Golbah Games

[Cairyn Midore]

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGIR-ysPtQ8​

Petranaki Arena was bustling with activity on this day. Whatever sales the Arena had been making in its regularly scheduled death matches already paled in comparison to the profits of this day. Seats were packed to the brim, strangers getting incredibly well acquainted with each other. Perhaps too acquainted, giving the nature of the arena. With record breaking heat indexes, the arena was making a killing on coolant alone. At the end of the day, regardless of who won or lost in this silly tournament, the arena would surely come up on top.

Currently stashed away out of the site of viewers, currently enjoying the fruits of air conditioning, two groups of individuals waited. Each team of five had a small area to themselves. While loosely referred to as the 'Red' and 'Blue' teams, the rooms left to their disposal were aptly named 'Team One' and 'Team Two'. There were plenty of seats, a little station to clean armor- though the contestants had been asked to keep it light, to cater to both the heat index and overall nature of the fights- a table with light snacks, and datapads for the contestants to record their final testaments. You know, just in case. In the midst of the room should have played host to another table filled with weapons to choose from.

This death match, which probably shouldn't be called a death match at all, was run under very simple rules. Those rules were ones that not even the Gamemaster was aware of until just a few hours ago. For one reason or another, this was a no holds barred competition, minus the killing. It didn't seem right to have such a grand battle set up and yet no one was meant to actually die. In fact, it annoyed Cairyn to such an extent that he'd made it his goal to make at least the initial stages of the battle absolutely miserable for the contestants. Did they do anything meriting his wrath? No, probably not, but that didn't matter when he had the power. It wasn't fair to them, sure, but we don't always get what we want. No, instead of weapons that'd be useful to the lot, there was a collection of rusty spoons, bent forks, butter knives, loaves of bread.

When it came time for the battles to actually start, the contestants and their chosen 'weapons' were gathered, given instructions via droids. They hadn't much to say, nor were they open to questions. Your allies are in this room, equip yourself as deemed fit with materials provided, no killing. With those instructions, the teams were escorted to the arena's main level, entering from opposite sides of the field. Those of the particularly observant sort would make note that in the middle of the arena was another table, this one containing far more...desirable weapons. Others would notice that Ysalamiri cages were located in various spots outlining the arena as a whole.

In the balcony of his private box, adorned in the truly finest raiment the youth could possibly afford, the young Gamemaster observed with a cool gaze. He cast a near-blind eye to each small group in turn, taking a breath before addressing the crowd. "Welcome, welcome, blah blah blah, let's get this fight going!"

Spoiler

Red Team:

Spoiler

1. [member="Muad Dib"]
2. [member="Jack Anderson"]
3. [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
4. [member="Aedan Miles"]
5. [member="Aoker Veru"]

Blue Team:

1. [member="Daxton Bane"]
2. [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
3. [member="Rapax"]
4. [member="BX-25233"]
5. [member="Malok"]

 

[Darth Metus]

B L U E
Engaging - N/A

The Ma'alkerrite was...less than thrilled.

His irritation was not due to the sweltering heat of the day. His frustration had nothing to do with the perspiration causing his fur to clump in awkward places. No. What caused the Apex Commander grief was the sight of the "weapons" before him. Having signed up for a battle royale, Malok had anticipated bringing his absolute best into the fray. Yet, upon arrival on the red planet, the Ma'alkerrite was greeted with word that his arsenal was to be...stripped. He could wear only the lightest of armors to the contest of strength - and anything literal weaponry would be surrendered at the door. Initially, Malok thought that this was a perfectly rational measure of fairness: a simple check to keep the battle balanced.

And yet, the subsequent options caused his nostrils to flare.

"Is this a joke?" he seethed.

But before he had the distinct pleasure of voicing his irritation to his compatriots - Blue Team - the time for battle had arrived. Malok, despite his better judgment, played along with the utter madness. In passing, he reached out and seized a stale loaf of bread. It was...of the Naboo variety, by his estimation. About two feet long. Stale as all sin. It wouldn't save him in a real fight, but in this karkfest it might do some damage. Then, Malok squinted against the Light. The Geonosian sun gleamed into his eyes, encouraging the Ma'alkerrite to shield his gaze with his offhand. Against the glare, he was able to make out countless insectoid bodies forming the crowd. However, Malok soon turned his attention to the battlefield.

Sand. Plenty of elbow room. A few entrances in and out. Options in the middle.

"Alright Gamemaster, I'll play along." he breathed, trudging forth into the arena.

He didn't make a break for it yet, but Malok had his eyes on a prize.

Spoiler

[member="Muad Dib"], [member="Jack Anderson"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Aedan Miles"], [member="Aoker Veru"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Zenva Vrotoa"], [member="Rapax"], [member="BX-25233"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

Blue Team
Prior to initial contact

The figure is crimson and purple made no indication that he found the accomodations less than satisfactory. Soft hisses escaped from Daxton Bane suit which comprised of both armor and containment suit. When the event organizers protested, it took one glance at what it was containing to change their minds, a living walking orbalisk colony tends to do that rather quickly.

Before stepping int the arena proper, he offered to each of his team chance to connect to his battle mind. Not only would it give them a slight boost in physical attributes as well as speed, it would also allow each one of them to be aware of where the other was in the arena. An advantage that could prove useful in the chaos that was about ensue.

He ignored the wild cheers of the ground as they entered the arena proper, going down on one knees, he took a handful of sand, rolled it beneath his fingers before rising up, and with a clenched right fist signalled that they were ready.

[member="Malok"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Blue
Engagement : n/a
Song

The Blood Matron had paced off to a far corner of the room, her bizarre yellow-red gaze sweeping over her "teammates" slowly. She studied each one with mechanical efficiency, ever calculating, assessing each one's potential worth. Already the dark corners of Zenva's mind had begun to organize a list, who will live and who will die. The conscious mind of The Crimson Lady had not yet acknowledged the list's existence, but the carnivorous psychopath that dwelled in the blackest reaches of the Zabrak's twin hearts was already establishing a peeking order.

Zenva glided through the room, knee high riding boots clicking softly against the hard floors of the team's "locker room." She came to stand at the room's central table, the large, sweating Ma'alkerrite across from her. "My sentiments precisely, sir." She said softly, an unenthusiastic smile on her black painted lips. It seemed no one was amused with the weapons selection. With what seemed an almost absent mindedness, the woman's calloused crimson digits slowly gathered nearly every knife on the table. The exact definition of knife was subpar at best, but one more thing she could throw at a creature's eyes was still a weapon in her opinion.

"Well, at least they let me keep my armor." She said, her lips curling back to reveal serrated, shark like teeth. She brushed back her pale sand colored cloak, and started tucking the sad array of knifes into the belts and pouches of her black, and brown corset. The Blood Matron flashed the large Ma'alkerrite a wicked smile, placed a set of amber Shadez on her nose, and turned to pace slowing back to her chosen corner. Content for the time being to wait for the match to start.

The Sith in their midst made her an offer, which she promptly rejected. Going so far as to refuse to hear what benefits the man's offer might entail. She knew the man in an odd way, or at least recognized his presence immediately. She had felt his power, his presence in the Force, and that knowledge set her on edge. It had been years, long brutal years, since she had stood near [member=Daxton Bane]. Long enough to forget their one time meeting, and never long enough in her mind to forget the evil she had witnessed that day.

Before she could meet any of her other "teammates", droids arrived to draw the Blue Team out to the arena floor. Zenva hadn't even left the locker room before her cloak's hood was thrown over her horned scalp. A moment later The Blood Matron simply vanished. She palmed the two best knives she had found, one to a hand, and hunkered down along one side of their starting area. The plan formed immediately, and when the gates dropped for the fight to begin, Zenva would bolt for the weapons in the center of the arena. She almost felt badly for the first enemy she encountered, the poor sod was liable to be hit in the face with flat wear.

[member="Malok"]
[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Muad Dib]

RED TEAM

The me knelt in the room with eyes closed. A sense of meditation as rage and passion swirled around him. This was not a Jedi who found the immer calm nor a sith who reveled in anger and hate. This was something else. Passion, rage, serenity swirled around as he breathed calmly exhibiting a veneer that most who knew of the man would find odd and disorienting. He was a man who enjoyed combat and glutton acts of violence with a madness that could infect those around.

At the sound of the weapons room being opened he rose on a single smooth motion and joined the red team in gathering before the appalling display of choices at their disposal. Tossing his head back he released a throaty laugh that reverberated within the small chamber. Shaking his head in mirth he picked up a three foot long loaf of stale bread and rapped it upon the table with a resounding thunk of solidarity. A whisp of mold drifted from the hardened loaf. He stowed the bread into his empty series sheath upon his back.

Collecting a handful of butter knives he held them by their handles and looked at the blunt edges with a dismayed sense of joviality. Raising his right hand he focused the force and swept across the blades, melting the edges into sharpened usefulness. Sticking them into his belt he selected his most worthy, and epic weapon: the spoon.

Raising it in his hand he saluted the red team as the droid came in to leave the team into the arena. As they walked up the slope to enter the arena the theme for the red team began to play on the arena's loud speakers.

[youtube]https://youtu.be/K0K46C82v9o[/youtube]

Reaching the sands he felt the wavering within the Force as it was stripped away. Casting a glowing blue eye around the arena he spotted the force negating lizards throughout the perimeter. An amused grin crossed his face at another 'problem' instituted by the gamemaster, Cairyn. Taking a knee he grabbed a handful of sand and rose letting the grains filtered between clasped fingers.

This was the arena. Not his first and certainly not his last. He had shaped his body and skills in many a coliseum that resembled the petranki arena. This a type of home coming for the man. Many students had been honed under his watchful eyes on the sands. His blood had mingled on the sands of dozens of planets. Today the sand would quench it's thirst.

Turning to where the gamemaster rested in his private balcony Muad gripped the hardened loaf and raised it into the air.

"We who are about to die, salute you!"

He sheathed his bread-sword.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Malok"] [member="Cairyn Midore"]
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[Rapax]

Blue Team
Engaging: N/A at the moment..
Armor: In Bio

He dawned his immortal battle armor plating and used his racial traits to change his genetics to endure the heat of Geonosis in such armor incase the cooling system inside failed in the battle, He removed everything on that armor piece as far as attachments save for what cant be removed from the armor piece and the shield unit. As he was brought into the room with his team consisting of [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Malok"] and [member="Zenva Vrotoa"] all he has not met before, The weaponry was least to be desired but ti was something as he waited till everyone else collected there gear before grabbing all the forks on the table and putting them where he can access them even a few into the empty dart launcher and wrist launcher and grapple hook deployer that had the string still inside it but he simply set it up so that the forks tied around it would act like a old Cat-o-nine tails he Heated the ends to make them razor sharp.

As the droids moved them to the outside he could sense the yasalamiri bubbles that and well...he noticed his force connection was weakened to practical non existence, Which was something he expected as he might not fight those with the force and what is entertaining when a force user easily beats his opponent,He looked to the center of the Arena as he saw the table in the center with the more gladitorial weapons, Apparently he wasn't the only one with the idea as he saw Zenva dash for the center he joined her in her dash the moment he can get more conventional weapons the better off he will be. He had his genetics set up so that with or without the force he can be quick and hard hitting as he dashed to the middle.

[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

RED TEAM​

There was no heavy outburst of purple as Katrine Van-Derveld walked into the area, her blue gaze peeking at the crowd around the center as she stepped forward. Her outfit was light and essentially unprotected in the long run, a bit of slightly thicker leader over her front though surprisingly inspiring. Maybe she'd make use of the design later but for now, Kat was here to have fun, she'd decided before she felt a familiar feeling spreading though her entire body, recognizing the feeling she had felt not too long ago. "Ysalamiri," she muttered under her breath as she felt her connection to the Force cut. Katrine knew she hated those creates, even if she knew it was hardly their fault they existed. Their usage was what troubled her because the Force was her friend, her best friend in fact.

Where her weapons normally stood, at her belt, Katrine now held a butter knife and a bent fork, though she really wasn't sure why she'd even taken them. For fun, mostly. Sure, the fork could piece skin with enough force and the butter knife was still just too dull to be anything more than fun but Katrine enjoyed the fun.

It took her a moment or even two to gather her senses after the Ysalamari had done its business, relinquishing focus to the Force and shifting it to her senses. Usually, Katrine had a plethora of options which includes both the Force and her natural Lupine abilities but now, it was only the latter. In such, her senses adjusted to working on their own, her sense of smell hit her then, feeling the sandy feel of the arena; the roar of the crowd growing a little bit louder. Perhaps if things got a little crazy, she would change and if she did, all that would increase drastically. For now though, she was fine hearing a male voice speaking, turning her head to see pretty boy salute into the air with a loaf of bread. That was when she looked above, noticing the grand area, far more special looking than the rest of it. She turned and curtsied towards as she grinned.

Another look about gave her a reminder at who was red and who was blue team before her eyes zeroed in on the table in the center, her grin lessening into a smirk. "Oh good, real toys," she realized before spotting the two already running towards it. Katrine did plan on behind left hind on that game, bolting into a run, as fast as her humanoid Force un-helped form would let her. She was certainly behind the large armored man or the smaller formed hooded creature who had gotten a good head start. But Kat had her eye on a couple of swords present there which would certainly be right up her alley.

[member="Rapax"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Malok"] [member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

Daxton was amused to see someone was conderate enough to bring the Force negating lizards, not that losing the Force would hinder him one bit. He had been training just for that kind of scenario after all, as he flexed his muscles while the others raced ahead to the weapons platform. Beneath his armored containment suit, the colony of orbalisks sunk their claws into his flesh and directly injected a powerful venom into his blood stream, the burning sensation in his veins had grown to be a familar sensation as he felt his physical powers get augmented by their toxic touch.

Breaking off on a dead run, he charged directly at the opposing teams leader, intending to tackle purple haired young woman and deliver a powerful ground and pound before she knew what hit her. Perhaps [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] would pause at the sight of the puple and silver figure bearing down on her like a wampa bull in heat or perhaps not. Either way the crowd would surely roar its approval once first contact was made.

 

[Aoker Veru]

RED TEAM​

Post: 1
Aoker rose with his master at the sound of the weapons room opening. The meditation was exhilarating for him, he had never before felt this power, and even though he was just learning, he could feel his power increasing. He looked at the excuse for weapons that lay before him, and glanced at his master to see his response, although he did not laugh, when he picked up the loaf and sharpened the knives, he knew what to do. He grabbed two of the longest loaves he could find, six utensils, and focusing with all his might, he tried to sharpen them into spikes, with limited success. By the time they were good enough he was exhausted, but he refused to show weakness, it was forbidden. He then stuck them into one of the lives, and rammed the other loaf on top of them, creating a six and a half foot long staff.
He followed the others out to the field, the music and yelling of the crowd confusing him, why would they waste their time watching a fight when they could do something productive? He gave it no mind though, as he focused on the battle to come, he examined his opponents and partners, giving no show for the crowd as nany others did, he must win, his master said that was his goal so that was his only worry. When he saw [member="Daxton Bane"] heading straight towards him and [member="Muad Dib"] he set into defensive stance, ready to follow his masters instructions.
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Rapax"]
[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
[member="Malok"]

 

[BX-25233]

Team: Blue
Post: 1

Bx-25233 made it to the weapon selection room with a confused look when he saw all the weapon options. He made sure to look multiple times before coming to the conclusion that the weapons must have been misplaced with the kitchen supplies and since the games were just starting there was no time to fix this error but of course BX-25233 was wrong in this assumption but how was he meant to understand why butter knives, rusty spoons and loafs of bread were the only weapons available. BX-25233 decided that his durasteel fists were way better than any weapon available but was unsure if he was allowed to go in the arena with no weapon so instead he decided to rip his left arm off and place it on the weapon selection table then leave the room for a couple of minutes and come back and pretend that his ripped off arm was apart of the weapon selection. Once he did that he entered the arena waving his left arm like a club with sparks still coming from it's socket. Of course BX-25233 didn't like how his shard said it couldn't connect to the force for a unknown reason. All BX-25233 could hope for now was that someone didn't ruin his hat.

[member="Aoker Veru"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Rapax"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
[member="Malok"]
[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

RED TEAM​

Post 2

Full on running towards the shinny weapons, Katrine became aware of the tiny tickle beneath her sin as she furthered herself from the edges and the Ysalamari but none of it too far to actually release it and give her the power she needed. There were too many of them making their affect stronger, the blonde figured as she moved. Inside her, the animal teased to be set free but no, the young Lupine kept going.

Something large caught the corner of her eyes, her head turning just slightly to spot the shine of the fully armored suited speeding towards her. He was big, completely wrapped into the silver suit that probably weighed far more than the girl all on her own. Her Lupine form would have been faster in its run and could have jumped over the moving threat, perhaps even reach the weapons faster than she would have in her Dathomirian form. The decision had been made already, the half a minute required to change wouldn't have been enough anymore.

Katrine lost all humor he had for the bent fork and the butter knife in that very instant, her face turning serious as she kept running, watching the charging bull like a hawk, forcing herself to move faster and keep her run steady. She was well aware she had exactly one play available and if it was to succeed, the action needed to be done in a very precise second or she'd be hit. Of course, a skilled fighter would have predicted her action easy with the way she was moving but it was to get hit or try for the action and Katrine Van-Derveld wasn't the type to just take a pounding without doing anything.

Just seconds before [member="Daxton Bane"] would reach her, Katrine dropped onto her feet and her back arching back to make her just inches above the ground, the previous running speed giving her a boost as her lower feet slid across the sand. If he hadn't anticipated the action, she would slide right beneath his feet and past him which is exactly what Katrine was counting on as she'd risked the move, knowing full well that the alternative would have been a full on hit with his speed and size. He could probably still catch her, the sand wasn't gettingg her as far as a tiled floor would but provided it did work, she could go under and get behind him which was the least she could hope for considering the menace she was facing.

[member="Muad Dib"] , [member="Jack Anderson"] , [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Aoker Veru"] [member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Rapax"] [member="BX-25233"] [member="Malok"]

 

[Causstik Rahn]

As the fighters ran for the center of the arena, part of the coliseum began to shift and stir. The sand along the floor of the leftmost stadium began to move uncontrollably. Slowly the surface gave way to a large black hole as a trap door opened. It went unnoticed by most, but a few among the crowd did see and those few immediately began take up a new cry. The crowd shifted uneasily as words were spread around the arena. Geonosians clicked in their native tongue tirelessly,

“It’s the executioner!”

Came the first cry and soon enough the whole crowd had taken up a chant.

“CAUSSTIK, CAUSSTIK, CAUSSTIK!” They roared.

A loud noise like grinding gears could be heard as cogs and wheels turned, elevating the platform. Smoke rose out of the new pit and when the noise of the gears ceased all became silent. Slowly the fog began to dissipate revealing three humanoid silhouettes. A terrible blood curdling roar emanated from one of the figures and the crowd erupted in another bout of cheers. The three warriors emerged from the smoke and were revealed to be Trandoshans.

Causstik was clad in black, gold trimmed, phrik plate mail. The mail was adorned in fine jewels and the most coveted of these gems was the Void stone that allowed him to easily kill force users. Beneath the mail was Beskar chain armor, further protecting his joints and other weak points. He hefted his durasteel scimitar high into the air and the crowds cheers seemed to grow deafening. The blade’s hilt was lined in evony and the blade itself was encrusted with more jewels.

His two guards were chieftains from the toughest of his clans. They were less ornately decorated, but no less dangerous looking. They wore durasteel armor. One had a flail, while the other wielded a spear and shield. Together the three T’doshok began to approach the enemy that was everyone else. The heat of Geonosis was perfect for the Lizards cold blood and Causstik relished it. The Sithspawn eyed the other warriors with a toothy grin. He had been told not to kill the others, but he had already forgotten.

All he could think about was feasting on the flesh of the foes before him and claiming another trophy for the Scorekeeper. Slobber seeped from his jowls as he thought of rending the flesh from his enemies bones and consuming them whole. Causstik charged for the middle of the arena with his guards and they prepared to enter the melee.