In the distant past, the Catacombs of Cadera were a series of ancient structures located beneath the surface of the sacred moon of Jedha. Hidden within was a monastery, serving as a burial ground for an Order of NiJedha Monks. In the wake of tbe Death Star's attack, however, the moon's surface was sundered, all but annihilating the Catacombs and the monastery hidden within.

You have fallen into darkness. Deep below Jedha's devastated surface, you find yourself lost within the remnants of the Catacombs—only ruins now remain. As your eyes adjust, you realize only a few shafts of hazy, pale green light are all you have to see by. Every step, every breath you take echoes off of the cavern-like walls. You run a hand over a hand over one of the pillars adorning the ruins and feel the carved stone flake at your touch. That they still hold the ceiling in place above your head is a miracle.

You must tread cautiously. Taking careful steps forward, you feel the sickening crunch of skeletal remains beneath your feet. The hollow sound of shattering bones rings throughout the catacombs. Announcing your presence to whoever or whatever may reside here. The air is fetid and clouded with dust you stir up with every movement.

As you wander you realize these ruins are labyrinthine—a tangled maze of broken and collapsed tunnels crisscrossing haphazardly leading to who knows where. Each path you take is fraught with hazards or dead ends. From deep within the darkness, you begin to hear whispers—a constant buzzing in the back of your mind that quickly puts you on edge. The spirits of the dead slumber restlessly here. You must escape this place, but, before you can begin to search for an exit, you hear footsteps methodically moving toward you.

Tread lightly in the Ruins of Cadera... for you are not alone.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips as Azler continues his trek through the underground tunnels. Each step was unpleasant, not only for the sounds beneath his boots, but for the horrid stench that arose from it. When he had first arrived here, it was bad, yet he persevered, believing that eventually he would get used to it.

He so far had not.

Walking down the dark tunnels, he was hoping that the fight would start quickly so he could get out of here, but clearly his opponent was far more okay with this situation considering their lack of confrontation. He hadn’t read anything on the man beyond his name and affiliation when this duel was set up, though the option was there, he figured it’d be more interesting to go in blind, a better way to shake off the dust if he had to react to new information on the fly, but as it was, it was clear that the individual was fine with taking their time.

Another crunch accompanied another step, the dark giving nothing away yet. His body was a mixture of tenseness and looseness, on one hand frustrated by the situation, on the other, glad that his foe was in the same situation. His greatest hope relied on the fact that his decision to remain in the dark, guided mostly by a hand on the wall, meant he’d be able to see whatever method his foe was using for sight first. Probably.

Still, the unease bit at the back of his mind, too much time in the dark had a way of making one feel as though they weren’t alone, regardless of logic. Primal instinct refused to be ignored at a certain point, regardless of training, that was an unavoidable fact. He wasn’t very willing to listen to that voice, and that nearly cost him the fight before it even started as his instincts suddenly screamed in his mind, a flash in his mind of a strike to the back of his neck causing him to duck down, a passing current of air rushing past his silver hair a confirmation of why no one should ever completely block out that voice.

The Krath, in a crouched position, quickly spun to the attack from behind and thrust his own hand into the darkness, yet found no impact.

Blue eyes searched the darkness, straining for anything, red, blue, yellow, orange, something, any color to indicate where his enemy was, but there was no light in the darkness to catch his attention and confirm his foe’s location.

He was certain that the attack was real, the feeling of the miss was undeniable, the adrenaline flooding his system only made this more plausible, but the downside was also in effect, his eyes darting, his blood quickening, his breath deepening - animal instinct was beginning to encroach upon him. Normally this was fine, he thrived in it, but in this situation, with no clear attack route to take, it forced his concentration to split to hold back the fight or flight instincts attempting to overwhelm him.

Yet again, that sensation did aid him, but his attempt to hold it back slowed his response and this time the attempt was successful, a grunt of pain exiting his mouth as an open palm slammed into his chest just below his rib-cage, followed by a swift kick that sent him crashing into the dirt and calcium covered floor.

Coughing harshly, the man stood up quickly, raising his arms defensively for another attack, but nothing came. A few more hacks from his body, followed by deep focused breaths, then finally a frustrated huff of air.

Conceding that the darkness was giving him no advantage, one hand quickly lowered and pulled a hilt from his belt, the red blade flickering to life and illuminating his surroundings - including a man clinging to the wall with one hand as his body was poised towards the warrior’s form.

Noticing the warrior’s strange positioning, the way his body retained its light and loose composition, but more importantly the cloth wrapped around his head, Wilder pieced it together pretty quickly - a Shadow Step trained Miralluka.

”So, what’d you sign up for a fight for? Need to score some points for something or is this perhaps an ego thing, wanting to beat someone up in your natural habitat, maybe an empathy lesson, wanting others to experience how terrible a life in darkness is?” Inquires the warrior dryly, though a genuine tone of curiosity did ring through the sarcasm.