Elevated over a ravine, the Massassi Arena has withstood the tests of time. It is arranged in a circular formation and made by a slab of stone that connects the opposite slopes of the ravine. On its eastern side, the floating arena leads to a staircase and into a near-vertical cliff face. Because of its nearly unsupported vantage that overlooks a several hundred-meter fall, even the smallest creatures can feel the occasional motion the platform makes as the breeze brushes across its cold surface.

Adding to the adrenaline rush of standing within the slab’s concentric patterns carved into the rock, barriers and obstacles echo the Massassi’s commitment to taking every advantage over their opponents. Pillars ring the outer edge without guard rails between them, some remaining intact and others having toppled into the arena or over the perilous heights. Weeds and other fauna cover each surface as nature seeks to reclaim the ravine and eventually send the arena itself to the depths.

A creaky rope-bridge leads away towards another ancient suspended platform with the same weathered, upturned stones. Mossy footing, and uneven ground make each of these platforms unique in small subtle ways. While there is no seating for formal spectators, the ancient stones of the Massassi Arena hold an omniscient, aged wisdom that speak to the things they have seen and the battles fought through history.

A third rope-bridge leads to yet another platform, completing the triad of battlegrounds that make up the Massassi Arena.

A steady breeze blew through the ravine, stirring the foliage surrounding the ancient arena. A thin layer of dirt and grit coated the well worn arena surface, crunching lightly underfoot as the Equite moved toward the center. Clad simply in a gray shirt, black pants and boots, Rasilvenaira presented a rather unassuming figure. She had a moderately lean build of a modest height, with dark brown hair pulled back in a basic braid. Her keen dark eyes swept over the arena and the surrounding jungle. The irony of the venue was not lost on the Battlelord. The Massassi arena was an ancient relic holding tenuously to the present, but with enough force applied in the right places, the whole thing could crumble into the ravine below. The Sith exhaled slowly. She herself was a relic, an icon of days long past. Her opponent was one of many who had risen to prominence in her absence; one of many who had never heard of the StormRaven of Scholae Palatinae.

Rasilvenaira's hands rested lightly against her hips, and the weapons waiting there. There was the comforting presence of the cold, dark metal blades of the Arash-Kumori on her left hip. The quiet, ready power of her silver bladed lightsaber weighed lightly on her right hip. The Sith nodded silently to herself, stilling her mind as her senses reached out around her. Rasilvenaira was ready for whatever was to come. Her stance was relaxed yet alert, calm and confident as she waited.

The soft sound of footsteps and a light ripple in the Force signaled the Gray Jedi's arrival. Lexiconus didn't appear to be trying to conceal his approach, likely considered to be wasted effort given the location. The Quarren studied the human female in front of him, his tentacles twitched slightly as he offered a nod of acknowledgment. His fingers maintained a loose, ready grip on the hilt of his saberstaff as he stepped in a bit closer.

The wind stopped, and the jungle around them fell silent. It was as though everything waited, watching as the two Equites faced each other. Rasilvenaira offered only the slightest smirk and nodded in return.

“Quaestor.” She used his title, not a name, even though she knew it. She wouldn't afford him that courtesy...yet. That had to be earned. Until then he was just another challenge, another stepping stone as she honed her own ambitions.

The Battlelord gave a light, almost casual shrug of her right shoulder. “We aren't here to admire the scenery.” With a flick of her right wrist the molten silver blade of her saber snapped to life with an angry hiss. She took a step forward, probing the Quarren' circle of defense as she swept her saber around in a tight strike aimed for his left shoulder.

The tight strike clashed with Lexiconus’ shoulder hard and cut through his robes, and singed his leathery skin. He flailed and shrieked with agony as he fell, and dug his saberstaff into the ground. Flashes of emerald and orange scattered across the ancient rock as the lightsaber stabbed through the platform, while Lexiconus’ clumsy finger pressed the trigger.

Fear and shock washed over his mind, sure this would be his last breath. Lexiconus pushed to his feet and crawled away from the raven-haired woman in a desperate act of survival. Her expression remained focused and unmoving as her cold, dead eyes stared down at the Quarren. She was ready to gut him without a flinching thought, Lexiconus wasn’t phased by glares anymore. He had seen worse in the most sinister of men, and indeed from the same members who shared rooms with her in Excidium.

“Wait!” he shouted as he raised a pleading hand. “Give me time to ready myself again! Please!” Stumbling further backward, he felt rusted nails scrape the palms of his hands. Rope strained and tightened their chords as the weight of the Quarren pressed on them. Lexiconus peered up to look for something he could grab, and found the bridge’s bannister, he tugged himself onto his feet. With his saberstaff firmly in his dominant hand, his left foot led the backstep. He was ready again.

Rasilvenaira didn’t break focus as her lightsaber pounded away at Lexiconus’, shoving his saberstaff away with each blow. She was fast and overwhelming as her feet balanced effortlessly on the rickety and broken wood. Lexiconus stumbled and caught his boots in the gaps. The Massassi had clearly never returned to renovate this area because Lexiconus noticed that the ropes began to untie and snap from the weight. Rasilvenaira dominated the fight with her arcs of silver, her blade clashed against the Quarren’s basic and trivial blocks.

Lexiconus blocked and shoved the attacks back to the best of his ability but the Battlelord overwhelmed his strength and forced his lightsaber to slice the bridge apart. Rasilvenaira feared her demise as her eyes watched the wood buckle and fall from her dancing feet. To save her own life and his, she shoved her boot into Lexiconus’ chest and pushed him onto the second stone circle. The Quarren tumbled and rolled from his back and onto his stomach, his face squashed into the moss-layered stone. His saberstaff tumbled from his hand and rolled to the arena’s edge.

“Oh great,” he coughed. “I die with my last meal being mushrooms.”

Like a bird of paradise in the jungle, the Battlelord spun and glided over his body, she landed softly behind him. She was safe in the centre of this new arena. As Rasilvenaira deactivated her lightsaber and unhooked Arashi-Kumori, she cocked her head to the side and let out a small chuckle. The Battlelord approached the Quarren's tired body and watched him.

“I thought you were getting up. The Force knows I could do with more grovelling men. But please, not while we’re fighting?” She poked him with the tip of her blade and he jolted at the sharp edge, mumbling something about soft-skinned Humans. Lexiconus forced himself from his arms and up onto his feet, then recalled the saberstaff and ignited a single blade. The snap-hiss of the blade frightened a flock of flightless rainbow birds, which scurried into the bush.

“You are good at combat,” he nodded with appreciation, his smile growing. “But how skilled are you in the Force?”

When he shut off his saberstaff and planted it back on the magnetic pad, he extended his hands out and stepped back, towards the edge of the arena. As his eyes focused on her, Rasilvenaira also extended a hand and glared. His hands shook and wobbled, concentrating to grip her body, or at least lift it. The training he remembered from his master - to give into the truth and life around you. To feed on the living and thriving wilderness, and to let go of emotion. He let his emotions come to him, and fill his intentions to lift the Battlelord. Lexiconus strained and grunted as sweat dripped from his brow. Only her hooked lightsaber slowly lifted and wriggled in the air. He could sense her pleasure in this.

“Yes,” she spoke out which forced Lexiconus to look up at her. “I am skilled in the Force. I can make your greatest gift, into a trivial parlour trick.” She relaxed her arm and her face dropped into focus once more. Lexiconus grumbled at the thought of being compared to a court jester or thespian and grabbed his saberstaff again. He whipped the hilt and the emerald blade came to life. Rasilvenaira snatched her lightsaber from the hook and imitated him.

“Now taste mine!” she roared and stormed ahead, while her hand tossed Arashi-Kumori aside. Her off hand shot out and an aura of darkness consumed Lexiconus’ vision. The Quarren stumbled back and swung his blade around in an effort to protect himself, his boots kicked rubble off the edge of the ancient arena, into the ravine below. He slipped to his knees then his stomach was ripped by the scoured stone of the arena. The Quarren's poor balance cursed him. He caught the edge of the arena with his left hand, while his saberstaff dropped into the ravine. As if on instinct, Lexiconus extended his free hand and caught the weapon in mid-air.

“I can’t!” he groaned as the stone beneath his grip started to crumble. “Human, you can help me!”

Rasilvenaira studied her struggling opponent, and shook her head in disgust. She reached out her hand and called the Arashi-Kumori back to her as she allowed the darkness to fade. The Sith returned her weapon to its sheathe and considered the panicked Quarren.

“Help yourself, Quaestor, if you are truly worthy of the title. Otherwise, die like a pathetic puddle of gizka spit.” The Sith turned her back on the Seer and walked back to the center of the stone platform as the jungle around them grew hushed. The Battlelord kept her senses alert, expecting treachery of some sort from the Quarren.

Lexiconus flipped his saberstaff onto the platform and scrambled to pull himself back up before the eroded stone could topple into the ravine below. He paused on hands and knees, breathing hard as the fear of his near death moment subsided. Slowly, he pushed himself back up to his feet with both hands, wincing at the grit that scraped his palms. His sapphire eyes locked on the human female.

“We're part of the same Clan! We shouldn't be fighting. We need to work together.”

Rasilvenaira turned to face him, obsidian hued eyes holding nothing but disdain for the male before her. The only reply the Seer would be given was the faint metallic whisper as the Arashi-Kumori was drawn from its sheath. The Battlelord's cold gaze didn't waver as she took a step toward the Quarren, her free hand beckoning him onward.

The Seer shrugged and retrieved his saberstaff. He wasn't foolish enough to rush in against the lethal female. Lexiconus circled warily, keeping his weapon at the ready for whatever she intended. Rasilvenaira feinted toward him and he moved back quickly, only to realize it was simply a trick as she stepped back and continued to circle him.

Rasilvenaira stalked the Quaestor like a jungle predator as she circled slowly around him to his right. She kept forcing him to move to keep her in sight. The Sith kept only the barest focus on her opponent as he seemed disinclined to press the engagement. Instead, the Battlelord let her mind delve deep into the the currents of the Force that flowed through the vibrant jungle around them. With a small smirk, the Shadow seemed to vanish. In the distance, several high pitched cries gave voice some animal’s terror.

The Quarren blinked, searching the Force for some trace of his opponent. He whirled his saberstaff and spun around, seeking to counter the ambush that was surely coming. A vicious kick to his left knee and a quick slash to his exposed side came just as the Sith's form became visible again. Lexiconus yowled in pain and clutched his side. He staggered and attempted to keep his balance despite the sharp pain.

Seeing the almost accusatory glare in the Quarren's sapphire eyes, Rasilvenaira shrugged. “I am a Sith. Sith never play fair.” She shifted the Arashi-Kumori to her left hand as the hilt of her lightsaber dropped into her right hand. The argent blade snapped to life with an angry hum. The Equites' gazes locked and time seemed to pause for a long heartbeat before the female sprang into motion as she sought to put an end to the Quaestor.

Rasilvenaira pounced at Lexiconus and attacked mercilessly, her rapid attacks overwhelmed the Quarren at each parry. He panted and wheezed while his saberstaff tried to block the incoming blades, chipping the metal away slowly. She brought her lightsaber down from above and as Lexiconus lifted his arm to defend, the excruciating pain from his left side forced him to stumble and shake. Rasilvenaira slammed her lightsaber into his and shoved the Quarren onto his rear, while blood poured from his hand and seeped into his robes. The saberstaff deactivated as Lexiconus’ knees slammed into the rock with a heavy crunch.

“Ah, this is it,” he stuttered, as the pain from the wound slowly dissipated. Lexiconus tried his best in working his skills to repair the muscle, but it was a deep wound and likely scrapped an organ. Rasilvenaira smirked as she sheathed Arashi-Kumori back in its home, and slowly twirled her lightsaber.

“Yup, this is it. Any last words?” She asked. It only seemed polite. The Force weaved and knitted the muscle and skin together on the Quarren with ease, while the internal bleeding slowly began to build up. That had to do for the Quarren, as he didn’t have much time. The emerald blades ignited and swirled around him, as he grasped the hilt with both hands.

“I have no problem with killing you, I hope you know that?” Rasilvenaira sneered, her eyes locked onto his.

“I have no problem stopping you, this shouldn’t take long,” Lexiconus leapt forward and stabbed at her, baiting her attacks in. The Battlelord twirled herself around the saberstaff, reached for the hilt and grasped tightly. She used the pommel of her own lightsaber and slammed it into Lexiconus’ jaw, then made a clean up cut through his head. As she stepped away and yanked the saberstaff from his tight hands, the Quarren collapsed onto his knees and then to the floor, with blood pouring from the severed area. Rasilvenaira deactivated and clipped the saberstaff to her belt, then brought up her comms.

“Excidium command, come in Excidium command. I need a pickup from this rock, I’m getting bored waiting,” she said. A shuttle began to descend from the clouds and Rasilvenaira let out a sigh, daydreaming of a cold drink.