Combat Master’s Note: This venue was designed for use with the Unleashed Force power setting. However, unless both combatants agree, Force powers as listed in the description of the battle MUST be followed. If participants decide differently they must alert the Combat Master before the battle concludes, or else the battle will be judged with standard Realism grades for Force power usage. See http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Rancor_Graveyard for more information on this location.

The Rancor Graveyard. A two hundred meter expanse marking the ancient burial site of Felucia's deadliest creatures—the location of innumerable piles of the ancient remnants of hundreds, if not thousands of rancors. A circular enclosure of bones are arranged in the center of the cemetery, no doubt the former dwelling of a powerful practitioner of the Force. Cobwebs cling to the fallen beasts, a testament to the primordial age of some of the creatures.

Somewhat obscured by surrounding cliffs and the luminescent jungle, the dusted bones and carcasses are cast in a faint shadow, with just enough light to see by. The atmosphere is thick and stifling, with a strong overtone of dust and bone suspended in the still air. You sense the strong taint of the Dark Side's influence, the entire area polluted by that power. Unlike most of Felucia, the area is nearly devoid of life but for the ravenous predators, twisted by the Force, dwelling within the hollowed-out husks of the dead rancors.

Standing in the graveyard, that dark power flows into you, causing your blood to sizzle. Movement suddenly catches your eye. Your senses reach out instinctively, seeking out the other intruder disturbing the dead. You turn towards the source as it turns towards you. Death, it seems, has come to the Graveyard once again.

Night had long settled on the graveyard before Skar could get a fire going. The flickering light that soon emanating from the fire gave his crimson eyes a sinister gleam behind his Huk mask.

Rrogon was kneeling down in front of the small campfire he had set up recently in the ribcage of a long dead Rancor. Before tending to the fresh kill of a some form of canine that had attacked him when he first stepped into the boneyard.

A grim look washed over the young Kaleesh’s face as he quickly skinned and gut the animal with his combat knife before setting it over the fire to cook.

Letting out a small sigh as the smell of roasting meat filled his nostrils, Skar eased back down and laid his back against one of the oversized ribs. His gaze lingered on the fire for some time. The former leader of Shadow Gate slowly dropped his mental defenses senses reaching out to survey the arena around his temporary camp.

The strong residual dark side energy that hung over this place was the first thing that he noticed; it was so strong that it nearly drowned him all at once until he restored the barriers of around his mind. Growling to himself, The Kaleesh reached for the canine and turned over the roasting animal so that the meat would cook evenly.

‘It is going to be difficult to sense anything with this place so tainted in the dark side. Going to need to rely on basic senses then until I leave this place.’ Settling back against the bone the Kaleesh let his thoughts drift back to several days ago, just prior to leaving the shadowport on his journey. He did not let anyone know that he was leaving, other than Atyiru, and even that was intentionally vague on the reason why he had suddenly left and offered no explanation as to where he was going.

He was practically grinning over how Celevon must have reacted to his departure. Oh well, nothing to do about it now but wait for the strike team to find him.

Before his thoughts could go any further, the crunching of stones underneath someone's boot jarred him back into reality. Leaping to his feet, Rrogon leaned over enough so he could just barely peek around the the obstruction that he had his back against.

The darkness that covered the graveyard did not hinder the Gladiator’s sight thanks to his people’s natural night vision, which gave him a clear view of two individuals trying to weave their way through the maze of bones that littered the clearing’s edge. A broad grin formed behind his mask when he saw the alabaster-skinned Zabrak and the blue-colored Ryn that was crouching behind her. Both were in their usual clothing they wore when not serving on the Nighthawk. Reaching out with the Force, The student called out to his former Master through her mind, using the connection they formed during their time together.

"Well this is a surprise to say the least the Nighthawk's captain and chief interrogator set to bring me back. I'm flattered.”

Nath's head whipped around as she tried to locate the source of the voice the side of her lips twitching upwards slightly when she realized it was telepathy a split second later.

“You know Atyiru was very displeased over your message Apprentice she ordered Kordath to take the Nighthawk and find you and to bring you back.”

The grin faded from Skar’s face when he heard this; a cold anger, began stirring within his chest. Reaching behind him,Skar's hand grasped the handle on one of his DL-44 blasters and pulled it from its concealed holster, while his other hand grabbed his lightsaber.

“So I can assume that the Nighthawk is in orbit ready to deploy troops or just gas the area if you and Kordath give the order.”

“Correct,” came the terse reply.

Letting a low growl escape his lips, the Kaleesh considered his options. He could make a run for it but with the Nighthawk's bio scanners they could track him anywhere on the planet. Not to mention the marines under Zakath's command were nothing to scoff at. If he were to run, Zakath would want to hunt him down personally.

Only one of the options that were open to him was good. he would have to fight this and see where it went. Who knew, maybe he would get lucky and get away.

“Well Master, best of luck to you and the Ryn, may the best fighter win,” spat Rrogon while leaning just a little more so he could take aim with his pistol.

“Oh I'm not going to fight; I'm just going to sit back and watch while you tear each other apart.”

“Oh really…. why does this not surprise me?” asked the Kaleesh.

'Because it shouldn't', replied his former Master.

“Well then, you might want to move; this is about to get good.” Rrogon taunted with glee before he pulled the trigger on his blaster, sending the bolt of energy right at the captain's head.

Kordath Bleu was not having a great day. He’d looked forward to Felucia, everything he’d read about it suggested it was a nice place to visit. Bountiful wildlife and flora that he’d never gotten to take in before, that’s what he’d been promised when given this mission. The damned Miraluka had played him again, it seemed. Not that it mattered, when the Shadow Lady said ‘go fetch the Kaleesh before he hurts himself’....well, you went. The shuttle ride down from the Nighthawk had been awful, but he was getting used to that. All shuttle rides were awful when you spent the whole time rigid with fear of decompression, or mechanical failure, or a shot seal sucking out….

The Ryn shook his head, trying to focus on the horribly bleak sight ahead of him. Massive skeletons loomed overhead, resting on the barren and...desecrated ground. That one made Bleu pause, mentally. So many large dead beasts, the area should be positively overgrown from the amount of biological material that had decomposed here. The whole place reeked of the something foul to the Ryn’s sensitivity to the Force. It was choking...no, that wasn’t the word, suffocating. It felt for all the world as if he was treading water in a deep, dark hole and barely keeping his head above it.

“This place is ripe with the Dark Side,” spoke his Master, who had oddly volunteered to come down to the planet alongside him. Nath Voth had little in the way of expression on her face, she kept a rather stoic mask even around him these days. It would have been unnerving if he hadn’t seen both frustration and approval at varying points in his past with her while training.

“You didn’t have to come, Master,” he spoke, quietly as if afraid to stir some dark spirit within the graveyard.

“And you no longer have to call me that, Captain,” she replied. “Skar is out here somewhere….we can both sense him, no?”

Kordath nodded in response, slowly turning his head as he focused his mental senses to track down the Kaleesh. It was proving to more difficult than he was used to, one part performance anxiety around the woman who’d managed to take the thief and turn him into a useful member of the Clan...one part overwhelming darkness. Still he gained an idea of what direction the Obelisk was hiding in, though his oft relied upon danger sense was kicking up a storm. It was never good when the Force began sending him the sort of feelings that made the hair along his neck stand on end, but this was more akin to getting hit by lightning.

Still those warnings were a major reason the Krath hadn’t been killed in any of the numerous conflicts he’d been a part of since becoming and Arconan. So he wasn’t even surprised when the blaster bolt left a trail of burnt ozone above his prone body. Several more scarlet beams flashed in, sending sparks and blasted bits of rock across his form as he kept his head down. When the barrage paused Kordath glanced up, first checking to insure his Master….subordinate, she was one of his crew these days he reminded himself, hadn’t been hit.

He spotted her atop a nearby spire of rock, standing with her arms cross over her chest and...smiling. Great, Nath was smiling, that spelled so many bad things for the Ryn.

“Really, Nath? Bit exposed up there!”

“I am in no danger. You on the other hand...I’ve often wondered how my two students would stand up to one another.”

She sounded...satisfied, and curious. He noted that the Zabrak woman was also watching a pile of bones not far off from where Kordath was lying. Body tense, the Ryn pushed himself off the barren ground, and promptly dashed towards the nearest bit of cover as a pair of blaster bolts flashed past him. Scrambling over a rib bone that must of belonged to the most massive animal he hoped to never encounter, the Priest fell behind it in time to see more flashes of light streak over his new found cover.

This is going to be my whole day, isn’t it?

When the shooting stopped again...Kordath could sense Skar moving nearby, likely trying to find another vantage point, he decided to switch gears.

“Skar!” he shouted, not willing to poke his head out. “It’s time to come back in from the cold, mate! Atty is a bit miffed at ya, but you come home now and she’ll cool off pretty quick, you know how she is!”

A few tense heartbeats passed before he heard the Kaleesh’s somewhat familiar voice shout back in reply. “Not going back yet. I just wanted some time alone, is that so bad? Port O’val is a cage, Kordath! No privacy, people everywhere all the time!”

“...wait what?” the Ryn sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment. “Are you saying…I got sent out here, to this pit of a graveyard permeated with Dark Side energies and no bar service, because...because YOU NEEDED SOME TIME TO BLOODY THINK!?”

Kordath shook his head before freezing in place as a new sound filled the air. A hissing, buzzing noise that seemed to be growing in volume, right before the rib bone he was cowering behind split apart. Skar stood before him now, surrounded by the remains of the a dead beast who’d failed to hide the Krath, wielding his emerald blade and staring at him with the creepy karking mask of his people.

I can’t believe I’m going to die because this kid ‘needed some space’, he thought, hand scrabbling for his own lightsaber hilt. The Kaleesh advanced.

A wide grin had grown on the Gladiator’s face as he glared down on the scrambling Ryn who trying to reach for his lightsaber. Skar’s boot came crashing down onto his hand with a sickening crack as the Krath finally grasped his weapon.

Letting out a cruel laugh, Rrogon leaned down and ripped Kordath’s lightsaber out of his now- broken hand and attached it to his belt.

“You won’t be needing this,” snarled the Kaleesh, “you wouldn't be much of a fight with it anyway.”

Kordath grimaced in pain as Rrogon’s boot continued to grind his hand into the ground.“Karking hell kid what is your problem. If you just wanted to be left alone you should have just talked to blinky. I’m sure she would have given you some time off without you just going completely AWOL on us.”

Leaning back down the Gatekeeper's face stopped mere inches from the Ryn, his crimson eyes glowing with almost feral intensity. “Where's the fun from simply explaining everything to the higher ups? Had I gone to Celevon he probably would have just laughed in my face and sent me back to work. If I had gone to Atyiru she would have just fretted over me like I was her own child and that would have just gotten boring just as fast.”

The grin he wore grew to almost maniacal proportions as he spoke, “So I thought it would just be more fun if I left and saw what happened and I must admit I'm quite impressed at the result.”

Surging forward, Rrogon seized the smaller, struggling Krath by the throat and hauled him to his feet and as the Ryn’s broken hand tried to claw at the Kaleesh’s steel grip while the other slipped into the sash bound about his waist and brought out one of the bone daggers he carried with him and drove it clean through the Kaleesh’s forearm.

Grunting in surprise and shock the Gatekeeper spun around and tossed the scrawny Ryn into the center of the small clearing. Gazing down at the knife that now sprouted from his arm, the Kaleesh grimaced in pain as he pulled the knife out. With a small grunt he tossed the knife off into the darkness far enough away so the Nighthawk Captain would not be able to find it.

Looking down at the wound, he called upon the Force and began to knit the flesh back together slowly and quite painfully. Pushing the pain to the side Rrogon’s gazed flickered back to Kordath who was just now starting to pull himself up and to his feet.

“Well nice try Kord. Next time aim for something more vital like my head, but if it's any consolation that hurt like hell,” growled the Gatekeeper as his hand moved over the now-closed wound. “Still I think the fun we could have had is now long passed.”

Turing around Rrogon reached out with both hands and closed his eyes to concentrate as he reached out and fully gave into the darkness that clung onto the graveyard. Nothing happened at first but then slowly the bones of the long dead rancor in front of him began to stir as if life had suddenly been restored to the creature.

Slowly but surely the rancor skeletal frame began to take its normal shape once more. When it was fully formed rotting flesh began to grow wrapping and twisting over the bones, reforming the muscle and skin that had long since withered into dust.

Each step the undead rancor took shook the ground like an earthquake as it made its way to stand behind Rrogon, its hollow and rotting sockets now fully fixed on Kordath whose eyes were wide with fear.

Turning around, Rrogon looked at the Krath. There were no emotions in the Kaleesh’s eyes as the rancor grabbed the Ryn in its massive claws. “Checkmate, Kord,” spoke the gladiator in a deadpan voice as the undead creature opened its mouth impossibly wide, the stench of death and decay flowing freely from it.

Darkness and the sensation of falling consumed the Ryn as he fell into the rancor’s mouth for what seemed like an eternity. Bright dots began to fill his vision as he began to regain his bearings before he suddenly awoke in a cold sweat in the Nighthawk medical bay.

Looking around the Krath’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light and it took him several minutes to realize that Nath was sitting next to him with a smug grin on her face. Before he could speak she spoke up first. “You got caught in his illusion and got knocked out.”

Nodding slightly he looked down the table next to his master and found that his lightsaber and knife he lost were both laying there waiting for him to grab them when he left. “And what happened to Rrogon?” he asked slowly.

Nath merely shrugged. “He came willingly after he knocked you out cold. He is in a holding cell.”

Kordath let out a sigh of relief when he heard this. “Well I guess we should head back to Selen then.”

“Should have just left me alone Bleu!” shouted the emotionally unstable Templar as he took a swipe at the Priest.

Kordath yelped and scrambled backwards on the ground, barely managing to keep hold of his own saber hilt. This was the last place he wanted to be right now, stuck in a massive rib cage with an angry and far more capable fighter. Rolling to avoid another strike, he could hear the dirt and stone hiss and burn from the Kaleesh’s attacks. Finally able to get enough space to jump to his feet, the Krath turned and activated his own weapon. His nerves being what they were, adrenaline pumping and the overbearing sensation of darkness that permeated the area, he nearly dropped the bloody thing.

“Skar--,” he started to say as he fended off a series of quick and powerful blows that drove him back towards a recess in the ribs. The Obelisk was going to have him trapped and cornered soon, this was bad. A hastily thrown up wall of Force energy slowed what would have been a killing blow and allowed the Ryn to duck past the enraged Qel Droman. “Would you bloody well stop trying to stick me with that thing and calm down, mate?”

The Kaleesh didn’t respond, just turning to pursue him. Kordath spotted an opening between two ribs that looked promising, a gap at least large enough for him to get through if he was quick. The Krath focused himself and tried to plan out the next few seconds of the battle. If he could just get out from what had been cover, now turned into a death trap, he might stand a chance. With a deep breath he made a small hop backwards from the furious Obelisk and threw up his off hand, making a circle with ring finger and thumb. A bright flash of Force induced light caused the entire ribcage to explode with brightness.

From Nath’s vantage point it likely looked quite impressive in the dark, streams of white light streaking out from between the ribs. For Kordath, the instant he did it became regret. The sensations of the Force and the drowning feeling he’d been sensing since coming to this part of the planet reared their ugly heads. He’d dropped his saber at some point, and felt as if he’d just been on a three day bender in the bar district of Nar Shaddaa. Purple splotches filled his vision and his ears rang, he’d not expected the output of his attack to be so strong. Blinking, some images started to filter in. He thought he could see...yes, Skar was still there. And it looked like the Kaleesh had thrown an arm over his face.

Oh kark.

Over the ringing in his ears, the Ryn heard his target let out some kind of primal sound of rage. Kordath couldn’t move, he felt like throwing up and his head was spinning, right up to the point where Skar grabbed him by his unkempt hair. The Obelisk dragged him to the nearest outcropping of bone, and slammed his face into it once, twice...Kordath lost count and consciousness at this point. When his body went limp the Kaleesh dropped him to the ground, shoulders rising and lowering with deep breathes. Skar exited through the hole he’d made in the rib cage, red eyes tracking through the darkness in search of his Master.

Nath stood upon her spire, shaking her head in disgust at Kordath’s performance. The Templar took this as his cue and ran off into the darkness. He had to wonder who else Atyiru would send after him, probably somebody more combat able. He’d face that when it came.