Rala And The Priest
Posted on Sat Oct 25th, 2025 @ 5:23am by Lieutenant JG Rala & Cass'e'Indira
Mission:
A Princess Of Tial
Location: Tial, somewhere on the surface
Timeline: Day 2 at Tial
Rala had been wandering around the market, her blonde-haired escort in tow, for twenty or thirty minutes, admiring the various goods on offer. A few pieces she’d been tempted by, and made mental notes to return to later, but even with their gracious hosts offering to pay for whatever caught her eyes, she hadn’t actually purchased anything yet.
She was, however, starting to get hungry. Turning to her escort, she said, “I can smell at least one food vendor nearby; which way?”
"That would be over to your left, My Lady." The young man in his late teens and sporting two chevrons under his eyes, "Shrovam on skewers with roasted vegetables, they are one of our food beasts and this one is very good."
“Sounds delicious,” Rala said, turning in the direction her escort had indicated and soon locating the vendor.
It wasn’t long before she’d acquired and quickly devoured two of the skewers, and was considering getting a third, when she noticed a small group of Tialans calmly but purposefully heading her way.
There were four of them that approached, all of them blonde and sporting two, three or four of the now familiar chevrons under their eyes, unerringly making their way towards the Draakri in the marketplace. Her guide/escort noticed them and the young man swiftly interposed himself between her and them, one hand on his sword hilt, another held up in mixed greeting/warning, “Halt, this Lady is under the protection of Baroness Light’s End and the Light of the Eastern Watch.” He stated firmly and confidently.
As the four, an even pair each of men and women, came closer, one stepped to the four, “Chodai.” He said with an inclination of his head, “We mean her no harm, we just wish to speak with her, if you would be willing, My Lady?” The last clearly addressed to Rala.
“Aye,” Rala said, nodding, “You all have been immensely gracious since we arrived; far be it from me not to return the favor. Please, speak your mind.”
"Thank you for your indulgence, My Lady." The man talking had three chevrons under his cheeks, the other male had four, the women three and two respectively and he inclined his head in respect, "We noticed that you are carrying four weapons rather than the one typical, or the two that Vermes'e'Solarn carries. Are you by chance fluent in any of the sword arts with them?"
Rala stifled a laugh down to a soft chuckle. “By your standards, I think ’arts’ would be a rather generous term. I have practiced with them some, but not enough to be comfortable wading into actual combat armed with naught else, and what formalized forms my people have for them—none of which I’ve properly studied—are meant more for solo exercise and meditation than fighting.”
She started to reach for one of her blades, then paused. “Uhm...would you like to see them? And, would it be appropriate to draw them here? I’m still learning your laws and customs, and I don’t wish to cause offense by mistake.”
"So long as you don't draw to strike, there is no offense to baring a blade." He stated as he drew his own in a flourish and presented it towards her across one forearm, edge facing away from Rala, "If you desired to take a look at one of ours, we would be honoured, My Lady."
“Seems like a fair trade,” Rala said. With careful motions, she took the offered blade from the Tialan with her first pair of arms, while simultaneously drawing the sword at her lower-right and presenting it to him in a similar manner.
He took the sword with both hands and examined it even as she took his own from him. The Tialan blade was just over a meter long with straight edges, the tip at a forty-five angle, only the back of it was not sharp enough to shave with. A single fuller on each side ran two-thirds the length from three inches to the tip. A modest handguard would keep someone from sliding their own blade down to take fingers or hands off, runes were etched into the base of the blade on each side.
The Draakri sword looked much like a Human cutlass, albeit with a slightly shorter, heavier blade. Two fullers ran nearly its entire length. While clean and well-polished, the metal didn’t quite present a mirror-like finish. “This approximate design became popular during our age of sail, several hundred years ago," Rala said. "At the time, it would have been made of simple iron-carbon steel; these are modern reproductions made from duranium, given to me as a gift when I left my homeworld."
He had stepped back as he slowly swung the borrowed blade through several motions, switching hands in mid-swing part way through, then balanced it on his fingers and used them to rotate the blade, "A little heavy towards the end of the blade, but not poorly so." Was his expert opinion, then did the courtesy of explaining his own weapon, "Each of our blades are crafted to the design desired of the wielder. Some prefer a heavier blade, others a more hefty haft. Our steel is a vanadium and titanium alloy that is light and agile."
"Single handed, double handed, skinny or broad, some of us prefer single blade, others dual-wield, yet none of the order of Bey could possibly consider wielding four at once and that prospect intrigues us." He hesitated for a moment, "Vermes does not speak all that much, but he was wondering if you may be willing to spar against him with your blades? It would not be a formal duel and you may decline with no dishonour intended."
Rala nodded at him as he got a feel for her cutlass. Glancing around to make sure she had the space to do so safely, she did the same with his, spinning it through a short pattern that was more showy than practical as if it weighed no more than a feather. “We Draakri are, on average, stronger than most other species the Federation has encountered, and—in my limited experience—tend to prefer heavier blades.” She offered him the hilt back, blade resting on her forearm. “A fine weapon, to my amateur judgment.”
She tilted her head at his request, pondering. She hadn’t expected to ever use these swords as more than show pieces; her occasional practice sessions were more for her own amusement than any desire to actually become a competent swordswoman. But, she thought, she was curious just how the balance of advantage and disadvantage would swing. She nodded. “Vermes, was it?” She looked among the group, clearly wondering which one she’d be up against.
The war priest with the two swords stepped forward and gave her a bow, the four chevrons under his cheeks indicating his rank among his people, “Yes, My Lady.” It was a low rumbling voice, “I would be honored if you would spar.”
Rala gave him a nod that stopped just short of being a bow. “Very well, I accept.” She looked at their surroundings, then turned back to Vermes and the rest of his group with a raised eyebrow. “I feel like there may be a more appropriate venue than the middle of the marketplace, though.”
“You might be surprised, My Lady, unless you are concerned about your level of control? If you are, there is an even open area perhaps a couple hundred meters away.” The original war priest offered, using what he believed was her rationale for not wanting to perform the practice here.
“From what I've witnessed, fights involving Draakri tend to wander,” Rala replied. “I'd hate to wind up damaging anyone's property or livelihood."
"Then if you will come with me, My Lady.” He gave a small smile as if not used to doing that, even while ignoring Rala’s escort entirely, “In the meantime, have you found your time on planet to be to your liking?”
“A change of pace, new sights to see, friendly new people to meet, and an interesting challenge to work on,” Rala replied, smiling. “If there's anything to complain about, I haven't found it yet.”
"Then hopefully we won't change your mind, My Lady." The priest stated as a ring about twenty meters in diameter came into view, "It's a formal location if there are any disputes, either duels or even adjudications."
Rala stopped outside the circle and stretched every which way she could. Given how long it had been since she’d last practiced any swordplay, she’d need every advantage she could get.
She stepped into the circle and drew her swords, giving all four of them a quick spin to help loosen up her wrists. As she’d said before, she wasn’t very studied in swordplay; but while she may be an amateur, she was at least confident that she wouldn’t hurt herself with them. And who knew? Perhaps extra limbs and unpredictability would suffice. “So, how do we begin?” she asked, stepping up to one of the marks on the ground and taking the first ready stance that came to mind.
The priest that had been talking to her the entire time stepped into the ring to a point to the side, but between her and Vermes, who'd taken stance at the other mark, both of his own blades out. One was readily apparent as a longsword, three and a half feet long, broad in the center and both edges coming to a point in the center of the blade, the other shorter at two feet long and curved near the edge. The reason for the curve was apparent as he held it in a reverse grip and the curve came at his elbow joint. "As neither of you are warmed up, begin slowly until you're comfortable with the pace and style. This isn't a duel, we do not wish to harm each other intentionally."
Rala nodded at the statement and took a deep breath, which was mirrored by Vermes, who inclined his own head at the priest. "Begin." He stated and stepped away. Slow as had been commanded, the first move of Vermes caught Rala by surprise in it's speed, bringing a side of her weapons around in a block that barely intercepted the blade in time. She knew that the thought of her being able to use the four weapons independent of each other in a coordinated manner was exciting, but she wasn’t that good.
Seemingly noticing that his strike had almost struck true, Vermes slowed his movements even further, beginning a series of slow slashes that she was able to block with relative ease and gradually began to speed up, adding in several new moves in quick succession, telegraphing his moves so that she could see what he was intending to do. Over the course of several minutes he brought the speed of his strikes up to something resembling a normal speed, inviting attacks in turn, blocking the few thrown at him as he also gauged her skill levels, the backed off for a few seconds, setting himself back into his combat stance until she did the same.
Then they began in earnest, while he still telegraphed his moves, they became more complicated, forcing Rala to move in unexpected ways to block them, still mostly using each side's arms in their movements, but occasionally had to use a single arm and blade, the other instinctively moving in another direction, forcing him to defend even while he attacked. The reaction speed he had seemed nearly unworldly. They danced around each other as they fought, Rala forcing him to step over a blade sweep intended to cut a leg out from under him, the opposite side coming the opposite direction, making him duck beneath it in a very awkward movement. His sword flicked in, scraping along her stomach with the flat of the blade, turned that way at the very last moment before impact.
He came out of the motion as Rala flicked her swords in his direction, catching him out of position to defend and as the fabric under his pauldron ripped, a red line formed and began to soak into the cloth. It didn't seem to bother him one bit as he regained his balance and started back in on the offensive, the dance going on as he threw even more attacks and parries while trying to get through her defenses again. He finally threw her off-balance with her blades all in location and the curve of his second blade capturing them for the fraction of a second as the thrust of the sword found it's way in, biting into her side before the blade flipped to the flat again.
Rala backed a few steps away, wincing, and raised two swords slightly in acknowledgement of Vermes’ hit before sheathing them. She held up one hand in a ‘wait’ gesture and checked her wound. It was shallow, more annoying than dangerous.
Vermes took his own two steps away from her, back towards the nearest mark on the ground, tip of his sword dipping towards the ground, grounding his back foot to ready himself again, "Apologies, My Lady, for my mistake." He pointedly ignored his own injury "Do you wish to stop?"
“I’m fine to keep going, if you are,” she answered, drawing her swords again. “Fair warning, though, I might start fighting dirty.” She grinned as she dropped into a crouch. She whipped her tail, drawing a pop from its tip; and dug the claws of one foot into the ground while sliding the foot backward slightly, leaving furrows in the ground.
The dour look on Vermes's face turned upwards into a smile, one that promised her that he would enjoy every moment of what was yet to come, "Then I shall not hold back myself." The tip of the longsword came back up, pointed at Rala's throat, "Shall we?"
Even though the invitation gave her the option to move first, the two moved effectively simultaneously, the clash of swords coming fast and furious. His two swords nearly seemed to be four as he blocked, parried and counterattacked just to be parried and blocked in turn, both fighters advancing and retreating as they went back and forth. The first snap of the tail came as a surprise, knocking one leg out from under Vermes, but he took the loss of his balance and turned it into a move that brought one blade around the entire direction to back between the two of them.
The next time the tail came around, he was ready for it, lifting the target leg to let the appendage pass beneath, combining it with an effortless thrust that didn't have much behind it, but was only intended to keep her back, which succeeded as she took one step back, but only the one, before he pressed the attack again, blades whirling as if trying to attack her from every angle all at once. A glow was emanating from him at this point as he sought a weak spot, but through a heroic effort, Rala kept interposing her own blades between her hide and his edges. Vermes tried a leg sweep of his own, but was rebuffed as her superior ground grip only let her leg budge a fraction of an inch.
Her counterattack pushed him back, followed by a swipe from her clawed left foot, making him dodge to the right and have to parry an artful sweep from her own weaponry. He moved like liquid gold in what looked to be four dimensions as she combined a tail strike with contrasted sword strikes, avoiding being touched by bare fractions in at least three directions, landing on one foot and going to a knee, then immediately rolling forward towards her with an upwards thrust towards her throat that he arrested just as it touched her. He felt the tip of a blade prick his chest from just above where the armor started as he came to a stop, the start of warmth dribbling down. "Got you." He said softly.
“And I you,” Rala said, panting. At some point she’d reversed her grip on the sword in her lower-left hand, and now held its hilt by her right cheek, opposite hand resting against the pommel, ready to throw her weight into driving the blade downward. Her upper pair of arms were spread to the sides; the left, with its sword point-down, having stopped in an attempted sweeping parry; the right extended forward and to the side, edge turned inward, as if for preparing a sweeping slash toward the Priest’s neck. She made an effort to calm her breathing and pulled back by a centimeter or two, moving her torso away from the tip of the longsword and her own blade away from her opponent’s skin.
His hand remained steady as the heavy blade remained at the base of her throat, then he cocked his wrist, the tip of the blade angling away from that most vulnerable point, giving her an opening to do the same.
Only then did Rala let herself noticeably relax as she took a full step back, giving him another salute before lowering her swords.
Vermes came up to his own feet, taking the same step back and completely ignoring the blood staining his shirt above the armor, taking his swords and rotating them until they were held in a reverse grip and vertical behind him. His eyes remained on her and he gave her a careful bow, "That would be a draw, My Lady, my congratulations to you."
She returned the bow, then noticed the trickle of blood her sword had drawn at the end. She immediately gave her swords a flick and sheathed them. “You're bleeding. Are you okay?"
"This?" He had sheathed his own blades as she had, marking the formal end of the duel, then reached up to swipe across his chest, taking a look at the smear it came out with, "Nothing to concern yourself with, only a scratch, I've had far worse." His smile was broad and genuine, "Perhaps at some point in the future I might ask for a rematch? This was fun."
“Perhaps, should the opportunity arise,” Rala said, her breathing beginning to slow. “I’ll definitely have to practice more first, though.”
"As shall I, My Lady." Vermes bowed again and turned to leave, quickly meeting up with his three associates and they walked off chatting and laughing amongst themselves, though the original and highest ranking priest turned to give Rala a bow of respect and thanks.
The young escort hesitated before crossing over the boundary marker and cleared his throat to gain her attention, "My Lady, are you all right?"
“It doesn’t feel too bad,” Rala said, pressing a hand over her wound, “but I’ll need to partially disrobe in order to properly check it.” She could tell the wound was still bleeding slightly, leaving a purple stain on her uniform.
“Do you need a priest of Urd, My Lady?” He asked, glancing around for anyone with the proper markings on left hand and arm, but not seeing anyone, “If you so desire, I can take a look at the wound to see if it’s serious, but it doesn’t appear to be from this view, not enough blood to constitute a major injury. You handled yourself very well in the spar.”
Rala shook her head, setting off back the way they’d come. “I wouldn’t object to being seen by one; but a sterile bandage, or something to use as one, will suffice until I can return to my ship.”
"That can be arranged, My Lady." The young priest pulled a packet out of the inside of his armor, opening the leather pouch and pulling out a wrapped bandage of some sort, "We carry these around in case of injury, My Lady, because we never know when one is needed."
Rala nodded. “Then all that’s missing is...well, like I said, I’ll need to partially disrobe, and doing so in public is...shall we say, frowned upon in most parts of the Federation.”
"For an injury, it is permissible, especially after a duel." He stated, moving around to where the injury was.
Rala stripped down to the waist, save for her bra, and took a closer look at her wound. It wasn’t deep, and certainly not life-threatening, but the bandage now and a visit to Sickbay once she was back on the ship would certainly be in order.
"That doesn't look bad, My Lady, naught but a scratch." The priest used an antiseptic cloth to clean the wound for Rala, then applied the bandage to the wound, before stepping back from her, "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go, My Lady?"
“Back to the shuttle, I think,” she said, before adding, “With a quick detour back to that food vendor. Exercise makes me hungry, and those skewers were quite good.”
Many thanks to Cap for writing out the fight scense, including 'puppeting' Rala for the actual fighting. I still consider action scenes to be one of my weak points. I should really work on that...
-- Silvia/Rala
