Character
FIRE & MERCY
Mercy
It had been years since Eleanor had ‘flown from the nest’ as it were, set out on a path to seek out the Embers of Vahl. But for the most part, it had been a fruitless and endlessly frustrating endeavour. Sure, she had managed to secure a few artefacts; some scrolls and tomes, but they were scarce. History told of a singular cult that followed the worship, but these days they were either submerged in secrecy, or scattered to the winds.
Eleanor had thought of returning home, of using Mother Moirai’s resources to achieve more accurate results. But…something had happened. Moirai was no more. Eleanor didn’t know what or how it had happened, but that ‘paternal’ bond had shifted. Not gone, just changed.
She suspected Carnifex was involved somehow.
Ultimately though, it mattered little. The entire point of leaving home was to strike out on her own. Using nothing but her own skills to navigate the galaxy. Which is what had landed Eleanor in the situation she was presently stuck in.
She had caught wind of someone recently acquiring a Vahl artefact, one of great interest to her. Eleanor sought out the individual, a man by the name of Jakar, a bookmaker who made his fortune off overseeing fight club betting. Such things were a dime a dozen across the galaxy, some prestigious, many others much less so. But there were always credits to be made no matter what.
Eleanor had arranged a meeting, and sat down with Jakar to discuss potentially acquiring the artefact. First to verify the fact he actually had it, which he did. It was a ritual dagger, what it was particularly used for however was unknown.
But it was of the Vahl, and Eleanor wanted it.
Unfortunately, Jakar wasn’t after straight up credits. No, he wanted a fighter. A fight club he had been overseeing had recently lost one, and had been sorely in need of a replacement. If Eleanor wanted the dagger, she would have to participate, and win.
In hindsight, Eleanor should’ve realized she was stepping into a trap then.
One win became two, two became three, so on and so forth. Each time she won, Jakar would shift the goalpost, the dagger continued being the carrot on the stick. Eleanor had thought about just killing the bookie, but she didn’t know where the artefact was being kept. And Jakar kept himself decently protected, both personally and bodyguard wise.
She had been immersed in the fight club lifestyle for over two months now. Moving about the galaxy as the event shifted venues. Now she was somewhere within the Core worlds, in the depths of Sith Covenant space.
Eleanor had built up something of a reputation. Of a seemingly plain jane-looking human who fought as though she had fire in her veins. Which was admittedly quite literal depending on your definition. During her first few fights, Eleanor had involuntarily slipped into her fire-shaping, to a point of outright charring an opponent’s arm. It quickly caught on with the audiences, who came to dub her the ‘Little Hellion.’
“Laaaaadies, and gentlemen! We have quite the fiery fight for you tonight. First, we have someone who's been shooting through the sky like a burning star. But will she continue to rise, or burn out and fall? She is your fire slinging Little Helion, ELEANOR!”
At this point she had come to tune out the announcer as he yelled. Even the mix of cheers and boos from the crowd were just background noise. Eleanor was focused on the upcoming fight, especially because she had no idea who her opponent was going to be. It was meant to be a rematch with a previous opponent, but it changed at the last minute. The identity of this new opponent was kept secret, much to the chagrin of the audience, and most especially those betting on who would win.
“And the second fighter, a mystery replacement that has had you all buzzing with speculation. He’s a returning champ, coming out of retirement for one last match. You know him for his strength and tenacity. He is the Unkillable, VELDO!”
Eleanor could hear his approach, let alone see him as the crowd parted to make way. The man was towering, standing at the very least twice her height. What stuck out to her however, was the fact that Veldo was armoured, a contrast to the simple tank top and trousers she was wearing. And then she looked up at his face, that quite distinctive shape and appearance.
A Gen’Dai.
It all suddenly made sense. The ‘mystery opponent’ had heavily shifted the betting odds in Eleanor’s favour to win. A lot of people had betted as such, and no doubt Jakar had done the opposite.
You slimy rat…So this is your play.
“You both know the rules, melee weapons only. The first to yield or die loses. Opponents, approach!”
Eleanor walked forwards, until she had to crane her head back enough to look Veldo in the eyes.
“Do yourself a favour little girl, yield now.”
She let out an unbothered scoff. “Unkillable. What an unfortunate title to have, by the end of this it’ll be ironic.”
Both opponents stared one another down, before turning on their heels and walking to opposing sides of the ring, where a variety of melee weapons were available to choose.