Faction Bushido | Iron Covenant

[Seva Beroya]

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

VICARIOUS​

The hit landed. Not that it was a surprise to her - polearms are where her training with the Talz started, after all.

What did come as a surprise is Senec's weapon whipping around as he turned onto his back to catch a breath.

As she tried to get out of the way, the shaft caught her Achilles and before she knew it, she was on her back as well, wind knocked out of her as well.
You dikut, Seva she thought to herself as an armour injector pumped some stim into her to help with the breathing. As the thought flitted through her mind, she angled the Bevii'ragir in such a way, bracing it against the ground, that Senec would not be able to avoid it as she fought for breath.

But the stim did its job.

Her jumpboots activated, shooting her backwards before gaining a bit of altitude for her to get to her feet again. She then immediately dropped into her defensive stance once more to read how the situation would unfold further, invigorated by the stim injection.

Spoiler: Rolls

Round 1: 15
Round 2: 6

​

 

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

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

---

He was in no hurry to engage again after they'd separated.

While Senec rose to his feet Seva's jumpboots ensured she made distance. By the time Senec had rose completely she was across the arena from him settling into a defensive stance with her polearm.

He'd catch his breath a moment, measuring the distance between the two of them then begin forward.

Distance was irrelevant, Senec wasn't rushing in like he had at the beginning of their match. He didn't want to welcome defeat. Footsteps came steady, slow almost sliding across the snow rather than walking over it.

As he came closer his hands began to shift over his Bevii'ragir, his right gripping higher along the shift beneath the head and his left lower, closer to the butt and the counterweight.

When he came within distance his left foot would plant and he'd angle his right profile forward, aiming the Bevii'ragir in the process and loosening his right hands fingers so that his hand could act as a guide. Jabbing at Seva Beroya 's he attempted to feint. Using his left hand he'd work the polearm like a pool cue, jabbing first at Seva's head before quickly drawing it backwards in an attempt to get her to parry or block on the inside then pushing off his rear foot to add momentum and power to a subsequent thrust on the outside that lowered the head of the Bevii'ragir and sought to drive it into her breastplate at height with her solar plexus....

 

[Seva Beroya]

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

VICARIOUS​

He had learned from his initial rush at the beginning of the fight.

This time, she watched him as he stalked closer. The slow approach gave the Mirialan more than enough time to get a proper reading on his movements. He was definitely more calculated this time.

But so was she.

Spending as much time around actual hunter-gatherers and actual predators has given her a predatory instinct of her own. When the feinting jab came toward her head, she lifted a hand from the shaft to ward against a blow that never landed. Instead he pulled back and made a thrust toward her chest.

She had been ready to move, however. She shifted her entire body to the side, the shaft his Bevii'ragir scraping against her armour - scraping some of the black paint in the process. At the same time, her own polearm snaked out from the one hand still holding it to at least try and land a blow on his stomach.

Then she danced out of close-quarter once more to get a better stance once more should it be necessary.

Spoiler: Rolls

Round 1: 15
Round 2: 6
Round 3: 11
Total = 32

​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

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

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

This time, Signy’s attack was a bit better. It wasn’t fair for her to fight the man who trained her though, for he could still see the tells of her movements. The feint was good though, as her strike from the left clipped just shy of the exposed section of his bodyglove, tearing through some of the fabric and drawing blood with a surface wound. Kjartan leapt back, and as her knife swung past on his right (her left), he let the blade pass before he lashed out with his left, against her right side - taking advantage of her exposed side. To clip the undermesh between her breastplate under the armpit.

Not one to rely on one attack, he then launched an uppercut with the pommel of his other knife, which would likely daze her if it landed. It was not his intention to beat-up his daughter, but he had trained her to expect no mercy or quarter from her opponents. He was not going to let this be easy, nor allow his vode to think him soft just because he was fighting his daughter.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

​

 

[Senec Ahn-Dross]

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

---

She was faster than him. Whether it came naturally to her or if it was due to the stims that had been injected through her armor he'd never know.

At least not this time.

It was difficult to pull out of a thrust, especially one you launched into for added momentum. For a moment Senec believed he'd be successful, his Bevii'ragir encountered some resistance as it scratched over her armor. Then blow landed.

One handed it was difficult to wield a polearm, he'd seen other Mandalorians do it but there was usually an awkwardness to it. It didn't matter though.

Senec found he was driving himself into her blow thanks to the forwards momentum from his lunge. An obvious discomfort filled his stomach. When Seva Beroya retreated backwards he'd already be falling onto a knee with his left hand reaching to lay over his midsection. Breathing heavily, catching as much of his breath as he could he swallowed the nausea that inevitably followed a solid blow such as the one received while looking up at her.

Raising a hand he'd have conceded, his words following the gesture...

"Well done Vod."

...it took a moment for his breath to come back to him completely then he would have risen from the slush that the snow beneath their feet had become, sparin her another look in the process...

"I look forward to the next time."

An Attendant had come into the arena, Senec handed them his Bevii'ragir and then moved off the field slowly and onto the sidelines.

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Seva Beroya vs. Kjartan Hammer-Hand — Beskads / Vibroswords

Vreegan Fett vs. Brent Warnel — Dueler's choice

 

[Vreegan Fett]

The victory over Sahan Dragr left no room for celebration in Vreegan's mind; it had been a messy correction of a warrior who had forgotten the utility of his own armor. But as the silhouette of Brent Warnel appeared through the mountain's icy atmosphere, the data in his HUD shifted.

The high-contrast filters recalibrated, stripping away the lingering heat signatures of the previous bout to focus entirely on the armored plates of a man who knew exactly how to use them given that he had managed to defeat the former Mand'alor Carduul. Vreegan tightened his gauntleted grip on the Shock lance. The weapon felt balanced, an extension of his will rather than a crude substitute.

He watched Brent approach, noting the familiar, disciplined determination of a soldier who had marched across a dozen worlds under the Neo-Crusader banner. There was a shared language between them, one written in the battles they once shared from burning Kashyyyk to ransacking Naboo.

Vreegan offered a sharp, stiff bow a Field Marshal's salute to a Vod who had bled in the same trenches. With a quick motion, he moved ahead, maintaining a low center of gravity, the shock-lance held tightly against his body to reduce his silhouette. He wasn't seeking a sparring opportunity; but instead wanting to invade Brent's personal space, intent on overpower him with the immense, forceful momentum of an armored charge.

Post 1 of 3 = Total:

Spoiler: Combat Roles

 

[Signy Bralor]

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

She knew she was losing after, despite drawing blood on her dad, she was once again sent reeling by an uppercut to the base of her helmet. She shook her head, she was going about this all wrong, she needed to be better.

The moved again trying to goad him into attacking with a few sweeps of her blade into his guard.

One last try to get back into the game, as he made an attack she blocked it outside and tried to swing around to put her blade into his kidneys, she figured if she used his strength and momentum against him she could force an error and cause him to open up. Maybe, it was a long shot.

She roared as she made her strike.


​

I got another 5​

 

[Brent Warnel]

THE FIELD MARSHALL
TAG: Vreegan Fett
THE ARENA / KESTRI​

Brent's grip tightened on his own poleaxe as he advanced toward his next bout. The poleaxe was the same one he had been given on Dxun while he had ventured with Carduul to find the armor he now wore. Its long reach would be a boon to him, as well as the spike on the end, and axe-blade. The utility of such a weapon in an arena like this couldn't be understated. Unless, that is, his opponent brought a blaster.

It felt good winning his bout against Carduul Akahl . But at the same time, it didn't. It was a mixture of feelings he was not sure how to process at this moment. Unfortunately, there was no time to try and process and get his thoughts right, for another foe appeared through the whipping and icy wind of Kestri.

As the wind blew the snow away, a clear figure stood in front of him. The armored form of his old Field Marshall, Vreegan. The man held a shock lance easily within his grip. Brent's footsteps halted as he saw the other, an individual he had not seen in quite a long time. Not since the fall of the Crusaders. Yet here he was, as if he had been here the whole time.

Another Crusader? He thought.

Brent had only seen Carduul for the short time he had been here, not any other Crusaders, but now here was another brother, seemingly pulled from space and time. This Iron Covenent was a full of Mandalorians he had never met, but somehow he was only fighting the Vode he had bled with in another time. This irked Brent. Was this new group of Mandalorians trying to test the Crusaders against each other? Were they having a laugh at only having Crusaders fight other Crusaders? Did they Covenant not think Crusaders worthy of testing their martial prowess against them?

"Does the Covenant fear to send its own against me!?" Brent howled into the wind. "You make me fight only my own brothers!?"

So be it. Brent thought.

Brent watched the Field Marshall bow, giving him respect. Brent slammed his own fist against his chest, returning the gesture in his own way before placing both hands upon the poleaxe. He barely had time to do the motion as Vreegan advanced, more than willing to end this duel on the first thrust, his shock lance ready to spear Brent.

Brent charged forward, not wildly, but aggressively. The pole-arm would be angled slightly, the axe blade facing downward to parry and ward off the shock lance. Brent would use his forward momentum in an attempt to catch the shock lance between the upper blade of the poleaxe and the spear tip.

If he was able, he would use his momentum and ride the poleaxe down the shaft of the shock lance, using the spear tip and the upper blade of his own poleaxe to break the grip Vreegan had on his shock lance, forcing him to drop the weapon.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Brent Warnel poleaxe moved through the air with precision, its axe-blade angled low as it sought to ensnare the Shock lance and pull it from his grasp. However, the Field Marshal was ready; he stepped into the arc, leveraging his opponent's own momentum against him like a lever. By twisting his hips and planting his left foot, he allowed the force to propel him forward instead of resisting it.

The shock lance pivoted in his grip, not torn free but carried along the slide, its butt-spike slamming into the ice behind him for a split-second anchor. The sudden reversal of direction snapped Brent's balance; the man's forward rush turned into an uncontrolled stumble as Vreegan's armored torso slammed inside the reach of the poleaxe.

Then his helmeted head snapped forward to execute a Keldabe's kiss, the impact echoing through the howling wind.

The sickening crunch of beskar colliding with beskar sent a localized shockwave through the frigid air. Sparks showered from the brutal friction of their faceplates. Vreegan's own HUD flared with static for a fraction of a second as the internal dampeners screamed against the sheer kinetic transfer, but he had braced for the concussion and so would be ready to execute a follow up.

Post 2 of 3 = Total:

Spoiler: Combat Roles

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

​

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

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

It gave him no pleasure to defeat his daughter in this duel. Although he was pulling his punches to a certain extent, it doubly so gave him no pleasure to strike his daughter. Yet she was a capable warrior, and to take it easy on her would have been a disservice.

She roared, demonstrating her parentage to full effect as her stab was aimed at his kidneys. The blades were blunted so he was in no mortal danger, but even still; Kjartan leapt back to avoid the stab. It impacted against his armor just an inch above the seam, eliciting a grunt from the warrior. He dropped his right-hand dagger in the dirt, which freed his hand to snatch his daughter’s wrist. He yanked hard, pulling her body towards his own - only to then body-check her with his massive form.

As her body landed in the snow, Kjartan walked up to her and offered her a hand. He smiled underneath his helmet. “Well fought pup. Maybe another day.”

He could feel his limbs begin to protest, but alas - the tournament was not over yet. He steeled himself as he walked out of the ring, removing his helmet and catching his breath while listening for the call.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

Spoiler: Third Roll

​

TAG:
OPPS: Seva Beroya​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

---

---

The call went forth. Kjartan regarded the warrior as her name was spoken.

Seva Beroya - a name that carried some renown among their people. His eyes locked with hers as they stood outside of the ring. Kjartan walked over to her, and offered her an arm by way of a handshake. “When this is done, we shall drink to the health of the Champion.” As their hands met in an embrace, he added “I prefer ale. Don’t let your words in my honor be too emotional.”

He gave her a roguish grin as he walked off to his side, donning his helmet as he did so. He then pulled out a blunted beskad, testing the balance in his hand before nodding his acceptance.

For this battle, he shrugged off his cloak, allowing the wool to fall off his form in a heap. One of his crew rushed to pick up the massive garment, and Kjartan entered the ring - flourishing the blade before entering a ready stance. He waited for her to do the same, and for the call for the battle to begin to echo through the valley once more.

True to form, Kjartan did not waste any time. In the first battle, he chose a feint to open the fight. In his second battle, his daughter attempted the same thing. This time, Kjartan began with something he had not yet done. He charged forth, yet stopped abruptly - casting snow in the face of his opponent.

But then he renewed his advance, spinning about at the last moment to pivot around his foe, bringing the blade into a fast and swift strike aimed at Seva’s midsection, along her rear plate. Although he was old, and was beginning to feel the fatigue of battle in his limbs, it was clear that the Hammer-hand had not lost a step.

Not yet.

Spoiler: First Roll

​

 

[Brent Warnel]

THE DUEL
TAG: Vreegan Fett
KESTRI / THE ARENA​

Brent's momentum was thrown ajar as Vreegan swept in close, his shock-lance sticking into the ground and interrupting Brent's forward momentum. Brent saw the Field Marshal's helmeted head come forward quickly. Brent braced himself for the impact, but the screeching crack of beskar colliding with beskar rocked Brent's head back sharply. His vision swam for a split second, and he was disoriented, but not for long. If Brent hadn't had a helmet, the fight would've been over, but he did have one, and he wasn't even close to finished yet.

Before his opponent could take any type of follow-up action, Brent's right hand let go of the poleaxe, snapping up and gripping Vreegan behind the head. Brent used his considerable size and strength advantage to pull the Field Marshal's head and neck downward to meet his ascending right knee.

He let go of Vreegan's helmet as the knee collided, snapping the other man's head back and up, creating a bit of distance. With a harsh, quick teep kick, Brent's foot struck the others' chest plate and forced him backward.

With a quick jerking motion, Brent yanked the poleaxe backward, attempting to hook Vreegan with the blade of the axehead and pull him forward off balance. If it missed, he would have his poleaxe back away from the Field Marshal and ready to defend against another attack.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

Post 2 of 3
Dice Total = 29

 

[Vreegan Fett]

The forceful impact of Brent Warnel knee against the Field Marshal's helmet reverberated through his skull like a shattered bell. Vreegan's teeth clenched tightly, his HUD flickering erratically as a flurry of red warning signals illuminated his visor. The tremendous force of the strike jerked his head back, leaving his chest vulnerable for the man's next move.

The powerful kick struck squarely against Vreegan's breastplate. The blow propelled him backward, his heavy boots carving twin grooves into the solid permafrost to halt his momentum. Brent seized the moment, swiftly pulling the heavy poleaxe back to exploit the distance created.

The cold metal of the axe-blade scraped harshly against the thick ridge of Vreegan's left pauldron, intended to pull the Field Marshal forward and completely disrupt his balance. It turned out to be a fatal miscalculation because instead of resisting the pull, Vreegan clamped his left gauntlet over the poleaxe's shaft, securing the weapon against his shoulder armor.

Using Brent's backward motion to his advantage, he propelled himself forward, his boots gripping the icy surface. With his right hand, he forcefully yanked his Shock lance out of the ground.

He completely avoided the thick beskar plates, driving the sparking electrodes straight into the flexible, armored body-glove located beneath Brent's right armpit. "If you ever challenge me again, Vod Warnel, it will be the last thing you ever do in this life." He would stake his reputation on carrying out such a threat if the need arose.

As his finger pressed the activation stud with his thumb, adjusting it to the highest setting. A dazzling, localized burst of blue electricity surged directly into the joint. The intense voltage circumvented Brent's armor dampeners, unleashing a tremendous shockwave of current straight into the man's nervous system.

Post 3 of 3 = Total: 41

Spoiler: Combat Roles

 

[Brent Warnel]

THE END
TAG: Vreegan Fett
KESTRI / THE ARENA​

Victory was upon him; he could feel it. The cracking of beskar on beskar, the quick jerk of his poleaxe, the weapon sticking to the Field Marshall's armor and yanking him forward, off-balance, ready to-

Except he wasn't off balance, he was completely balanced, and he was forceful in his next moves. The lance ripped from the ground, Brent's yanking motion pulling Vreegan and the lance even quicker to him than the man would have normally been able to do.

Brent had miscalculated; he had been fighting unskilled warriors and Jedi since the fall of the Crusaders, and the memory of dueling other Mandalorians had slipped from him. He would pay that price now.

Like a bolt of lightning in a storm, Vreegan's lance whipped past Brent's attempt at deflecting it and landed with a thud into his armpit. Brent's momentum stopped, for as far as the arena rules went, he had lost. In a real battle, it might as well have been a killing blow.

Brent's earlier elation rapidly fled from him. He had been too quick to dismiss his opponent's skill. He would have to live with the loss, but there was little shame in it. The arena was built for Mandalorians to fight and test themselves against one another; it was how they honed their skills.

"If you ever challenge me again, Vod Warnel, it will be the last thing you ever do in this life."

Brent's ire rose, but before he could respond, the activation of the lance ripped through his body. Brent's body locked up, arcing in pain, his back spasming, and he fell to his knees. His armor had taken a large brunt of the shock, but it still blew his systems and poured fire into his body. Brent dropped the poleaxe, his hand coming out to stop his upper body from crashing into the ground. The lance had hurt, but it was nothing compared to what had happened on Brosi, to what had occurred after, to his rebirth.

Brent laughed, a barking, coughing sound as he got a knee up under his body and lifted himself to his feet. Brent deactivated his helmet seals and lifted it from his head, clamping it to his belt. His body ached as he faced Vreegan, a smile adorning his face as he stared into the once Field Marshall's visor.

"If you ever again find yourself crawling out of whatever hole you've been hiding in, Vreegan, you can test those words where they matter, outside the arena," he responded as he collected his poleaxe and left the arena, the cold and harsh wind whipping at his face.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

 

[Seva Beroya]

VORNSKR
ARENA | KESTRI
TAG: Kjartan Hammer-Hand
GEAR: Beskad

VICARIOUS​

Senec lifted a hand to concede.

"Well done Vod. I look forward to the next time."

Instantly, Seva stood down, lowering the polearm and held out her hand to help her Vod to his feet.
"Evenly matched by all accounts, Vod. I would enjoy another spar with you any day." she told him as they both handed their weapons to the attendant. She could appreciate his strength and innovation - even with a weapon he was clearly not comfortable with. He surely made his Clan proud this day, despite the eventual loss. Yes, she was an Alor - but that had taught her to see the skill beneath the spectacle.

She knew what a warrior really looked like and Senec was it.

They both left the arena, where Seva then waited for the next fight to conclude. The Mirialan was no fool - she knew the closer they got to the final, the tougher the fight would get.

Kjartan didn't hold back, even against his own daughter. Seva knew better than to expect a reprieve against a fellow veteran Mando'ad. This would be a different fight.

Eventually, the fight concluded and a short recess was given before the next list was called.

Of course it would be her and Kjartan. With beskads. Not exactly her strong point, even though she was reasonably good with a beskad and can hold her own. She trained extensively to combat Force Users and their laser swords. But pirates - even an ex one - were a different beast.

Of course, he had the arrogance to go with his old stigma.

"When this is done, we shall drink to the health of the Champion." As their hands met in an embrace, he added "I prefer ale. Don't let your words in my honor be too emotional."

Green eyes were ice cold behind her visor as she gripped his forearm in greeting.
"The health of all Vod are more important than a single man's to me. Don't hold your breath for an emotional address - you'll die of your old age, Vod." She dropped his arm like a piece of slug slime and walked into the arena with the beskad given to her by the attendant.

Then she took a defensive stance and waited.

Just like Senec, he rushed in off the bat. But he used the snow to his advantage.

Seva's visor was full of snow - she was blind for a moment. But the Auditory Receptors on her armour still worked. Her experience allowed her to not panic without sight. Instead, she listened for his movement and then her beskad met his before his hit fully connected as he moved to her rear.

Her predatory instinct hadn't failed her yet, despite having no sight.

Instead of following up with a counter, however, she took the second to wipe the snow from her visor while dropping into another defensive position.

Spoiler: Rolls

First Round
Round 1: 15
Round 2: 6
Round 3: 11
Total: 32

Second Round
Round 1: 10

​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

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---

​

KESTRI | CIN’HAASTAL MOUNTAINS
TAG:
OPPS: Seva Beroya​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

Seva’s bladework was almost as good as her tongue, but it mattered not. Kjartan was not unaccustomed to the biting remarks of those who felt they had the upper hand. Judging from the opening of their battle though, confidence welled up within him.

A dangerous feeling, undoubtedly. His opening strike was strong, and just barely met with her own blade. Her own training had taken over despite the obscured vision, a testament to the reputation she had acquired. Yet the pirate too had a reputation; one that dictated no respite for his foe. He pressed his advantage as she tried to wipe the snow from her visor, launching a vicious upward slash meant to throw her on the back foot. He would follow it up, pulling the sword back from its upward momentum, and launching a stab center-mass, which would punch into her midsection if she was unable to recover in time.

Kjartan launched his assault without a word being uttered - not the type to try and charm his foes into dropping their guard. The Hammer-hand was known to commit fully to any foe before him, as mercilessly as the unyielding surfaces of his chosen weapons. His use of the Beskad was not his preference, but he had trained diligently even so with such weapons throughout his life.

As a result, the blade danced through the frigid air as though it were an extension of his arm, belying considerable bulk with deceptively agile footwork and fluid motions.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

​

 

[Seva Beroya]

VORNSKR
ARENA | KESTRI
TAG: Kjartan Hammer-Hand
GEAR: Beskad

VICARIOUS​

Seva wasn't chosen as Alor because her people thought her pretty.

As she was wiping the snow from her visor, she was still ready and her receptors picked up his movement in the snow. As the slash cam up, it met her own ready blade, though the force of it sent her staggering back.

But by then, she could see again, even though she lost the reach.

She didn't have to wait long, however. The ex-pirate did as expected and pressed the battle. She was ready just as he came at her again with vehemence.

But this time, she was ready.

She met his blade with her own and with swift riposte, she deflected the vehemence aside to press her own bite toward the soft of his deflected arm and then slamming into his body with her shoulder after her slice before jumping back and sinking back into a defensive stance.

She would keep an eye - with all of her senses - on his movements. Never underestimate your own, no matter how arrogant they may seem. That was one of the first lessons taught to her when she was still a Foundling. Since then, Beroyas, Munins as well as Talz had taught her not only survival, but predatory instinct as well.

She had spent enough time around Beviin to know how to read things through his feline eyes instead of her humanoid ones.

Spoiler: Rolls

First Round
Round 1: 15
Round 2: 6
Round 3: 11
Total: 32

Second Round
Round 1: 10
Round 2: 12

​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

---

---

​

KESTRI | CIN’HAASTAL MOUNTAINS
TAG:
OPPS: Seva Beroya​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

The momentum had shifted - he could feel it. He could feel the aches in his muscles and the wounds along his body beginning to settle in. The force behind his first strike knocked her off balance, yet as he pushed further, she executed a riposte that he was unfortunately ill-prepared for. He stumbled, which opened his form enough for her blade to slice through the gap in his armor along the fore-arm near the joint.

He winced from behind his visor as a searing pain surged along his arm, which was only worsened as her shoulder rammed into him. He stumbled backward, favouring his wounded arm which caused him to shift his grip so the weight of his sword could move to his off-hand. His breathing grew more laboured as he paused and assessed her form. She was ready for him, like a coiled snake waiting for a larger predator to stumble back into reach of her bite. It was only then, that he spoke. “It appears that I underestimated you, Beroya. A sin beyond doubt.”

His voice sounded a bit strained, more or less reflecting the collective trauma he had thus far endured. Yet he was not beaten - not yet. He tested her guard, loosing several slashes at her to gain the measure of her form. After a few rounds of back and forth, he feinted low again - hoping to capitalize on her memory in expectation of the same attack he offered her before, only to spin and launch his blade into a whirlwind slash that - if unimpeded - would strike across her left shoulder pauldron and the rear of her cuirass, and potentially even knock her into the snow beneath them. He felt his tank draining, and his execution was likely flawed. Yet a warrior needed resolve, and he carried on with as much as he could steel himself with now.

Spoiler: First Roll

Spoiler: Second Roll

Spoiler: Third Roll

Final total=27

​

 

[Seva Beroya]

VORNSKR
ARENA | KESTRI
TAG: Kjartan Hammer-Hand
GEAR: Beskad

VICARIOUS​

"It appears that I underestimated you, Beroya. A sin beyond doubt."

Her hit had somehow landed.

For a heartbeat, Seva felt a sliver of hesitation - she was younger than he was. She could slightly start to feel the weight of her armour, but she at least had a walkover in the first round where he had to fight his way through.

She had the youthly endurance as an advantage. Should she even be pressing the fight?

But Kjartan still had that dog in him.

He still came at her - like a true Mando'ad - first testing her guard. That made her mind up for her - she wouldn't take away from his pride. She'd give him his fight.

She met his blade with his own - allowing him to test her guard. But she didn't really put energy into those - a beskad was less cumbersome than a polearm, after all. It mostly just reaction to his testing hits.

But she knew a googly was coming at some point. She had sparred against the likes of Jan Beroya and Adenn Munin - the true masters of beskad use - when she was being trained. She wasn't given her title - her Clan had made sure to make her earn it. So her predatory eyes kept monitoring his movements as he went through the movements.

Then it came.

He had gotten her into a good routine. Just a fraction of a second, she missed the movement of his muscles as he feinted. She was already moving to block his feint, when he shifted.

Seva realised her mistake still semi in time. But instead of her trying to shift body to catch his strike, she just moved into his complete personal space and slammed into his chest with her off-shoulder and elbow instead, his strike bouncing off her striker-pauldron before slightly nicking into the gap beneath it instead of directly slicing into her shoulder as intended.

His blow still threw her off-balance as she, herself, staggered to the side before regaining her balance and renewing her attack. If she were to hold off, it would only draw out the fight, worsening his energy and taking away from his honour. The nick of his beskad still seared - not as solidly as a true hit, but she could still feel the trickle of blood beneath the undersuit.

"Not bad, Hammer-Hand." she said before it was time for her to truly show up. A Beroya that didn't know how to use a beskad, was no use at all. She was Alor of said Clan - she knew her blade-work.

Her own attack came with far more vehemence now - she meant to finish it, instead of trying to exhaust them both. Her strikes wasn't meant to test defences - they were meant to either send him off-balance or to cut into more places of his.

Then she aimed high with the same vehemence, intent on drawing a guard if he could manage it, before changing direction and slicing below his ribs instead. She didn't want to kill him - just end his fight for now.

She span around him to strike at his back in any way just after diverting her strike toward his short rib, intent to send him sprawling.

Spoiler: Rolls

First Round
Round 1: 15
Round 2: 6
Round 3: 11
Total: 32

Second Round
Round 1: 10
Round 2: 12
Round 3: 18
Total: 40

​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

The frost of Kestri clung to the fine edges of Vreegan's flowing white cape, the fabric snapping like a whip in the rising gale as he stepped into the final arena. The sun, hanging low and cold over the jagged peaks, caught the polished surfaces of his golden armor, turning him into a shimmering pillar of Neo-Crusader defiance.

He was not merely a remnant of a bygone age of Mandalorian extremism; rather, he served as a stark reminder of the complete devastation wrought by the Neo-Crusaders across a thousand worlds, from the lush forests of Kashyyyk to the radiant halls of Theed, where they dealt a deadly blow to the Royal Naboo Republic.

The Iron Covenant needed to do more than just drift a fleet around the galaxy, scavenging for scraps; they had to find ways to defeat their adversaries by any means required even it meant the killing of civilians. A gloved hand brushed his helmet, as the internal HUD ran a diagnostic scan and determined that he was well healthy enough to engage his next opponent after defeating the warrior from Clan Dragr and his former colleague in Brent Warnel .

Vreegan's gaze locked onto Seva Beroya . He did not dismiss the women for to do so would be a tactical miscalculation of her abilities. He saw the way she carried herself, the balance of her stance and concluded that she was an experienced Mandalorian but she was not Crusader. She lacked the singular, world-burning conviction that had once brought the Outer Rim systems to its knees.

And for that he could not allow himself to be defeated without rending her flesh beneath the beskar'gam. He had given up his Shock lance for a fortified blastsword to take advantage of both distance and melee capability.

"Seva Beroya," Vreegan's voice rumbled through the vocoder, laced with a small hint of venomous intent. "You have fought well to reach this summit, but you stand before a Mandalorian who has lead a galaxy-wide crusade of terror. I do not doubt your ability to defeat me, I question its very existence." There was a fleeting recognition of her combat abilities, as she successfully overcame members of the Iron Covenant; however, when it came to him, he doubted her capacity to pose any real challenge.

He raised the blastsword, the targeting reticle in his HUD snapping onto Seva's center mass with predatory speed. He squeezed off two suppressing shots heavy, crimson bolts intended to force her into cover or a desperate dodge.

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Spoiler: Combat Roles