Private Court of Iron Fist

[Warpriest Prime]

​

O B J E C T I V E | Seek Worthy Prospects of Prime
L O C A T I O N | Eshan
G E A R | Gjallerhorn | Celestial Crown

Jerrik Molten ​

The Echani arena was a bowl of white stone carved into the heart of Eshan's capital, its surface gleaming beneath the afternoon sun like polished bone. No cheering crowds. No music. No roar of engines or clash of steel. Only the rhythmic sound of bodies colliding. Flesh meeting flesh, knuckles slamming into ribs, feet sweeping stone.

Domina Prime sat with a stillness that belied the primal hunger coiled beneath her scales. Her four arms rested with ritualistic poise, two folded, two draped across her lap as she observed the dance before her. Echani warriors moved with fluid sharpness; their footwork was poetry, their strikes carried a language older than hyperspace charts.

She had come bearing gifts. Relics of Mandalorian craft, blessed armaments forged in the Holy Anvil of The Ark. Spears tempered in divine flame. Knives cracked with lightning. A short hafted hammer etched with the hymn of breaking. She had offered them freely, not as trade, but as cultural reverence. A warrior people deserved such gifts.

Growing up, weapons had been her religion.
But martial combat? Prime called that her first love.

And every muscle in her monstrous, elegant frame longed to leap into the ring.

For now, she remained still. She was a representative, not a challenger...yet.

Before her, a young Mandalorian stood stripped bare of armor save for a metal-faced mask. Across from him, an Echani fighter danced lightly on her toes, studying him, reading his emotions with that uncanny intuition their species was famed for. Dima leaned forward as the exchange grew heated, blows traded, dodges made by inches, instinct clashing with analysis.

Then came the finishing flurry.
A whirlwind of strikes...knees, elbows, a spinning heel~
the Mandalorian hit the ground hard, blood fanning across the stone, the mask flung into the dust.

For one heartbeat, silence deepened.

Dima's lips curled.

A low, menacing chuckle rippled from her throat, her fangs glinting under the pale light. She snapped her claws once. A sharp, commanding crack.

"Steady yourself, we've only just begun...RUN IT BACK!"

The prospect groaned, slammed a fist into the ground, spat blood into the dust, and stalked forward to retrieve his mask. He pressed it against his face with renewed fire and rose to face his opponent once more. This was why she had brought them here.

A grand pilgrimage through the galaxy's martial cultures, to strip away armor, ego, reliance on weapons and teach her House the oldest truth she had ever learned:

When all else failed
the warrior remained.

And she intended for her warriors to be forged into living weapons worthy of her god.

 

[Jerrik Molten]

Ilum may have been the new home of Jerrick Molten, but that would only last a few short years, because the moment he found a way to leave, Jerrick would take the opportunity to flee amongst the stars again. To his luck, a small vessel landed on the icy planet with a pair of scavengers within. When the duo exited the spacecraft and ventured off into the icy plains of Ilum, that was when Jerrick took action. The young man pushed off the ground, nearly slipping in the snow in the process, but he managed to get a grip with his boots, and trek towards the ship.

With each step the young man made, the sound of snow being packed down to the surface was heard and the ship was nearing quickly. As Jerrick approached the ship, the engines were still humming with life, which could only mean that the people who left it behind, would end up coming back very soon. This was a sign to get the hell off the planet as soon as possible.

Jerrick pressed forward, stepping up the metallic ramp into the ship and briskly made it to the cockpit. Once inside, Jerrick noticed that the ship was similar to what he flew in the past. A smile formed under the metal helmet and within a few short seconds, Jerrick Molten was in the seat, pressing multiple buttons, and turning the thrusters up slightly to get the ship off the ground. The ramp folded up and closed completely, then the ship’s engine roared loudly before taking flight.

After the ship took off through the cold climate of Ilum, Jerrick noticed that the auto-pilot feature was turned on and he literally had zero thoughts on how to switch it back. On the screen it showed another planet that seemed to be covered with snow. Planet Eshan, home to the Echani. A species much like humans, except the Echani do their speaking through combat, as if it were their way of communication. A special art, some would say. This didn’t mean anything to Jerrick because he was still young and barely trained in the way of the Jedi, nor did his knowledge expand past that in general.

There was very little that Jerrick could do since the ship was stuck in auto-pilot mode, so he began to do what he was best at, foraging through everything that was on the ship. He found small bags of crystals, a datapad, and a weapons cache that held ancient weapons, such as vibroblades crafted centuries ago. Whoever the ship belonged to, they seemed to be up to no good. Maybe they were acquiring ancient material to craft such weapons and sell them? Regardless, Jerrick felt that his findings would benefit him in the long run. As for now, the young man stopped rummaging through the gear and made his way back to the cockpit.

BOOM!! The ship’s left engine burst into flames and red lights flashed, followed by a loud alarm within the ship. Jerrick had yet to make it back to the cockpit before the ships’ engine took a complete turn for the worst. He could feel the ship leaning, as if it were speeding through the atmosphere of a planet, which caused him to worry for what was to come. Jerrick managed to get the proper footing and ran forward to the cockpit as he originally planned. The ship had indeed entered the atmosphere of planet Eshan, which was a good thing because Jerrick had no idea where he was to begin with and didn’t want the ship to steer off course.

The ship soared across the Eshan sky with a trail of smoke and blazing fire coming from the left engine. On the inside, Jerrick was in the seat trying to buckle up and brace for the impact that was coming. "I hope this isn’t it.." He muttered quietly, while bouncing wildly within the seat. Turbulence was not the word because it never stopped and the sound of the ship’s engine ripping apart was now being heard from inside. Metal tearing, bending, and bursting to pieces, but Jerrick continued to hold on tightly to the arms of the chair.

When the ship hit the ground, it wasn’t a straight down impact. Instead, the ship skipped across the terrain, like a rock being thrown against the surface of a pond. The snow from the planet’s surface was enough to put out the fire, but the smoke continued to flow upward into the sky, causing Jerrick to stick out like a sore thumb. What was the plan now and how was the situation going to be handled? The young man was dazed and confused, still placed in the seat without being torn out from the impact..


​

Warpriest Prime​