Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Duel Galactic Kaggath Round 2: Antar vs Whottoomuz Chantin

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Molten rock covered the arena floor, churning under the pressure of its own heat. The dying corpse of the Wroyshr tree lit up with flame, descending steadily as its base burned away. Great branches broke away and were quickly consumed by the lava. As it devoured the last remnants of the first round’s environment, the second round’s stage took shape.

Platforms were scattered throughout the arena. They ranged from small ones which could barely hold one person to larger ones that evoked small duelling rings. Dozens of them floated at various heights, their machinery shielded against the heat from below.

Together, they formed the battleground for this round: a precarious battle above all-consuming lava with limited space to stand on.

Those who fell would be incinerated by the lava and forgotten in a tomb of molten rock.

The announcer’s voice cut through the excited chatter of the crowds as the combatants were ferried into the arena on small, floating platforms: “In remembrance of the Battle of Mustafar, fought by the First Order and the Galactic Alliance many decades ago, we present to you the second battlefield of the Kaggath!”

“Welcoooome to ROUND TWO of the GALACTIC KAGGATH!”

“BEHOLD ANTAR, THE ENDURING. CHAMPION OF THE BLACK SUN. WILL HE BE THE ONLY CHALLENGER TO BE DEFEATED TWICE?”

“AAAAND FACING OFF FROM HIM ON THE PLATFORMS - THE ONE AND ONLY, THE MAGNIFICENT, THE MAGNANIMOUS, THE WHOoooOOOTTOOOMUZZZ CHANTIN!”


Thirty minutes after the chaos and carnage of round one. Five minutes after the sudden announcement of a bounty that ripped through the arena like wildfire. The second round… began.

“CHALLENGERS! BEGIN!”

Antar Antar | Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin
 
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The floating platform bearing Whottoomuzz rose slow — as if gravity itself feared to rush him.

Beneath, the lava churned like a living furnace. Branches hissed as they were swallowed by heat, the scent of burning flora rising with the smoke.
And then he came into view.

Six tons of war-forged Hutt, encased in phrik and Voidstone. Electrum-trimmed armor shifting as it locked into place — the helm of Shyran Dol crowning his massive form. A larger than life idol of wrath carved from ancient destiny.

The crowd roared.
He didn’t wave.

The last warrior of Varl raised a single, hand to the gathered masses and flexed the clawed fingers of the gauntlet once — deliberate, the warlord reborn testing the air before slaughter.

"Mi kee cay uba ku hutteeska, an tee bu noleeya bai mi."

Then silence.
His platform halted. Mid-arena. Perfect line of sight to Antar.

He turned his body slightly, presenting no clean silhouette — the stance of someone who had survived too many wars to pretend this was sport.

Not a word for Antar yet, No pre match boasting. This was not a mere duel. It was a fight to the death, the flickering light of the Pulsar raging against the engulfing darkness of the Black Sun.
There would be time for words.

But first, he would lay his eye upon the other champion, sponsored by cowards and traitors.

He almost felt pity for the opponent. Antar Antar would be praying the price of other's actions. The Hutt's retribution would not show pity.

Defensive Actions: None yet; passive arrival.
Offensive Actions: None initiated; maintaining etiquette.
Mobility / Positioning: Deployed onto a stable mid-sized central platform. Maintains altitude, upright posture.
Armor / Gear Use: Full Shyran Dol armor engaged; helmet sealed; repulsors primed but unused. Voidstone field active (passive).
Damage Taken: None.
Status: Fresh. Focused. Reading the crowd and his opponent.
 

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