Breaching the Veil

[Leah Reach]

Delivering the Renegades, persuading the Guardians of the Whills, rescuing the faithful. What the Alliance and the Jedi Order accomplished was astounding. On such short notice, with unexpected results, together they persevered to free Jedha and the Holy City of the chains of the Dark Side. However, they were not finished yet. The Fanged Disciples remained, anchored to the hideous, withered temple they called home. But something else was afoot. The Jedi Master could feel it in each tremor of the earth, every breath of the air. She could sense it through each ripple in the Force. Energies of the Dark Side gathered. No, it was something more terrible than the Dark Side, and Leah feared for the worst.

Taking action, the Jedi was accompanied by several of her students. Castor Chume’da-Volante, a former Sith she plucked from Onderon and the reaches of the Dark Side. Since his defection and ascension into the Light, he proved to be not only a valuable asset to the Alliance but a close friend. There was also Fey Meraska, the girl she met on Kashyyyk. Although her growth with the Jedi came slowly, she was a promising and long-time student of Leah. She could not pass up the opportunity for continued experience on the field. Nevertheless, there was another: Horus Tempest. Another student of Master Luy, Leah recognized great potential in him. His connection to the Force was undeniable. She believed he may be instrumental to the coming battle.

Decked in her armor, weapons settled on her waist, lightsaber tight in her grip. The Jedi Master was ready. Ahead, the sanctuary of the Fanged Disciples loomed. Faceless statues stood before twisted pillars. Cracks and holes littered the cobblestone pavement leading into the temple. The courtyard was wide and expansive and cluttered with a congregation of armed, armored men. Blasters and swords, cowls and masks. They knew the Jedi were coming. How, Leah did not know, but she neither cared. One way or another, she was going to enter the temple. As she came to a halt a dozen meters from the flock, a brute of a man stepped forward. Beneath his mask, eyes burned into her own. She kept the stare before the man warned, “Turn back or die.”

Leah raised her chin. She imagined the three Jedi behind her shifted in preparation, waiting with anticipation. Her voice cut through the tension. “No.” Blue light burst from her lightsaber. The opposing men drifted towards them. The battle would begin.

@Nefieslab @TheMorrigan @Fey Aadedai

 

[Castor Chumeda Volante]

Jedha was exactly what Castor expected.

It was a mess.

The city had been lawless and the entire planet was seemingly teeming with people who were more than happy to allow a Dark Side cult to exist so long as it didn't effect their lives too much. He supposed he shouldn't be too hard on the locals but when the Jedi had to show up to save them, it was kind of hard not to feel like they had brought it on themselves with their repeated inaction against the cult and the other woes that had plagued the planet.

But it wasn't the place of a Jedi to judge others so he wasn't. He could recognize that this entire thing had escalated to this point because of the weakness of the locals but he refused to hold it against them. Instead he would continue to accept that what was done was done and all that mattered now was facing off against the evil that had taken root here.

Darkness was an old friend of his, an old lover that refused to fully leave him.

He knew it's stench and it lingered and clung to this place like oil lingering atop water. He strode forwards alongside his Master and two other Padawans, wearing his new armor. Castor had fashioned it during his down time and he had taken inspiration from the old Temple Guard Armor to do it. His shining, clean, mask stared right back across at the masked enemies who now came to confront them.

Castor felt the glass beads of Arda's bracelet pressing against his skin underneath his gauntlets as he drew his crossguard lightsaber. In solidarity with his Master, Castor took a step forwards, igniting his white lightsaber out in front of him as he gathered the Force to his free hand.

"You will have this chance last chance - surrender." he called out to their foes, offering them mercy even as they advanced. Seeing them not slow down in the slightest, he sighed slightly, "Very well. Make peace with the Force."

It would be the duty of the Jedi this day to make them join it.

@TheMorrigan @Fey Aadedai @Deviant

 

[Horus Tempest]

"Turn back or die."

"Alternatively, walk away or fail. Stand down or be swept aside."

Horus was clad in his standard rebel armor, atop which was his signature leather coat, which gently wisped in the wind. Clad at his side were his blaster pistol and second vibrosword, clanging alongside the coat to the rhythm of the wind's calming fury. Jedha was once said to be one of the many homes and havens of the Jedi Order, and even now those who believed in the Force but had little talent for its use gathered among the desolate wasteland to deliver prayers it's power. Praying for the return of the Light, and the return of balance. With him was Fey Meraska, one of his fellow Padawan among clan Bertgruffa. He was unsure if he pronounced that in his mind correctly, but cast the thought from his mind. With her stood Castor Volante, an ally with old ties to the Dark Side of the Force. His presence was like a whirlwind, not entirely calm but without malice. He had worked with them both in times past, this was no exception, and he knew together the path of victory would show the way. At their head was Jedi Master Leah Reach, the one who had been present during his Padawan Trials. Though his hope was one day to become a Knight, he fully expected her to be present during that time, and together all four would carve through these foes if that is what the Force willed.

"They're not backing down..."

His right hand already had a vibrosword clasped in its center, raised in a defensive pose in front of him. His right and left feet had already found their mark in a combat stance, one primarily known as Soresu, though in a moment's notice he could switch to the finer style of Makashi if it turned out they had long-range weapons. At this point, he had two lightsaber crystals but never had found the time to construct the sabers themselves, and perhaps should he survive this endeavor he would do just that. Honestly, he felt out of place without one, a Jedi in everything but the weapon. He watched as the men brandished their weapons and stood side by side, willing the Force to wrap around his left hand in preparation. This was going to be a fight, and he intended to win. He had learned his mistake in the trials, one he would never forget - the wielders of the Dark Side where living weapons. Unless he could knock them out completely, Horus was aware he would have to kill. The young Vahla did not want to kill, but he knew he would have little choice, and in circumstances where others were relying on his combat ability, he knew he had no chance to hesitate. He raised the blade and lowered it down in a salute, preparing for the inevitable.

@Deviant @Nefieslab @Fey Aadedai

 

[Leah Reach]

She glanced to Horus. “Neither are we.”

Her eyes narrowed. The enemy was a mob of bodies, robed or armored, steeled with blades or blasters. Most carried spiked clubs or ceremonial swords, not purely because of tradition but an instilled desire. The Jedi Master could see it in the eyes of every man indoctrinated by the cult. They wanted to draw blood, leave a mess, turn a quick death into some sadistic nightmare. Little did they know they faced the best of the Jedi Order and the worst of their enemy: the Light Side of the Force. As they descended upon them like wild vultures, Leah stood and waited. She waited until they made the first strike before she lashed out in turn. Needless to say, she didn’t have to wait long.

The slash aimed to tear open her chest. Right heel and shoulder sliding back, her body tilted to avoid it and the man behind the blow found no purchase. He stumbled forward, entire flank exposed, but rather than bisect him at the waist or impale him from behind, she struck the top edge of his sword. Its metal tip crashed into the ground and sparks flew. The Jedi finished the graceful parry with a push from the palm of her left hand. The Force burst forward, slammed into his ribcage and launched the man off his feet. They hit the ground and slid down before smacking into one of the nearest pillars. The move was a little overworked. Stylishly excessive. But it was enough to make the rest think twice. Not that it stopped them from continuing.

A pair of cultists looked to each other and nodded. A twofold attack. Challenging, but Leah always welcomed a challenge. Not a moment too soon, both attackers came at her. The first one opened with a wicked thrust to pierce her upper chest, which she effortlessly batted away with her lightsaber. The second man followed through with a slash against her flank, left vulnerable due to her parry, or so the man thought. With her superior speed and reflexes, her own blade bounced off that of her enemy and locked against the other, sparing her a deep wound across her lower back. While her feet were anchored to the ground, her body moved like a whirlwind, a complete blur. While she was able to fend off the cultist’s initial attacks, Leah knew she needed to act quick to avoid a serious blow.

She could not afford a prolonged dual against the pair. Not because she couldn’t handle it, but she feared the rest of the cultists might try to pull the same against the two young men accompanying her. They did not share in the same skill of the Jedi Master. Then again, she knew they were capable enough. They were Jedi, after all. There was a reason why she brought them in the first place. Now was the time for them to prove it.

@Nefieslab @TheMorrigan (sorry for taking so long)

 

[Castor Chumeda Volante]

Combat was something Castor knew.

Combat as a Jedi was something that he was still working on. Even if he was able to keep his emotions in check during combat, Castor had noticed that a lot of his combat experience was still of the Sith variety - which meant that he was still rather violent. Excessively violent some people could say.

Rather than letting his enemies come to him, Castor counter-charged and launched himself forwards, catching a club wielding man off guard enough to be able to grab hold of the man's weapon before he could swing it. Castor swung his lightsaber and cut the man in half at the waist, his lightsaber slicing through him like a hot knife through butter. The second attack came from the side at the same time someone attacked from his front.

The attacker from his side threw a spear at Castor - the Jedi raised his hand and diverted the spear into the side of the neck of the man attacking from his front. While the spear-thrower reeled in surprise, Castor took aim and threw his lightsaber, impaling the man clean through the skull with the glowing blade.

Now without a weapon, another attacker appeared and began attempting to stab Castor with his two knives. Trusting in the Force, Castor ducked, dodged and moved between the hits until he caught the wrist of the attack. Twisting it, he forced his enemy to drop one of his knives, catching it as it fell and stabbing in into the man's leg, just above the kneecap. With his enemy distracted by the pain, Castor easily took the man's other knife and grabbed his head with his free hand.

He cut the man's throat without a second's thought, without a second's hesitation and without any real emotion at all. Throughout his attacks, Castor was calm and slightly remorseful but resolute. They had given their enemies chances to surrender and now? Now they had proven that surrender would have been the smart choice.

@TheMorrigan @Deviant

 

[Horus Tempest]

So. This was it then. Then would not back down, and neither would his allies, therefore... the battle would commence. He watched as Leah and Castor immediately moved to engage some of the cultists, some in a straight duel and others through utilization of the Force. For his benefit, Horus stayed back and examined the situation as a whole, watching with a look of satisfaction as the enemy began to understand that numbers were not a saving grace in this scenario. He lowered his weapon slightly and chambered it at his side, stepping to the left twice, before noticing an enemy wielding a club. They winded up to strike and began to charge the blonde man, but with a deft step forward Horus placed himself in the way. He could almost feel the savage glee of the man as he brought the club down, but Horus sliced upwards in response - severing the arm that held the weapon before it could land a strike. Not pausing, even for a moment, the Vahla spun on his heels and delivered a kick to the abdomen, sending his opponent to the floor and careening his shoulder into yet another cultist.

"Thank you, next..."

He brought his weapon tight to his body and swung upwards and then back downwards almost instantly before his opponent had a chance to react to the shoulder blow. The torque allowed his weapon to gash into the small of the opponent's neck, his amber eyes widening as a knife slashed across his own wrist, drawing blood. He retreated for a second, leaving his sword in the opponent's neck, and looked over his own wound as the cultist collapsed in a heap of blood and a fit of coughing. Walking forwards, he went to retrieve his weapon, only to sidestep a slash that could have carved him in two. He didn't have a sword now, his secondary blade couldn't be drawn in time, so he did the only logical thing. His left hand caught his opponent's wrist and pulled down as his right fist cracked across the lower jaw. His right hand didn't stop there, instead of moving to join his left and gripping his opponent's hacking weapon and wrenching it from their grasp. Much as Leah had assumed, the opponent was not alone, and Horus could scarcely face two opponents at the same time. Not yet, his training was one thing but the experience was another.

"Huh... huh... damn..."

He began to step backward again, losing ground slowly, his opponent's weapon still in hand. The two cultists - one without a weapon, and one wielding a sickle - charged, trying to overwhelm him. He hurled the curved sword directly into the first one's head, stopping him dead in his tracks with a sickening crunch and churning of gore, only to receive a glancing blow across the leg that drew a minimal amount of blood. The second sickle strike he did not see coming, and it managed to nearly breach his defenses. Only by placing his hand in the way - and getting it impaled - did he save himself. Roaring, in pain, seeping crimson from the wound, he turned the left hand sideways through the agony and began to club the opponent with his free hand in the face repeatedly. Finally, he managed to break the opponent's neck, allowing them to slump to the ground. There he stood, a Vahla in brown, blood dripping from his wrist, a sickle impaled in his hand, and a single gash across his outer thigh. It was foolish to think he would emerge without wounds, but the sheer numbers he faced was enough to wear him down. And yet, he was still ready and willing to fight.

"Huh... Arggh... this... isn't going... as planned..."

@Nefieslab @Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

Leah acted quickly. Rebounding between two opposing blades, her lightsaber darted back and forth in a smear of blue light. Anyone watching would only see a flicker of her red hair, dancing through the air, as she battled furiously against the pair of cultists. One man tried to impale her again, which she met with another parry, but with an unexpected twist. Literally. Without the serious friction of an enemy lightsaber, she slid along the edge of the ceremonial weapon and angled it inward, the blazing tip facing the man. Sparks burst between them before the end of her saber burned into his shoulder. They cried out. Although the Jedi Master was more than welcome to continue, cut off his scream and level his head from his shoulders, she stopped there.

A part of it was because she never aimed to kill, but also because couldn’t waste time with a finishing strike when the other cultist was delivering an overarching slash down to her exposed shoulder. She might not have eyes behind her head, but she had the Force, and she knew enough to react. Her lightsaber jumped out of the other man’s shoulder the second it had dived in, essentially exiting out of his guard and rising straight into the air. Her body worked in tandem with the retreating blade and ducked, not purely to avoid the coming downward strike but to give her time to prevent it. Her lightsaber made a short arc upward, a spin of at least two hundred degrees. It narrowly passed the oncoming sword before stopping above her own shoulder. Before stopping the strike.

As the first cultist staggered into the ground clawing at his wound, the other looked at her with wide eyes, struggling to comprehend her reflexes. An obvious answer, as she was a Jedi Master, but an answer he wouldn’t hear. As his sword was locked at a tilt on top of her lightsaber, and its scorched tip was aimed toward his groin. Given the length of her saber, the end rested a few inches away, close enough to make the man sweat his balls off. Almost enough to make her burn them off too. As tempting as it was, she hadn’t the time, and due to the awkward and instinctive block, Leah needed to capitalize on his momentary lapse of judgment. So, lightsaber behind her back, she angled the blade toward his thigh instead and her fingers tightened on the hilt.

Suddenly, the edge extended from one meter to two, instantaneously piercing his upper leg. The perks of a dual phase lightsaber was simply magnificent. Of course, with the second cultist virtually down for the count, Leah pulled her blade out and flourished it into the air. She made sure to kick both men in the face for safe measure. But when she did, the Jedi Master noticed her two students fighting afar. Castor was doing beautifully, but her heart sank to see him so expressionless amid such wanton murder. Although it was not against the Jedi code to kill, especially in self-defense, Leah wondered what was going through his head as he did it. Being a former Sith, she had every right to worry. As for Horus, he worked just as well too, but she could see he had sustained several wounds.

“Hang in there! There’s not many lef—“ She was interrupted as a blaster bolt sailed right by her. Leah barely reacted in time but its plasma edge grazed into her upper arm. Burning pain followed. She gasped and stumbled back, eyes searching for the source. Ahead, she spotted an alien cultist sporting a grin after the hit, even if it failed to kill her. The Jedi Master locked eyes with them and the blaster in their hand. Cheap, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Leah knew how to deflect enough blasters to do the same here. Be that as it may, she was starting to get a little pissed.

@Nefieslab @TheMorrigan

 

[Castor Chumeda Volante]

As a Sith, Castor had never cared about his allies.

But he was no longer a Sith was he?

"Horus!" he called out as he dashed towards his ally, using the Force to retrieve his saber from the skull of a downed enemy, "On your right!"

Coming in from the right of the other Jedi, Castor threw himself forwards. Two of the cultists had been moving to attack Horus but Castor had bodily thrown himself in their path instead. Managing to knock aside the thrust of a spear with his saber, Castor grimaced as the second attacker changed his motion in mid-swing, slashing Castor across the lower back with his blade rather than attacking Horus.

Thankfully the sudden shift in movement robbed the swipe of a lot of it's force but it still cut across Castor's back, drawing blood from the man.

Grunting in pain, Castor spun around to face the man who had slashed at him but as he spun he drew his pistol, drawing it up as he came out of his spin. The man had enough time to widen his eyes before Castor pulled the trigger, blasting his brains out of the back of his skull with one shot. Pulling back, he dodged a spear thrust from the first attacker he had challenged.

Catching the spear between his main blade and crossguard blade, he trapped the cultist's main weapon before pulling it to the side and firing three times into the cultist's unprotected gut. The spearman slumped over and Castor took a slightly unsteady step back.

"Horus... are you alright?" he asked his fellow Jedi, "Do you need a hand with your wounds? I'm sure we have some kolto."

Castor might have been able to kill entirely without passion now but he had learned since leaving the Sith about caring for his allies even in the throes of battle.

@TheMorrigan @Deviant

 

[Horus Tempest]

-Music-​

Quite characteristically, Leah turned and observed him. In response, the Jedi Master called out to him and informed him to hold on for some time longer. Unlike his two allies, Horus was arguably the weakest in his connection to the Force and experience in battle. It was beginning to show. Though he had tenacity, it was perhaps one of the few things actually keeping the young Vahla alive, pure perseverance and taught skills. It wasn't a moment later when Castor began dealing with a duo of cultists who had taken to charging him from behind. Horus had begun to develop a deep respect for the former dark sider, and in truth, he was probably one of the few former Sith he could truly see himself openly standing beside no matter the odds or accusations. He could never forget losing his father and being marred as he was, but he had learned to forgive and move on, though in the human's case there was nothing to forgive, as he had done nothing wrong to him or his family. Horus kept his right hand ready and drew his second sword, deftly parrying a stray blow aside and impaling the cultist with a single thrust and twist. He began to move backward slowly.

"Don't worry - I should be fine!"

His eyes began to thin and become faint slits as his amber eyes rapidly moved from potential target to target. He watched as Leah managed to avoid being blasted by an alien. Gritting his teeth, Horus ducked beneath a swing and drove his left hand - sickle first - into the cultist, allowing the blade to tear out of his hand and rebound of the armor, landing on the ground. Despite the blood causing the pistol to slip in his grip, he grabbed his blaster and dropped to the floor, kicking the enemy over him. His blaster raised and shakily aimed towards the alien who was taking potshots at Eldrin Reach, the familiar weight of the weapon causing a satisfying sense of protection as he gently squeezed the trigger. The weapon jolted back slightly, the azure plasma crashing through the alien's chest and leaving a burn mark where a lung once had been. It collapsed, but the Vahla wasn't out of it yet, rolling back to his feet and bringing his sword to bear. Fighting near back to back, Horus heard the familiar sound of blaster fire from behind him and realized Castor must have been doing the same. He rotated the blade slightly and thrust forward, a quillion glanced a sword slash aside and ended the enemy on the attacking end with the business end of the blade.

"Yea... Yea. You should see the other guys."

True enough, Kolto would probably help him continue on, but the Vahla was more than used to this sort of punishment. His scars had steadily grown since he was a young boy, and through the blood that dripped from his hand would cause some annoyance on his left side, there was no point in stopping the fight now. He could continue, and more, he would continue to see this through, one way or another. Keeping his sword the sword close, he placed his left hand behind his back and settled into the traditional form of Makashi, ready to attack or defend at any given opportunity. They were winning, it was getting obvious the cultists couldn't sustain themselves against Jedi.

@Nefieslab @Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

They were working together. Jedi alongside Jedi, rebel beside rebel. Leah was filled with pride to see Castor and Horus move in tandem to eliminate the cultists as their bodies either littered the courtyard or retreated to a safer distance. They were claiming the foreground of the dark temple one inch at a time, but they were pushing through enough for Leah to swell with wonder and anticipation. If she wanted to break into the doors of the shrine and disrupt whatever malevolent ritual stirred behind it, she needed to act swiftly and without hesitation. Lightsaber flourished, she charged to the alien that came close to impaling her arm with a blaster bolt. Less stylish but still graceful, the Jedi Master was light on her feet from start to end of her approach.

The alien made several steps back, the pride from his last shot slipping away with each unsuccessful shot and every step forward the Jedi made. She was casting aside every attack from his light blaster, redirecting the bolts into the cobblestone path or ricocheting it against the aged pillars around them. For someone of her level and skill, defense was the least of her worries. Be that as it may, the closer she came, the harder it became. The cultist was firing rapidly, desperately now, in a wild attempt to ward her off. Her attention was divided between the wound in her arm, each individual bolt, and the two men on the opposite side of the courtyard. Enough that she failed to catch one shot and felt it scorch her chest plate. Her feet staggered an inch but she tanked the blow and pushed.

Thankfully, it was no serious burn, but it was a testament to the fact that Leah could not so simply carve up the cult like a piece of cake. She needed to exercise patience, control and caution. With that in mind, the Jedi Master would not make the same mistake. Especially with her in range, she took a sharp sidestep to dodge another bolt, raised her lightsaber high and cut into the muzzle of the enemy blaster. The blunt edge clattered to the ground. The alien was caught by surprise and cornered, leaving no chance to regroup or escape or counter an attack. An attack that came swiftly and deftly from the light blur of her saber. It chewed straight through their right forearm. In the wake of the strike was a charred stub and a wailing cultist. That would make them think twice about pulling shit like that.

Slowly emerging out of that pool of sympathy and mercy, Leah beat the alien aside and turned to find a new opponent. She was furious. Her arm stung and chest ached. She wanted to show these so-called Fang Disciples what a real Jedi could do, just as Castor and Horus did. As another cultist rushed her, blade locking into her own, Master Reach effortlessly slid her lightsaber under and left a shallow cut into their lower torso. Likely enough to kill but Leah was already swept up in the moment. She didn’t bother to care, no less when nobody else was or cared to look. When the man collapsed, she realized she had reached the steps into the temple. At last, she could finish it. Or so she believed until a masked stranger spun out of nowhere and kicked her square in the chest.

While her grip was tight on her lightsaber, Leah stumbled back down the courtyard stairs. A gasp escaped her lips, her chest heaved from the blow and the last shot. As she regained her balance and eyed her enemy, the Jedi flourished her lightsaber again. This time, furiously and ferociously. Mouth open, she taunted the surprise stranger as they revealed two short swords and beckoned her to try again. “If you want to play, we can play!” Lightsaber crying out for another fight, as much as Leah’s own battle cry, she charged at what she presumed to be the leader of the batch of cult guardians. Truly, it was going to make for an interesting duel. @Nefieslab @TheMorrigan

 

[Castor Chumeda Volante]

Horus wasn't doing as badly as Castor had expected and for that he was glad - it seemed that his ally was not going to be done in so easily. Likewise, their Master had taken a nasty hit and was now squaring off against someone who seemed to pose something more closely resembling a challenge than those before him.

Standing back to back with Horus, Castor paused as the remainder of the other cultists, four of them in total, approached them from all sides. Their armor was different, more extensive, and they seemed to have a variety of weapons now that he looked at them. Holding his lightsaber high at the ready, Castor too a deep breath as he looked at the two that were in front of him as the two in front of Horus would prepare to move inward.

The two he was facing had a glaive and a segmented weapon that Castor didn't really understand at all. He really hoped that it was just a pointlessly exotic weapon but he wasn't sure - these ones seemed to actually be rather well trained. The two facing Horus were more traditionally armed, with a glaive and a longsword.

Taking a deep breath, Castor centered himself.

"For the Jedi."

He didn't need to charge - the enemy rushed him. Castor drew the Force into his free hand as he counter-charged a short distance to make sure that the enemy didn't have all of the momentum. Using the Force, he batted the glaive to his left and swung his blade at the man with the segmented weapon, causing him to jump back to avoid the swinging blade - which Castor followed through on the swing with, cutting into the glaive-wielder's left knee, forcing him to the ground in pain.

Coming back with a downward swing at the other guard, Castor realized his mistake too late. The guard wrapped half of his segmented weapon around Castor's blade, trapping it in place. Castor had time enough for his eyes to widen before the guard was too close and brought down the free end to stab Castor in the heart. Pushing himself into movement, Castor avoided the lethal strike - instead the weapon stabbed cleanly into his right shoulder.

Castor roared in pain as the weapon cut and burned it's way into his dominant arm's shoulder and countered instinctively, hammering the attacker in the lower stomach with a savage blow from the Force that lifted the man off of his feet for a moment and compelled him to withdraw.

Grimacing, the Jedi backed up slightly as both guards he had harmed were now wary. His lightsaber felt heavy and leaden in his right hand and, with regret, Castor changed it to his left hand, giving up on his right arm as a lost cause for this fight. It was all he could do to use the Force to numb the pain now.

@Deviant @TheMorrigan

 

[Horus Tempest]

-Music-​

There they stood, enraptured in battle. Horus found himself back to back with Castor once again, as they began to win the day through the enemy, cutting them down one by one and two by two. It wasn't until his short conversation with Castor ended and they prepared for the continuum. As it seems, four cultists with more extensive armor and some nasty looking weapons stepped forward, causing Horus to sidestep and raise his sword in preparation. The two that turned to face him wielded a sword and a spear, weapons that he was more than used to fighting. It was foolish, in fact, to fight a duelist with those weapons. Of the two, the glaive would be the biggest issue due to its reach, the sword would hopefully be no problem at all. Inhaling and exhaling, he drew his blade up to full length and placed is adjacent with his nose in a salute, then swinging it back downwards to his left leg, swishing it up into a left long point guard.

"Trust me. You don't want to do this."

Castor charged, but Horus stood his ground, his eyes thinning. He could not use his left hand efficiently, so he was stuck using the sword in one hand, but unfortunately for his opponents, he was well versed in this style of combat as well. They charged together, with the glaive looking to impale and the swordsman attempting to slash across his right shoulder - the only one within logical reach. In a single motion, he brought his sword up to block the glaive and sent it downwards to collide with it's partnered weapon, shoulder bashing the glaive cultist aside and drawing the sword back into an ox stance before lunging into a stab. As expected, the enemy blocked it to the side deftly, countering with a swing of his own. The blades locked together for a moment before Horus scraped his own to the side and turned on his heels to deal with a cross slash from the glaive. The distance was becoming a real issue, but he wasn't concerned, blocking the strike aside. Now facing them both at the same time, he exchanged blows in rapid succession, from high to low and then back up again. Horus was beginning to lose ground, but he was managing to hold his own fairly well.

"What? Castor!"

He turned. That was a mistake, and he paid for it. Both weapons swung, and he only barely managed to bring his blade up to stop it before the weapon was sent flying from his palm and clattered to the ground with a thud. Confident of victory, they immediately lurched forward to finish the fight. But Horus, fighting through the pain and finding his own inner peace startled by a rush of adrenaline due to his friend's distress, he too moved forward. Avoiding the glaive, he caught near the front of the staff and pushed the bottom into the wielder's head, causing him to move back slightly, and twisted to block the second incoming slash. Now locked once again, Horus jumped and kicked with his leading foot directly into the enemy's chest, causing him to keel and release the glaive. Pirouetting away from another stab, he wheeled on his feet and hurled the glaive across the battlefield, nailing one of Castor's assailants in the leg, leaving a deep dent in the armor and a sickening crunch. It would hamper the enemy, likely making them unable to walk, but Horus could only regret not having the weapon go through fully.

Ducking beneath a follow-up slash, he closed the distance and placed his hands on both of his opponent's shoulders, wincing with the pain, and drove his knee directly into the small of his chest. Both where wearing armor, so the knee impact must have caused damage because the enemy started to collapse. He felt and heard the movement behind him, and his left leg shot outwards into yet another kick into the chest full force, causing a stagger. His arms closed around his opponent's neck and twisted into a spin, tossing the opponent and snapping his neck. Trained or not, Horus was frenzied on, he would not lose an ally and the sudden increase in combat ferocity showed it. He was now just facing one of them, without a weapon, but he was unconcerned. Unconcerned, and more than willing to kill.

This would end now.

@Deviant @Nefieslab

 

[Leah Reach]

Her enemy brandished two polished blades. Edges stained with red, eyes burning with deadpan fury, Leah could see the man was no ordinary guard. They relished in the fight. The Jedi didn’t need the Force to know she was dealing with someone of equal skill with a blade. Not that she was worried about what to do, because she knew exactly what needed to be done. Lightsaber at her side, Leah rushed the cultist. They stood in an offensive stance, a stark contrast to her own, but the Jedi was unfazed and unconcerned. Leah dueled for many years, as long as she could remember, the moment she constructed her saber. She believed her superior strength and experience in the Force would make this easy. She was wrong.

The cultist unexpectedly shifted his poise, a split second before Leah reached him, just as she committed to an attack. While she opened with a quick but shallow slash across his chest, he tilted his body to sidestep the strike but used both occupied hands to retaliate. With one, he pushed her lightsaber aside. His feet slid forward. With the other, he made a vicious jab aimed to impale the woman inches above her heart. Relying on instinct, Leah maneuvered evasively, desperate to escape the unpredictable attack. She was fast, but not fast enough. The thrust failed to pierce her upper chest but its scorching edge left a wide cut into her left shoulder. She cried out and instinct wrenched her away. Her enemy’s blade did the same but cackled as it slipped past her skin.

Leah staggered back. One hand pressed to the wound, and when she pulled away, her fingers were stained with blood. While the blow was mostly superficial, it had left the Jedi Master shaken. The cultists proved to be far more dangerous than she expected. How, she couldn’t say. There was no telling if a Sith Lord was behind this, but the only reports of a Sith presence was an exile hiding in the catacombs outside the city. Nothing more. Something else, something darker and more sinister, was in the works. Whatever it was, Leah was determined to find out. She would not lose courage because of one competent swordsman. The Jedi dealt with worse odds before.

Believing Leah was sluggish and unsteady, the cultist pushed on his advance. Step by step, she was forced back, farther from the stairs and the doors she was so driven to break down. Confidence grew in her enemy, ego rising, knowing they were about to defeat a Jedi Master. When the cultist parried her lightsaber, her arms dropped down to her legs and left her upper body open to a final blow. Her chest heaved, breath stifled. The cultist was going to kill her. Except, now, he was wrong. Luring the man to level ground and into a sense of superiority, Leah was able to present a case of weakness, and when her guard supposedly collapsed, she knew the man wouldn’t resist the bait.

As he delivered a powerful but sloppy strike to bisect her, the Jedi suddenly raised her lightsaber with a speed unseen before. Fueled by the Force, her right elbow shot upward at a clean slant, angling her lightsaber to catch his sword. Before he could use the other to attack, her blade slid across his, sailed straight off and right for his head. She felt the edge carve through his neck and level his shoulders. When she stepped away, Leah watched the head of the masked stranger drop to the pavement with a thud, alongside their body, revealing a clear path into the temple. Still, she paused, breathing hard, nearly overcome with adrenaline. She couldn’t give into hate or death. Not that resisting the temptation of the Dark Side would change the conflict within her.

In an effort to escape those thoughts, she spun around to see Horus and Castor and make sure they had taken down the last of the cultists. If not, Leah was prepared to intercede, but she trusted they could manage. They were not just any ordinary Jedi.

@Nefieslab @TheMorrigan

 

[Castor Chumeda Volante]

Castor was no stranger to pain as a former Sith - it was something he had been trained in dealing with since he was first accepted into the academy after all - but this was still a disadvantage. Thankfully he still had other advantages. When the guard with the segmented weapon moved to attack again, Castor didn't attack him directly.

Instead he seized the glaive of the other guard with the Force, impaling the guard from behind as he stepped forwards. The man stopped moving forwards, turning around in shock, pain and a growing sense of betrayal. Of course the other guard had no idea what was happening until it was too late and his weapon was poking the other between the ribs. The man with the segmented blade turned back to Castor quickly but all he was in time to see was Castor stabbing his lightsaber forwards.

Castor's blade impaled the man through the throat and out the back of his neck.

The final guard, already down on one knee from Castor's earlier attack on his knee, tried to recover his polearm but it was too late. Castor closed the distance and, with a swing of his blade, cut the man's head clean off. With the violence finished, Castor relaxed ever so slightly, still keeping a firm hand on his emotional response to the pain.

It was rather distracting to say the least.

"Did anyone bring any kolto?"

@Deviant @TheMorrigan