Despite being on the first level of the Citadel, the massive courtyard remains hidden behind towering walls of stone and sediment. An elongated central patch of neatly trimmed grass stretches out for almost fifty-meters while maintaining a twenty-meter width. At the center of the grass is a large, ovular fountain in the shape of the Arcona emblem, with water running from the tips of each pointed edge. Vegetation grows along some of the walls, and an archaic clock-face is carved into the face of one of the entryways. A small group of rotating sharpshooters are scattered across the walls as the courtyard is supposed to serve as a safe place for Arconans to enjoy some quiet time, or to meet with visitors. It has served as the venue for multiple honor-duels over time, and there is a significant crater off to the side of the grass left behind as a result of a contest between Marick Arconae and Wuntila Arconae. The duel had taken place prior to either Arconae serving as Shadow Lords and in a quieter time before all Arcona knew was warfare.

As you walk towards the back of the courtyard, closer to the base of the cliff that the Citadel is constructed upon, a tall tree shoots up from the stone, its shade guarding an entrance into the Citadel proper.

Darkblade walked aimlessly around the Arconan Citadel, seemingly unaware of the Priest following him at a distance. The albino moved slowly as he followed his fellow crew member, making sure each step remained silent and undetectable. Sight felt anger as he watched the Arkanian. The Guardian had sided against their Captain and the AGV Nighthawk, though the Human did not fault the Journeyman for this choice. Personal feelings aside, the Priest could not let the Arkanian traitor go unpunished. Sight waited until Darkblade had reached the courtyard before he made his move.

Darkblade had traversed to the middle of the open grass in the courtyard when he found himself flung forward from a pressure against his back.

“Guardian Darkblade, for betraying the Nighthawk and Captain Cortel by siding with the Quaestors you have marked yourself a traitor. Although I can not find you personally responsible for your decision based upon your short time with us, I can not ignore the facts. You must pay for your crimes against your brothers in arms with the only price a traitor can pay, his life,” Sight’s voice echoed across the courtyard, his tone one of command.

“How am I a traitor when your side is in the wrong? Your side broke away fro-” the Arkanian was cut off mid sentence as the wind was pushed from his lungs, and landed on his back several meters from where he had been standing. Darkblade already felt bruises forming on his chest from the unexpected telekinetic blast.

A crooked smile formed on the albino’s porcelain face, he would enjoy this. Sight casually strode the fifty meters toward the Guardian as he returned to his feet, training saber in hand. As the Priest closed the remaining distance he unclipped his own lightsaber leaving it deactivated and concealed underneath his grey cloak.

“You realize that is worthless,” the Priest stated as the Inquisitor rushed in and swung his blade. In a single fluid motion, Sight ignited his own yellow blade, blocking the attack. The blade of the training saber sputtered and then failed as the weapon shorted out upon contact with a real lightsaber. Sight continued his stroke, bringing his arm fully across his body, then stepping forward as he quickly slammed his elbow into the Guardians nose.

The Arkanian staggered backward a step, the training saber falling to the ground. Clutching his nose with one hand while the other unsheathed his knife and swung wildly with it. The Priest easily avoided the short blade wielded by an obviously untrained user. Deactivating his saber as he grabbed Darkblade’s knife arm at the wrist, Sight slammed the sabers pummel against the fingers still clutching the Guardian’s injured nose.

The air began to distort around Sight’s free hand as he released the Inquisitors arm. As the Priest was about to release the point blank telekinetic blast an odd sensation flooded over him. He felt weaker in the Force, in Sight’s moment of confusion the Arkanian’s knife slashed across his forearm causing a shallow gash. Abandoning his attack it was now the Priest’s turn to back away from the confrontation, his lightsaber’s blade materializing as the wound healed itself.

Sight looked at the Guardian in a new light, the whelp had used a power that the older Krath was well aware of. The Human knew he just had to just wait a short time for the Force to return to him at full strength, and at that moment he would stop toying with the traitor.