Faction Bushido | Iron Covenant

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

Senec Ahn-Dross
Kestri | Cin'haastal Mountains
TAG: Yael Kandar
GEAR: Beskar'gam | Vibrosword

---

The Vibrosword swung on a diagonal, always testing the beskad of Yael Kandar until she wasn't there anymore.

A backhand had meant to continue the pressing assault but Yael had ducked down leaving the blade to pass overhead where it would ride the momentum of its swing into a tight arc to begin bringing it back around again.

Yael hooked with her beskad. It curled back around behind Senec's thigh just beneath his hip and already on unsteady legs he felt himself almost reeling forward uncontrollably. He'd save himself by planting his foot into the snow ahead of the other and putting his weight on it to create a stronger vertical base for himself.

Dipping his head to track his opponent he'd have muttered...

"Atiniir."

...reminding himself to take the pain that was to come, to accept the cold bite of the wind against his brow.

The Vibrosword had deactivated, the hum dying in the wind sweeping over the arena. Senec rolled his wrist inwards as his weapon arced back around from its previous blow and he attempted to similarly hook with it. Trying to wrap it back around Yael's upper shoulders just beneath her neck, flat against her for stability while his free hand passed around to clasp the blade in what was attempting to become something of a modified clinch using the weapon instead of the hands and arms.

Senec was quick to follow with a driving knee as he brought his rear leg forward and up.

 

[Yael Kandar]

BUSHIDO
A Brave New World - Chapter 1

GEAR: Beskad, Beskar’gam
ENGAGING: Senec Ahn-Dross

BLACK HOLE SUN​

KESTRI

Yael's breath hitched, trapped behind the cold metal of her collar as he hauled her into the clinch. She was being out-muscled, out-positioned, and the desperation began to claw at the back of her throat like a physical weight.

As his knee drove upward, Yael couldn't clear the distance in time. She twisted her hips, taking the brunt of the impact against the reinforced plate of her thigh rather than her stomach, but the force still sent a jolt of white-hot pain through her leg.

Move, haran, she snarled at herself, the thought a frantic command to limbs that felt made of lead. Her boots skidded in the slush, nearly losing her footing as she grappled with him.

Desperate, she dropped her weight, slamming her shoulder upward into his chest to create a fraction of space, just enough to bring the hilt of her beskad up in a desperate, blunt strike aimed at the gap beneath his arm.​

DICE ROLL: 10 (I HATE JORGE)

 

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

Senec Ahn-Dross
Kestri | Cin'haastal Mountains
TAG: Yael Kandar
GEAR: Beskar'gam | Vibrosword

---

Uneven footing hadn't done him any favors, thus far he had only managed to take advantage of it slightly better than Yael Kandar .

The slush from snow was slick beneath his feet, generated by their desperate movements.

When Yael dropped her center of balance Senec reeled forward due to the improvised clinch he was maintaining. Her shoulder followed, catching him in the chestplate and causing him to reel backwards with his hand releasing the deactivated blade of the vibrosword in the process to free her from the clinch. The Beskad's hilt caught the outside of his chestplate as well, scraping across it rather than burying deep into the crevice of his armpit as he went backwards.

Senec regained his footing after a backpace or two, his heeling finding purchase in snow that had been densely packed due to being stepped on but hadn't quite transformed into slush yet.

The Vibrosword began to hum again, reactivated.

Senec's chest rose as he breathed, a slight throb registering.

He'd rock forward, pressing off his heel to come right back at Yael hoping to give her no time to recover. No quarter as it were for better or for worse.

Flurrying with the vibrosword he'd come close, attempting to clash with her beskad and lock it into a contest of positioning low, off to one side of them while his free hand rose and flashed across his face like he was wiping his mouth in an attempt whip a hard elbow across the side of her jaw.
[/div]

 

[Yael Kandar]

BUSHIDO
A Brave New World - Chapter 1

GEAR: Beskad, Beskar’gam
ENGAGING: Senec Ahn-Dross

BLACK HOLE SUN​

KESTRI

The elbow caught her with the weight of a falling beam, snapping her head back and sending a white-hot flash through her vision. Already compromised, Yael's legs finally buckled into the freezing slush.

She hit the packed snow hard, the air driven from her lungs in a gasp that tasted of metal and ozone. Her beskad slipped from her numbing fingers, clattering into the ice just out of reach as the world tilted and blurred at the edges.

Sprawled in the red-tinged slush, Yael didn't try to rise again. She simply stared up at Senec's looming silhouette, her chest heaving, the fight finally drained from her leaden limbs.​

DICE ROLL: 12 (I HATE JORGE)

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Round 2 – Weapons of Choice

@Senec Anh-Dross vs Seva Beroya — Polearms

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

​

KESTRI | CIN’HAASTAL MOUNTAINS
TAG:
OPPS: Siv Dragr​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

There was something about the feel of a hammer when it found purchase against a foe. Normally, the crack within the armor would reverberate through its haft, followed by the tell-tale sound of something shattering underneath it. In this case, Kjartan’s hammer struck home, but as one would expect - Siv’s armor was not your standard grade. He saw a small wince of pain in his opponent’s eyes followed by a growl, yet the seasoned warrior was still very much in the fight.

Kjartan attempted to capitalize on his success and press the attack with another strike - this time with his right hammer, aimed at Siv’s opposing pauldron. Yet the warrior was able to duck just below the strike and activate his jetpack - putting distance between the two men. Kjartan was in the throes of combat, and began charging toward his foe yet again; unwilling to allow Siv to control the nature of the duel. Even still, it would take half a second longer than normal, which would give Siv time to capitalize as Kjartan bounded forth, attempting to body-check the man in the process.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

​

 

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

Senec Ahn-Dross
Kestri | Cin'haastal Mountains
TAG: Seva Beroya
GEAR: Beskar'gam | Bevii'ragir

---

Yael Kandar fell, the beskad slipping from her grasp signifying the end of their duel.

While other Mando'ade entered the arena to retrieve Yael, carrying her off the field of combat Senec took the moment to breathe.

He'd regain any amount of stamina spent in his duel with Yael that he could. At one point his head tipped back and he embraced the cold wind and snow that touched his features.

An Attendant would come onto the field of the arena to retrieve the vibrosword from him and replace it with a Bevii'ragir, a traditional Mandalorian Hunt Spear. Senec scrunched his nose in response, he knew polearms but preferred a melee weapon such as the sword he'd been using or the beskad that his opponent had wielded. Nonetheless he would need to make the best of it for the next match.

The Bevii'ragir felt cumbersome, likely due to the counterweight on its butt. He flexed his fingers around the shaft to ensure his grip was sufficient.

Across the arena when he saw Seva Beroya enter he'd have let his gaze examine her briefly before offering her an acknowledgement similar to the one that began his previous match...

"Vod."

...an introspective man Senec, like his father didn't seem to mince words. It would have come out awkwardly if he did anyways.

By now the unease of his legs had started to fade a little though the ground still felt cumbrous to him.

He'd move towards Seva carefully, small steps at first to lessen the distance between them but once he'd covered half the divide he'd sprint towards her.

As he moved he'd slide his hands over the shaft of the Bevii'ragir, repositioning them so that he could lift the hunting spear over his head, swinging it back around behind himself in the process as his elbows cocked forward.

His hands slid towards tip of the spear, right over left leaving three quarters of a foot from the meat of his left hand to the tip itself.

When he'd almost come at her he leapt, swinging the spear that he'd angled back behind himself forward in the process and attempting to drive the counterweight down into her chest in the process.

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Kestri
​

Tag: Kjartan Hammer-Hand

The Hammer-hand wanted blood today. Siv gritted his teeth as his opponent came charging at him without hesitation; his jetpack burst had only put a couple of meters between them. The bounty hunter veteran longed for his blaster; there was nothing more asinine than watching someone charge you, knowing that it would only take a well-placed blaster bolt to cut him down. Rules were rules.

He had a moment to act, to seize the upper hand. There were old bounty hunters, and there were bold bounty hunters. Siv, against all odds, was both by luck of the Manda. His fighter's instincts had seen him through many battles of improbable odds.

Kjartan would expect him to retreat, most likely. Siv did the opposite. He reignited his jetpack, leaping towards the charging behemoth, but aimed his right hand at his opponent's feet and fired a sonic blast from his vambrace. The attack would spray snow against Kjartan's face to impede his field of vision, and may even cause the Mandalorian to stumble if he himself was caught by the sonic blast. Siv wouldn't wait to see, planting himself to Kjartan's own left and, using both hands for extra strength, swinging with all his might against Kjartan's side, aiming the head of the mace to hit Kjartan's abdomen right above the stomach, against the firm wall of his ribcage. It was a gamble; he wasn't a praying man, but desire silently wept from inside in that one clear moment before an impact.

Spoiler: Rolls

• #1: 7
• #2: 15

Sum: 22

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

Vambraces
Tusurki'aa Ta'hye Beskad
O'dteyase Saranuhlr
M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol
M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle
M.I. 'Pulsar' jetpack
KestrisaurHide Utility Belt and Duster
Rulariyi Mandalorian Sunglasses

Vreegan Fett was visably upset, for whatever reason. Sahan could tell. But neither warrior chose to say anything. This was a fight, after all, not a speech contest. There was no need to say anything.

Lance met lance as the two traded blows, sparks of electricity flying about. As Sahan lunged forward, he slipped ever so slightly again. He had gotten so used to having armor with inertia compensators. A weakness he needed to overcome.

It gave just enough room for the tip of Fett's shock lance to catch Sahan's knuckles. He dropped the lance as a powerful blow from his opponent's beskar pauldrons slammed into his ribs, sending him flying a few meters back and sliding face-down in the snow.

Feth, that was a good hit. Much as he hated it, he had to respect it. He quickly climbed to his feet. He popped his dislocated shoulder back into place, but there was nothing he could do about his broken ribs right now. They'd have to heal on their own.

But he wasn't out of the fight just yet. He made a swift dash towards Fett, ignoring the pain. He did a double feint and slid — on purpose this time — to grab his dropped lance and try to knock Fett's legs out from under him.

Vreegan Fett may have be fighting like it was a blood duel, but it didn't phase Sahan one bit. The man was a fool if he thought a Dragr could permanently be taken out that easily. Sahan especially.

11
2

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Brent Warnel

That long stand-still of motion had eventually come to a flurry of motion. As he drew his pistol, however, he had to suddenly adjust for the impact of bolts that came before he managed to pull the trigger—ones that resounded against the beskar plate of his chest with a strained song. The reason for such was visible in the blur of vision a’fore him. It was one notable difference that Carduul hadn’t fired from the hip, instead trying to extend his arm to be fully braced before pulling the trigger. He was certainly not the one who shot first this day—but at he very least, his shots that came thereafter struck nonetheless. Another bolt impacted against his frame just as he ducked for cover, hitting him square in the shoulder just before it managed to pull behind stone. A harsh breath was taken from the blooming bruise that would undoubtedly be sore once adrenaline wore off.

Just as he was about to poke out to return fire, a suppressive burst chipped the stone just above where his head would’ve been. He had to be bold if he was to get out of this- and so he took action. Blindly, he would wrap his arm around the boulder and fire a spray in the vague direction.

In doing so, he hoped to create an opening to transition to another set of cover- this one felt far too exposed as his opponent closed the distance. Stepping out with a sharp dash, he had circled around Brent as the other did the same, exchanging blaster fire directed towards whatever exposed body parts were visible. It was all the more likely the distance was closing between them, amidst the firefight…

Roll 1: 6
Roll 2: 18

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Vreegan's eyes scanned the HUD as the overlays informed him of skeletal stress on his opponent Sahan Dragr , enough to tell him that his engagement would be over quickly if the Field Marshal kept up the pressure to take advantage of the dislocated shoulder, as the predication grid locked on the coming slide before Sahan's knees even bent.

He had been told that Clan Dragr produced formidable fighters, but apparently it musted have skipped this generation for his opponent never went for his helmet, as a single thrust to the faceplate while he was distracted would break the internal overlays, forcing him to rely on his eyes which could easily be blinded or miss important details.

Sahan's slide was fast, with the lance sweeping for the ankles in a move to get him off-balanced but he simply used the momentum aided with tactical relays to slam his left boot down, beskar sole biting permafrost like an anchor.

The Shock lance in his hands reversed in a blur, weighted butt first before driving it straight down into the path of Sahan's weapon. Electricity arced between the two lances in a jagged blue curtain.

Followed up by him pivoting inside the sweep, closing the distance in a single armored stride. The reinforced pauldron still humming from the earlier collision slammed into Sahan's already shattered ribs like a battering ram.

Post 3 of 3 = Total: 23

Spoiler: Combat Roles

 

[Brent Warnel]

TAGS: Carduul Akahl ​

Brent knew he had a slight leg up on Mand'alor with the hip fire at the start of their bout. It was only a momentary advantage, but it put Carduul on the back foot, and now he was working harder to get back on his feet. It was an advantage Brent would continue to exploit.

As Brent rolled out wide to flank, the warrior in Carduul took action, bursting away from his cover and firing toward Brent. The shots were not particularly precise, but more to keep his head down. Still, Carduul was a veteran soldier, and even blind shots at Brent were enough to send several impacts into Brent's Beskar, the armor heating as it devoured the rounds, saving him from what would otherwise be lethal shots.

Brent felt his skin heat under the armor. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but he loved it. The pain of failure, of not maneuvering out of the way, of letting someone get the better of him, gave him a slight berserk rage he would utilize. His mind gorged on the pain, pushing him faster as he continued to hound his old friend.

Brent saw Carduul's legs churn the snow up as he wheeled away from his static position, attempting to flank Brent the same way Brent was flanking him. Brent saw the armor and cloak of Carduul as he attempted to circle, and Brent did the only thing he could think of to stop his friend from getting a better advantage.

Instead of a sideways sprint to flank, Brent's booted feet changed direction and crunched through the snow as he sprinted directly at Carduul, cutting him off. Carduul's blaster bolts were coming quicker as Brent closed the distance. The impacts rocking him, burning him, but not stopping him. As Brent was almost on top of the other man, he did what he hoped the other man would not expect. He dropped to his butt, leg forward and slid toward the other Mandalorian. He leaned his torso back, using the snow to slide at a rapid pace toward Carduul as he brought his arm up, blaster trained on Carduul's upper torso.

When Brent had the best view of Carduul he would get with his little maneuver, he pulled the trigger as fast as possible, dumping bolt after bolt into Mand'alor's upper torso in an effort to end the fight as he soared across him.

Roll 1: 14
Roll 2: 19
Roll 3: 17

Spoiler: Dice Roll

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

​

KESTRI | CIN’HAASTAL MOUNTAINS
TAG:
OPPS: Siv Dragr​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

Kjartan would expect him to retreat, most likely. Siv did the opposite. He reignited his jetpack, leaping towards the charging behemoth, but aimed his right hand at his opponent's feet and fired a sonic blast from his vambrace. The attack would spray snow against Kjartan's face to impede his field of vision, and may even cause the Mandalorian to stumble if he himself was caught by the sonic blast. Siv wouldn't wait to see, planting himself to Kjartan's own left and, using both hands for extra strength, swinging with all his might against Kjartan's side, aiming the head of the mace to hit Kjartan's abdomen right above the stomach, against the firm wall of his ribcage. It was a gamble; he wasn't a praying man, but desire silently wept from inside in that one clear moment before an impact.

As Kjartan closed the distance, weapons outstretched, Siv would be correct that he did not expect what happened. As Siv charged forth with his jetpack and broke the terms of their melee by using the sonic weapon built into the vambrace of his armor, Kjartan’s teeth gritted in a silent curse. The sonic blast erupted barely a foot in front of the pirate, causing him to stumble back and nearly lose his footing. Snow was cast all about him, obscuring his vision, and leaving him open for the second attack launched by his opponent.

He almost didn’t see the attack until the last moment, but he felt every bit of it. The unforgiving mace-head crashed into the left of his cuirass with a mighty thud. It was not a completely square strike though, given the way Kjartan was thrown backward from the sonic blast, but he could still feel the blow even through the master-crafted Beskar’gam. A loud CLAAANG echoed through the valley, and Kjartan let out a loud grunt of pain. His armor possessed similar impact dampers to his opponent, which barely prevented his ribcage from buckling or his ribs breaking. But he knew there was probably a fracture there, and he could only imagine the size of the bruise that would develop.

But the fight was not over, not yet.

And now, Siv had awoken the Hammer-hand.

Kjartan’s left arm clamped down on the mace that struck his side, and as he winced through the pain - he lashed out with a jab from his right hammer - the top end of the head jutting forth to punch into the head of his opponent, clearly intending to stun him with a sort of sucker punch. Then, Kjartan would follow up the attack by letting go of his hold, and twisting the left-hand hammer to the spiked end as he brought it low and swung - much like a farmer reaping grain with a scythe, but instead aiming to hook Siv’s heel and swing him up and backwards to lie flat against the snow.

The finally, with a mighty roar, Kjartan would rear back and slam the flat end of his hammer downward - aiming for what would hopefully be Siv’s exposed chestplate; as though the old raider were reforging the plate with the man still in it.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

Spoiler: Third Roll

​

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Round 2
Kjartan Hammer-Hand vs. Signy Bralor -- Combat Daggers/Knives

 

[Seva Beroya]

VORNSKR
ARENA | KESTRI
TAG: Senec Ahn-Dross
GEAR: Polearm

VICARIOUS​

She'd been watching.

A Beroya would be remiss not to. The Talz had taught her better than that. So when Senec finally won the fight against Yael, Seva had already moved toward the arena entrance. She knew next to nothing of Yael that was carried off past her, but she had spunk at least.

Then it was her turn.

A polearm was given to her as she passed through the entrance. As she marched into the arena proper, she felt its weight in her hand. She was no stranger to them - after all, she and the clan had continuous training with the Talz to better both their melee as well as their riding on the Narglatches. In both cases, polearms were used excessively.

In theory, she'd be fine now too.

"Vod."

Her black helmet inclined towards him in greeting.
"To a good fight, Vod." she answered as she finally stopped a distance from him.

She instinctively fell into a light, defensive stance. Like her predator companion, she preferred to watch her prey move first - and she didn't have to wait long. Her keen eyes watched as he first shuffled forward before he burst into action.

And she waited for him.

Just as he leapt toward her with a thrust, she was ready to merely step to the side and let his momentum carry him past. As he would travel past her, her hands slid with practiced ease to aim a thrust at his side as her feet moved through the snow in tandem to carry the thrust while also being ready to move again.

Spoiler: Rolls

Round 1: 15

​

 

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

Senec Ahn-Dross
Kestri | Cin'haastal Mountains
TAG: Seva Beroya
GEAR: Beskar'gam | Bevii'ragir

---

In retrospective he should have attempted a more measurable approach.

Flying past Seva Beroya he'd have landed on a knee in the snow before a thrust from her polearm into his side caught him hard and forced the wind from his lungs as it caught a soft spot in his armor.

She'd made him pay for his dramatic and ill conceived opening.

Almost in tandem with the blow Senec was falling onto his side and turning onto his back, discomfort evident as it cut across his expression...

"Osi'kyr."

...he'd manage through gritted teeth. When he sucked in a breath through his nose causing his chest to rise he felt the burn in his side.

Nonetheless he'd come around onto his back, whipping his Bevii'ragir out in the process in an attempt to catch Seva behind one of the legs and sweep her onto her back while he rose back onto his feet...

 

[Signy Bralor]

SIGNY BRALOR
OUTER RIM | THE PIRATE'S MOON
TAG: Kjartan Hammer-Hand
VISIBLY PRESENTING: Deliberately ambiguous - fully armoured

The teenager was buzzing off of her first bout, she had faith in her abilities but was not one to underestimate a vastly more experienced foe. But she had prevailed, and quite handily too. She checked the board and her next fight was... she gave a smirk, her dad was a machine, she couldn't possibly win that one could she? She would still enjoy the chance for an honest and competitive crack at the old man though so she headed to the arena. Knives again, that was a relief at least.

She adressed him formally in mando'a "For the honour of our clan" then relaxed a little. "Your last fight was cool, I thought it was going to be closer until you tried to burst his armour like a ripe melarune." she laughed and lifted her dagger up into a guard position close to her face and activated her buckler.

One they had had a few moments of introduction, the fight began with her moving in quickly again as she had before. But this time the man she faced was the one who taught her those very dance steps and while the attack was good, he saw it coming and managed to parry the worst of it

Rolled a 5 on discord but my hosting situation is down.


​

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Brent Warnel

He had always been a level-headed fighter when it came to battle. The natural preference, over time, naturally became close quarters as soon as possible. It was ironic, for one who fought in so many one-on-one battles, that his skills in a protracted firefight the likes of which he found himself in seemed to be a rusty skill nowadays. Though, he was quickly discovering that his opponent had learned all he wished from the conflict wrought across the stars—that there was yet another glimmer of proof the efforts of strengthening the Mando’ade were not in vain.

Brent Warnel was certainly bold in the maneuver that followed, the first half of Carduul’s next volley missing from the sudden change in direction. With a quick snap of his wrist in adjustment, he had already pulled the trigger in center mass. Only to again be subverted as the other dipped lower, swiftly having to readjust again. No matter how many shots he sent towards the other’s frame, it didn’t seem to slow their momentum.

There was no quick reach for a melee weapon to bail him out, this time. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t able to give as good as he got in the moment.

Shots were traded, and his usually graceful footwork was thwarted with little room to move from being cut off. Sharp pangs! and dints of plasma against the armor eventually wore him, causing him to drop to a slide of his own towards the other to try to limit his exposed body to a smaller profile. If he could just get closer—his blaster pistol would attempt to return fire. At this rate, it was just in reach. The impact of blaster bolts began to scorch the skin beneath, and his momentum was waning under fire. If only he had one more second...

Yet, when the motion completed and he was just in range to twist his own blaster pistol around his grasp and intercept the other’s arm, he found a barrel levelled towards his neck. The next click would’ve marked the end.

“Hah…t’would seem I am bested.” A dry wheeze escaped him. “Give them hell, Brent Warnel.”

Roll 1: 6
Roll 2: 18
Roll 3: 16
Total: 40

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

​

KESTRI | CIN’HAASTAL MOUNTAINS
TAG:
OPPS: Signy Bralor​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

In the aftermath of Kjartan’s first bout with Siv, his chest heaved in and out with labored breathing as a dull pain began to settle in his chest from the blow he took. The adrenaline began slowly leaving his body, and he removed his helmet to wipe the sweat from his brow and dab it with a cool wet-cloth. But his respite would be short lived, as his next opponent was soon announced.

...and his mood instantly shifted. A mixture of hesitance, yet pride filled him. It was a poorly kept secret that his daughter was a chink within his armor - he loved his young pup. They had trained together since her childhood, when she was hardly even able to lift one of his hammers with her whole strength. She would never have the same bulk as her father, but she was steadily growing into a warrior of her own. The chosen weapons were knives, which immediately gave an advantage to his daughter. Yet, the old warrior still possessed experience over her, for he taught her how to fight with these very weapons.

The father in him equally wanted to see her succeed, but to also test her mettle as only a father could.

She adressed him formally in mando'a "For the honour of our clan" then relaxed a little. "Your last fight was cool, I thought it was going to be closer until you tried to burst his armour like a ripe melarune." she laughed and lifted her dagger up into a guard position close to her face and activated her buckler.

Kjartan gave a soft chuckle, placing his helmet back on his head before hefting two longer knives - more like dirks, yet within his hands the size difference simply made them look like normal knives. They were blunted for this duel, yet even still - looked dangerous in their own right. He held them both upside down, with the blades facing downward, and entered a ready stance. “If I hadn’t tried that, you probably would have doubted I was really your father.” He carried a familiar warmth in his voice, but the glint in his eye was hard - he was still within the throes of combat, his mind steeling itself for the spar between them.

One they had had a few moments of introduction, the fight began with her moving in quickly again as she had before. But this time the man she faced was the one who taught her those very dance steps and while the attack was good, he saw it coming and managed to parry the worst of it

His daughter moved with a grace and fluidity that Kjartan never could. His movements were always fast and powerful, but lacked the alacrity his daughter possessed. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t read her form as easily as a datapad. His stance slacked as she approached, a grin lining his features as she launched her first attack at an exposed bit of his armor. He parried the strike off to the side, but rather than lashing out with his other blade, he brought his knee up straight into her exposed midsection - launching a strong knee-strike with enough force to throw her off of her feet, and likely take the wind out of her. He avoided pushing his strike further though, not wanting to humiliate his daughter just as the fight began. “You’re better than that, pup. C’MON!”

Spoiler: First Roll

​

 

[Signy Bralor]

SIGNY BRALOR
OUTER RIM | THE PIRATE'S MOON
TAG: Kjartan Hammer-Hand
VISIBLY PRESENTING: Deliberately ambiguous - fully armoured

“You’re better than that, pup. C’MON!”

She knew she was better than that. She took a step back and breathed to get the wind back in her and took a moment to flex her torso, double checking nothing was broken in there. Her dad wasnt messing around, and he wasnt going easy on her. That was good, she would rather have her ass kicked than have her dad imply he didnt think she could take it.

She spun the knife in her hand and nodded as she readied herself again, her breathing was calm and deliberate, the way her boxing instructor had taught her to counter a winding gut punch. She went in again for another attack, she feinted right then tried to strike left, hoping to get inside his guard. She was good with a knife, well trained, but good training was no substitute for a life time of bar fights where people might genuinely want to show you your guts. She presumed.

​