Combat Master’s Note: Because you are matches against a member of your Clan, this battle takes on a unique format. You will be encountering Janni Kuran with an ally. Treat Janni Kuran as you would any other ACC opponent. You WILL be judged using the ACC rubric, so the person posting the best story will move on to subsequent rounds. If you wish to fight your Clanmate as well, you may, but this is not in any way a requirement.

Begeren. Once a prosperous Sith world, it has been the site of numerous battles throughout the millennia. Grand halls and monuments were torn down and re-purposed by looting Republic forces thousands of years ago, before they were driven from the planet. Isolated settlements still dot the planet's surface, but the inhospitable, craggy, and desert-like terrain, along with the beasts common to many desert and Sith worlds, have kept most humanoids from colonizing. Occasional skirmishes have left debris scattered throughout the desert, and battles were fought here as recently as the Galactic Civil War. The planet is now under the control of the One Sith and is rumored to be full of all manner of priceless, ancient Sith artifacts.

The Dark Council has pushed forth to Begeren and the Grand Master, on his quest for ever more powerful items, has decreed the Clans and Houses seize anything of value. The unity shown by the Brotherhood during the beginning of this Crusade is fracturing, with the Clans and Houses growing tired and frustrated with the seemingly endless succession of battles. Tempers are flaring between former allies, with outright aggression no longer uncommon. Despite this, you have responded to the Grand Master's call—though whether it's to actually seize the items for the Brotherhood, destroy them, or use them for your own purposes, only you know.

NPC Character Sheet: One Sith Adept Janni Kuran

By chance, you and an ally have followed the call of the Force to a stretch of desert wasteland, seemingly unremarkable save for the various rock outcroppings that dot the landscape. These outcroppings, though, hide a subterranean cave network, known to be a den of wraids. Though the entrances to the caverns are typically narrow and dark, these tunnels quickly widen. Below the surface, bioluminescent plants and lichen provide limited light.

You know that, even if you and your compatriot are alone in the desert, you won’t be for long. An ancient Sith tomb is located deep within the caves the wraids now call home, and the One Sith are keenly aware of its location. With the Brotherhood’s invasion, the One Sith are scrambling to recover their most powerful artifacts. Exactly what you’ll find in that tomb, you’re not sure—but it is something of great power, that you can sense. You know it is your duty to find it, whatever it is, though what you do with it… that is up to you.

As the two of you near one of the entrances to the caves, you think you hear the sounds of footsteps, or maybe skittering, down below—and above ground, you hear the crunch of rock underfoot as someone else has found a different rocky cave entrance, as well.

Wuntila trudged towards a lone outcropping in the vast wasteland, looking to rest. Whilst he was fatigued with their three-day long trek, his fellow Arconan companion exacerbated the situation with his drivelling. Settling on a small rock, Wuntila let out an audible sigh of relief as Meleu put an end to the garbage spewing from his mouth by drinking from his hip flask.

“Kriffing hell,” Meleu called out pessimistically as he placed the flask back onto his belt, “we are never going to find any artifacts!”

Wuntila sat in silence, staring deep into Meleu’s eyes for a few moments in order to find out what kind of Sith was accompanying him. Despite being tasked with taking Meleu on as a travelling companion only a week ago, Wuntila was already able to understand certain things about the young Sith. Meleu was arrogant, cocky and cynical, in a way that Wuntila respected, but despised at the same time. The confident aura around Meleu impressed the military man, despite having witnessed individuals cower in just his appearance. The Exarch however, also understood the negative aspects of this trait: an untimely death of the individual who possessed it.

“Especially not with that attitude,” the Exarch retorted forthrightly. “This scepticism is not helping and I’d prefer it if you said nothing.”

Meleu opened his mouth to speak but the words that followed were drowned out by the sound of squealing below. Meleu gave off a huge grin. He could recognise the sound of a dying wraid a mile off after having slaughtered many during his short time on Begeren, much to the distaste of Wuntila.

In an instant, Meleu hoisted his lightsaber hilt from his belt and ignited it as he dropped down through a hole near the outcropping into the cave system below. Not used to being lead, the Exarch hesitated before following suit. The first thing that he noticed as he landed on the rocky floor below was the unfamiliar look of shock on Meleu’s face. Then he heard snarling, snarling of hungry Akk dogs.

A blood red hue lit up the darkened cave and allowed the two Arconans to finally visualise the situation at hand. An attractive and sculpted Zeltron female caught the eyes of Meleu, her distinctive pink hair enhanced by the blade in Meleu’s hand.

The three Akk dogs, influenced by the Force, slowly stalked towards the two Arconans, forcing Wuntila to draw his blade. The Zeltron, to protect the artifact around her neck, swiftly unholstered her heavy blaster pistol, firing several bolts of energy in the general direction of her opponents. Wuntila reacted faster than expected, not only intercepting the blaster bolts, but also redirecting them towards the encroaching, growling Akk dogs. In rapid succession, each of the Akk dogs fell despite their natural armouring with their lightsaber resistant scaly hide, the Exarch hitting the eyes of the vicious predators with pinpoint accuracy. Only one of the dogs succumbed to the wounds however, with the other two gravely injured but slowly being healed through the Force.

The Zeltron scowled, her skin colour matched her emotion.

“You may have killed my little pets, “ the young female said, “but you are no match for the power of Janni Kuran and the One Sith!”

Kuran leaped up into the air, retrieving her purple-bladed lightsaber simultaneously. Despite usually being fuelled by her own confidence, the death of the Akk dogs that she had grown accustomed too - almost dependant on their presence - had opened up her vindictive emotions. She landed feet away from her Arconan foes and instantly started an offensive sequence of attacks on them. She cycled between both of her opponents, releasing Force enhanced strikes on her opponents blades, persistently trying to overwhelm her defenses.

The Arconans reacted instinctively, synergising as they began to circle their opponent. Despite the apparent deficiency in defense from behind, the Zeltron was able to parry and counter the rapid punch-like strikes from Wuntila and the importunate strikes from Meleu. She achieved this through use of the Force, which gave her complete spherical vision around her, as well as the natural defenses that comes from being a Ataru user and small in stature, allowing her to manoeuvre her way out of trouble.

“Kark !” Wuntila cried out in pain as Kuran caught the tip of his kneecap with a sharp Force-enriched kick.

As Wuntila tried to regain his concentration, Kuran turned her focus onto the weaker of the two Arconans. Though they were using similar offensive striking and lacked defense, Kuran took the upper hand in the momentary solo duel as her mastery of the bladed form and athletic ability allowed her to toy with her opponent.

In true leader’s fashion, Wuntila rejoined the fight after his brief pause, beginning to dictate the fight. Now using the Force to enhance his primal adrenaline, the Exarch began to tire his opponent by using his entire body weight each time he struck his opponent, ignoring the pain stemming from his kneecap. Meleu’s attacks began to shift from aggressive to a more elegant, ingratiating manner, as if he was trying to impress Wuntila with his surprisingly sophisticated knowledge of Ataru.

Throughout the entire fight, a small group of wraids that were spared by the arrival of the Arconans had grown interested in the possibility of a free meal. Having sensed their continuous presence throughout the fight, Kuran realised that the rage-enhanced strikes from her cerulean-skinned foe were slowly catching her off guard and that she had to find time to recuperate.

As Wuntila swung towards the Zeltron with a two-handed blow, the young female recognised the danger almost an entire second before, rolling backwards and allowing herself to move out the pincer-like formation that had been created around her. Through bending the minds of the weak wraids through the Force, she commanded them to attack the Arconan pair. She took this time to regain her breath and compose herself, she made her way deeper into the cavern.

“Brace!”

Wuntila opened himself up to the Force. Raw, unrelenting energy flooded his senses. He erupted. A thunderclap reverberated around the tight cavern, sending an explosive shockwave out from his very core. It struck the encircling wraids like a freighter. Yelps and shrieks pierced the stifling air as the creatures careened into the jagged walls of the cavern and dropped weightily to the floor. Wuntila was already moving, dispatching two of the reptiles as they struggled to find their footing before bisecting another as it attempted to scurry deeper into the cave. Meleu cut down the final two with a flourish, his lightsaber spitting crimson fire into the blackness. The two men exchanged a glance.

“Keep moving.” Wuntila growled, turning on the ball of his foot and sprinting into the warren. Meleu quickly fell in behind the former Consul, relying heavily on the Force to amplify his senses in the intermittent darkness.

He was surprised at the Arconae’s physicality; for someone so stout, he expected Wuntila to be cumbersome and slow, but he found himself struggling to maintain pace with the Dragon. They rounded a corner, much to Meleu’s delight, and a dancing veil of firelight welcomed them into a larger cavern.

The two Arconans spilled into the light and teetered on the edge of a narrow causeway. At their toes, a gorge of hewn stone stretched out into the blackness beyond. A brazier set atop an outcrop in the centre of the subterranean bridge cast a flickering veil over the crystals in the mine below, a pallette of flashing iridescence in an otherwise barren rockface.

The Dragon stopped for a moment, blinking away the darkness and allowing the Force to clear his vision. Uneven stairs broke off from the causeway at the central point, hidden by the deceptive glare of the fire.

“There.” Wuntila gestured. Meleu followed the Exarch’s outstretched hand to the staircase and down into the crystal quarry. Then he saw her.

At the foot of the stairway a lithe shadow lurked in the dark. A lilting laugh punctuated the silence, followed by her lightsaber hissing to life. A violet veil revealed her chiseled face and she smiled. It was a wicked smile, one of malice.

“Boys, boys, boys,” rang her voice, poison and silk, “let’s not fight. There is plenty here for us all.”

Wuntila started forward across the causeway and towards the stairs, Dragonsbreath humming ominously by his side. “I do not play games.”

“As you wish.” She gave a lasting grin and, with outstretched arms, summoned her slaves to service. As if from the ground, legs and claws and teeth and eyes formed crude shapes and began to shuffle awkwardly. A murmur of chattering teeth and barks sounded out like a primeval battlecry, made all the more menacing by Janni’s lilting laugh as she stepped forward.

Meleu grit his teeth. Tapping into his connection with the Force, he leapt down into the pit below, eschewing any careful negotiation of the stairs. Landing in a plume of dust he rolled to break his fall and erupted in a flurry of acrobatics, carving his way towards Janni.

”Fool!” The Dragon barked, but, before he could join his brazen ally, the Force screamed a warning in his ear.

The Arconae ducked reflexively, narrowly avoiding a plethora of daggers as they embedded themselves in the hard stone behind. He sprinted the last hundred metres of the path, silencing one, two wraids in mid-leap, before throwing himself into the air and across the writhing mass below. But he fell short.

From the darkness emerged two cobalt orbs. Thick hide and muscle crashed into Wuntila mid-arc, throwing him hard into the floor. Teeth like Krayt talons snapped wildly in the darkness as the Arconae scrambled.

Meleu could only watch as the Akk dog lurched into the fold and wrenched the Dragon from flight. The Force, it seemed, was quite the healer. He pressed on, darting between the bulky mass of reptiles below, his dexterity and apparent proficiency with his lightsaber acting as a counterpoint to his muscular physique.

Janni was only feet away when he jarred to a halt. She smiled, and he found himself locked to the floor, wraids clambering over his feet but arresting their attacks. The shuffling slowed; soon the only sound was the snapping of jaws as Wuntila struggled against the Zeltron’s savage companion.

Meleu felt strangely calm. She soothed his pysche, caressed his emotions. A gentle kiss in a storm.

“Meleu, I know why you are here…” She stepped forward, running a soft, satin hand across his chest. She fingered the talisman hanging from her neck, a relic from the high ages of the Sith.

“You want the best for your people. They have welcomed you as their own.” Meleu thought back to Plagueis, to his former past. The Clan that had cast him aside, severed alliances. They had questioned his dedication, his fealty. He felt the Zeltron dive deeper into his mind. “Your new kin respect you for your loyalty. But not if they find out that you had accompanied a defector.” Meleu’s azure eyes widened.

“No. ” Meleu spat. “He is Arconae. He has been marked by the Clan.”

“So why is he not in the comfort of their company? He has his own agenda. His heart is not with the Clan.”

Meleu set his jaw, turning his attention to the Exarch who had struggled to his feet.

“Kill him,” Janni purred, “Kill him now and make sure that his corruption does not spread.”

The Arconae swung a heavy gauntlet, parrying a feral snap by the Akk dog. The reptomammal roared, half pain and half infuriation. Wuntila capitalised, driving the blade of his lightsaber into the roof of the creature’s mouth. Piercing, lidless eyes glazed over and the animal slumped to the floor.

“Meleu, don’t listen to her!” the Dragon screamed, but Meleu did not hear. He simply set his lightsaber and bellowed.

Meleu was fixed on Wuntila. The Dragon pushed the fallen Akk dog to his side. Meleu remained silent as Wuntila made his way to his feet, dazed.

“Don’t fall for it, Meleu!” the warrior called out.

It was too late however, Meleu, intent on serving his new clan well, moved towards Wuntila to try and strike down the supposed defector. She must be right!, Meleu muttered to himself.

Meleu once again threw himself into a fight. He propelled off the ground with his lightsaber above his head with the intention of killing the dazed man.

Kuran looked on, curious to see how much she could bend the mind of a man, especially the mind of such a fierce combatant. She smiled as she goaded on her puppet,

“Kill him! He betrayed your glorious Brotherhood!”

Meleu landed with his blade striking down towards his opponent. The red blade cut into the rock beneath where the man had been standing. The Dragon had reacted instinctively and had rolled out of the way of the blow.

“I’m sorry, “ the Arconan said bluntly, with no hint of sincerity.

The words were followed by a swift Force-enhanced kick to the face. Meleu was in the same position he landed in when the force struck, hitting him hard across the left cheek. Fortunately, where this would normally kill the average human, Meleu, attuned to the Force was able to lessen the blow, but he was still knocked out cold.

Kuran’s smile dropped. Her puppet had failed at the first hurdle. She sighed at the realisation that she would have to be the one to kill the Dragon.

Wuntila made his way over to his One Sith opponent. The two engaged in fierce bladed combat. The Arconae was striking his opponent but as a result of his weighted attacks, the Zeltron was easily able to parry and dodge most of the attacks with her acrobatic proficiency.

Meleu woke up on the ground of the cavern, confused and slightly dazed. He picked up his lightsaber hilt that was lying to his side and glanced over towards the duel happening before him. He was unnoticed by the two combatants.

The duel continued and Wuntila started an offensive Shii-Cho sequence, once again heavy weighted blows. The One Sith continued to duck, weave and parry all of the attempts by Wuntila, but she was starting to become readable, with her own defensive sequence starting to develop a pattern that Wuntila could work around. He started another aggressive sequence and unsurprisingly to him, the Zeltron’s defensive sequence was the same. The Arconae saw an opening, lunging with his blade towards the petite woman’s chest. To his surprise, similar to the situation with Meleu before, the blade hit nothing. The Dark Adept had baited him. The momentum behind the lunge sent him onto the floor, causing a deep graze down his face as he slid across the rocky ground.

“I apologise on the behalf of your apprentice.”

“He’s not my apprentice,” the Dragon retorted.

Meleu snapped out of his confusion and quickly came to grips with the situation at hand. Using the first thing that came to his head, he ignited his saber and instantly threw his blade in the direction of the Zeltron. She rapidly responded and swivelled around to move off of the attack. Wuntila reacted, grabbing Dragonsbreath, the sliced across the shins of his opponent, amputating both legs under the knee. The One Sith collapsed under the momentum of her evasive manoeuvre and lack of legs, ending up in a similar position to the Arconae. Meleu stood up, walking over towards his saber which was embedded in the cave wall. He offered a hand to his companion and pulled him up to his feet. They moved over to the moaning Zeltron.

“Looks like there is no need to apologise now,” the Knight provoked the legless Kuran.

“Tha- ,” Kuran’s mouth opened, but unable to finish her sentence as a blood-red bladed saber silenced her as it pierced her heart.

Wuntila bent down a pulled the Sith artifact from the chain around the Zeltron’s neck.

“Let’s go.” Wuntila said to the Sith.

A crimson flash; a blinding scar. The lightsaber oscillated as it whipped through the air, glinting blades following close behind. Wuntila stretched to swat the incoming lightsaber from his path, but the Zeltron’s daggers escaped him. Pain seared across the Dragon’s chest and arms. Two blades sang as they vibrated in the crystal-laden stone behind, but four had found their mark - two in his left arm, one in his chest and another buried deep in his right shoulder.

He barely had time to register the damage before he heard the unmistakable cry of his new assailant. Meleu arced through the air, hands outstretched as if holding the shaft of a warhammer. Glittering tendrils of the Force sprang from his palms, creating a writhing mass of raw energy. The tendrils bound themselves to one another, entwining to create an intricate club.

A blur.

Dust erupted in a plume from the spot previously occupied by Wuntila. The Dragon dipped under the strike, spinning as the former Plagueian glided over him, and turned to drive a thick, ham hock fist into Meleu’s kidney. The Knight stumbled forward, off-balance, and Wuntila focused his attention on their common foe. The Dragon snarled, tearing the daggers from his flesh with a single swipe of his arm. He beckoned the Force, willing it to his injuries. The pain did not subside, but he felt the wounds begin to knit together deep within his skin.

He looked up, scanning the room through the veil of deceptive, flickering firelight for Janni’s sickly red skin, but saw only a sea of boulder-like bodies clodhopping towards him. The Arconae further extended his connection to the Force, drawing upon more of his quickly-depleting reserves. He felt his skin convulse as his pores shed their natural moisture and hardened into a thick hide.

“Animals,” he spat, wading into the wraids. Through an unending mass of snapping jaws and scratching claws he pressed towards the staircase unharmed. He knew that, if nothing else, he could draw out the Adept in the light of the slowly-dying brazier. His mind wandered for a moment - on where she was, who she was - before being plunged back to reality by the snap-hiss of a lightsaber. He turned to see Meleu, eyes veiled in red and glazed with anger and contempt.

“Meleu, you don’t want to--” Wuntila began before a cackle reverberated through the cave.

“So old, yet so naive.” It was her, the Zeltron. “Then again, I am wiser than my years.” Wuntila could hear the smile in her voice, sense the game she was playing.

He caught a glimmer in the roof of the cave and saw her hanging, inverted amongst the crystal shards. Bounding up the stairs, he leapt up, using the rim of the brazier to propel himself into the air. Sparks flew as Dragonsbreath carved fire through the crystals overhead and the two fell to the plateau below.

Janni landed softly, reaching out with the Force to pluck her hilt from her belt. Wuntila was not so graceful, stumbling amongst the drove of wraids as he struggled to regain balance. The Zeltron was already moving, her pink hair trailing wildly in her wake as she sailed effortlessly through the air. Wuntila growled, throwing Dragonsbreath into her path and parrying a violet swipe. She was a whirlwind. Her lithe form coupled with her skill and connection to the Force made her an apparition. It was as if she could see every nuance in the Arconae’s movement before a step was made. The Dragon relied on his reflexes; a parry here, a dodge there. He could do little but swing his lightsaber and hope. Then Meleu rejoined the fray.

The Knight roared as he sprinted through the writhing mass of wraids, swinging his lightsaber in a strong, two-handed arc. Janni hesitated for a moment and Wuntila capitalised. He reached out, grabbing the tiny wrist of his opponent, and swung her into the path of a frenzied Meleu. The Dragon stared into her eyes, but she remained stern, stoic. It was then that he felt the Force surge from her core.

She leapt up into the air and over the Arconae, wrenching her own contorted arm and Wuntila along with it. They crashed into the hard stone underfoot as Meleu stumbled over their entangled limbs. Janni struggled to wriggle free of the Dragon’s locked grip, but soon shedded her heavy companion with the help of Meleu. The former Plagueian had pushed himself to his feet and, disregarding his lightsaber, leapt astride the former Consul, raining heavy fists down onto a bloodied face.

Shifting under the Knight’s heft, Wuntila used his own weight to heave the former Plagueian off onto the floor. He flipped onto his stomach to see Janni darting past the brazier and jumping atop the last of her three companions.

Of course, Wuntila thought gritting his teeth, the other akk dog.

The creature vaulted down into the pit whilst Janni unholstered the blaster at her hip. Dragonsbreath roared back to life just in time to shield Wuntila from an incoming barrage of bolts.

Meleu, however, had not been so quick. The akk dog landed with two rapier-like talons, puncturing the Knight’s chest before bringing its whole weight down onto his torso. The snapping and gurgling lasted only a second before the wraids set upon the fresh meal.

“And you,” Janni spoke, turning and pointing at the Dragon, “You could be useful. You’re coming with me…”

Wuntila felt himself tiring, he felt the conflict warring in his mind, his will fighting hers. A cacophony of voices buffeted his psyche, all tonal variations of Janni’s own. He was stronger than most, that much was evident, but even he was susceptible to her all-consuming gift. He shook his head, one last act of defiance, before accepting her invitation. He stepped forward and climbed atop the beast.

Wuntila’s voice was not his own. “As you command, my master.”