The empty cold vast space is as dangerous, if not more, as a blade cutting through a person. The sun blasting its light throughout this system, as the view changes slowly to a planet embodied by this light. A dark blue with thick clouds and lush life on its surface. Ships of unknown origin, features, and rough shapes hang motionless, waiting on something. The view is interrupted as a green, metallic ship knifes across the frame and towards this beautiful planet. The red engines pulsing, the rough shape and battle scars on its hull. The logo of Klingon Empire proudly painted on the side of its hull.

The dark red bridge pulses with life as its crew perform their duties. Ohash looks up from the console, “We are arriving, my lord, at the planet called Vraxir Prime.” He sees a message on the console “They reserve a spot in orbit for their honored guest of this festive” Ohash looked at the sensors “It seems a few B’rels of House Dukar and Qavang are here”.

Vor’aq sits in the chair looking at the screen with a cup of blood wine in his hand. With a smooth motion left and right, letting the liquid spin around as his focus was not broken. “Move us in orbit, lagh” He smirks and knew that this was their moment to shine. Taking a sip of the last blood win as he lets the burning feeling go down his throat. He stood up and lets a drop of the blood wine go onto the deck, “Let honor feast upon our house, prestige without shame. We shall go victorious out of this challenge” A custom, ritual that House Qabhi always did before entering a challenge seep through the generations and Vor’aq as not going to ignore it.

He places the cup on his chair “Get the away team ready, we can’t let them wait” Vor’aq smirks as he was excited about the prospect of this mission. A mission that was built on honor and ritual combat. But he did glance at the screen, making note of the Toral allied ships, “Let’s move”.

Vraxir Prime – Talvereth

The Klingon shuttle softly lands at the designated platform. Talvereth, the capital city of Vraxir Prime, the city is build into the Volcanic Caldera, shaped as a terraced capital as the shuttled arrived at the so-called Harbor Serpent. The door puffs open as the away team walks out in their armor and fearless facial expression. The representatives guide them to the first platform.

While walking through the busy roads, they feast their eyes on what they see. The iron-red stone road, with slate black and copper glints in between its stone layers. The smell of hot stone, oil smoking of nearby stands, brine from the nearby bay. They get explained that the festival history and the three fixed platforms. The Kareth Circle, simple and made out of stone, the Malkar Gantry that is movable by modular rails and finally the Varrin Step is shaped as a tiered dais.

Baro looked at the side seeing the flags of the different worlds, but also other banners “My lord, Koloth and Toral banners” She nods in the direction.

“It shows their indifference of alliance, no preference in who would gain from this. Equal rights and respect” J’esord smiles, “They approach our participation with honor” Looking at Vor’aq “Both are potentially viewed as a benefit to their people. Toral is more expansion focus, while Koloth more discipline and treaties”.

Not letting himself be distracted, Vor’aq nods, “We are here for Koloth, the ability to gain public prestige and oaths without breaking these people accord is important. Honor first, spectacle last” He sees his team nod in unison.

Arrived at the Kareth Circle, Vor’aq provides a whetstone to the judge as a token of functional respect and receives the trial-token, granting them access to the festival activities.

W’ekras looked around “There are minimal honor guards, their weapons are focus on keeping the peace, rather to violate it with blood”

The broad-shouldered, tall even for Vraxiri, posture like a spear, upright and wealthy dressed. Cranial ridges carry oath-rings, that are shaped in thin metal bands, threaded along the side ridges. His skin is burnished copper tone with clan striations inked darker across the cheekbones. Wearing an Accord cloak that is slate-black, sleeveless, bracers of copper and a belt with the oath seal on it. He holds a wooden-staff and a tablet of sorts. He looked at everyone carefully, with ambition and certain excitement as he speaks“ Discipline within the Accord, steel obeys law”.

The crowd is excited, it has started, as they hunger for a spectacle with not only their people but the strength of these new arrivals. Baro eyes her side,“ Toral war band is present”  She murmurs.

Moments later they stand at the chalked boundary rings, sandy foundation with a judge standing at the border holding the staff “Rules that are agreed on by the warlords, decreed by the Warlord of Warlord. Opponents fight to first to yield, no dishonor” He looked at the Vraxiri warrior that nodded and then at Vor’aq standing there giving the same nod. “Begin”

Vor’aq brushes his finger past a scare, an honorable scar-salute, before he walks forward.

“Honor stands. Blood stays” The warrior spoke as he moves forward towards Vor’aq. With controlled footwork, grip changes and quick kill-line that pulled into a clean disarm. As victor was to that of Vor’aq, not facial expression shown, as he retreats to his stand.

While there was respect for the win, a Toral partisan spits on the ground with his arms crossed “A typical coward’s mercy” but Vor’aq ignored it.

It did agitate the Vraxiri warrior and walked to the judge, “I file for forbidden-grip!”

The judge leans on the staff and looked at the warrior, the man looked calm and shows his wisdom in his demeanor. “I defer ruling to dawn” a custom with the Vraxiri to provide enough time to investigate the fight that only took mere minutes to finish.

Council Platform

Wind-torn pennants that move in the rhythm of the winds, stacked tablets and judge-bells. A Warlord sits at the table as Vor’aq and the rest of his team stands there. Hands behind their back and not on the hilt of their weapons, showing the respect of authority. “My title and name is Warlord Varrek Talan, I am the overseer of these qualifications in this area. Now, I get straight to points Hod Qabhi. Otherworldly victories are perhaps for your politics with muscle, but here is this spectacle of yours risks riots”.

The ring etiquette were not violated in Vor’aq opinion, so Toral allied houses might already have a finger in the situation. “We honor the ways of your people, steel that obeys the Accord at all cost. We are here to train, to exchange and perhaps forge better steel between our people, Warlord Talan”.

Tapping on the table, he looked at Vor’aq, but before he could respond, J’esord speaks with his political experience. “While we do not want to dictate your ways, Warlord. We are here to learn, why not do a composite trial to contain the rivalry and tempers its rise”.

“I appreciate your mediation in setting this right, but the judge is to conclude the results at dawn. Respect Accords, as you respect our tradition right now. I look forward to your ascension if the judge favors your side”  Varrek spoke, dismissing them.

Plaza Steps

The team sits at the plaza with scribes that records the competitions of the day. Members of House Dukar chant at them “Losing with a mere forbidden grip, pathetic. Like all, you Koloth dogs”.

Baro shrugs and stood up looking at them,“ Honor the Audit at dawn, your suggestion is dishonor their tradition.”

Seeing the warriors at the table laugh and sniffle at that statement, “Like that will save your judgment”

“Sogh sit down” Vor’aq orders calmly “We are here to behave, respect their cultural ways and you should know better to let yourself be taken by their pathetic taunts” Vor’aq sits down in her chair crossing her arms “Good, we shall await the judgment at dawn, but this means our battles are to be precise and calculated. Don’t give them a reason to dishonor us” Seeing slow nods from everyone.

This wait is going to be tiring, their mockery is for show, but it won’t break his crew, not on Vor’aq watch.