the Wraith back into the ether, the power of the strike surprising even Zandro who had thought that he had known the full extent of Sashar’s power [MSS][OBL]. The Obelisk’s strike sailed invisibly towards the Wraith that he faced, only to pass through the creature as the illusion that Zandro had placed on his half-brother shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving the Adept facing nothing but air.” – Sorry for the extra-long quotation, but this really is a fantastic piece of combat writing. Nice work.

“A feeling of foreboding descended on the Erinos Patriarch and he wheeled around just in time to witness his younger brother literally shouting the Drexl to oblivion [SFS].” – This is a bit too close to Sashar’s post for comfort.

“…Zandro’s sonic attack, vomit hitting the floor as the Adept tried to banish the spinning in his head.” – I was going to say nice imagery, but I don’t think ‘nice’ quite appeals to the nature of this quotation.

“Come on, I need a medic and you need a wardrobe change, you’ve got vomit on yourself.” – absolutely love it.

Overall, this was a great deapthpost. The larger paragraph towards the end was full of excitement and twists that had, up until this point in the fight, been few and far between. It was a brilliant use of the force and a fantastic piece of ingenuity to come up with such a post. The only things that let this post down is the continuity error of Sashar’s hand, and the somewhat slower pace that your post had towards the start. Taking this into account, though, the way this post was written and the details you have included are fantastic – a real testament to your skill as a writer. Well done.

Judgement

This was a tough decision to make. This fight has presented some fantastic twists, some excellent imagery, humour and brilliant prose. All the things that appeal to the reader seem to be in abundance in this particular encounter.

Sashar, your posts were fluidly written and your ability to not only describe the surroundings well, but use them to your advantage is admirable to say the least. You really captured the essence of the fight between two brothers and you seemed to let the battle flow through your writing, rather than forcing twists, plot changes appeared natural rather than imposed. The only issue I seemed to have was the one mentioned in your deathpost; to use so much force would undoubtedly debilitate Sashar and this is something that brings the fight down in terms of technical prowess. Your structure, prose and description, however, were spot on.

Zandro, your use of humour and your similar ability to really let the plot develop, rather than pushing it in a certain direction really prevails and it shows how well you can both write when pushed. You are both seasoned veterans in the ACC and it really does show. The friendly banter Zandro seems to express to Sashar brought the mood from a slightly sombre note to something more family oriented, which was something I was thankful for. Your descriptions, use of imagery and your general composition of the posts were sound, but the one thing that let you down was the continuity with the hand, and the small issues with repetition and misplaced words. I know it sounds pedantic (and it is), but I had to find something to offer advice on.

Unfortunately, Zandro, it is for these reasons, and the fact that Sashar seemed to spend a little more time refining his post, that I am forced to award Sashar Erinos Arconae with the win. Its not something I wish to do again any time soon, but well done guys. As you both know, there has to be one winner, and as much as I’d have liked to pick both of you, it just wasn’t possible.

Both combatants really showed their worth. Well done guys, you made this an exciting battle to read, and a hard one to judge.

In Darkness,

Wuntila Zratian Entar,
Proconsul of Clan Arcona.