Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Duel Galactic Kaggath Round 1: Lysander von Ascania vs 5-WCH Switchblade

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Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania vs 5-WCH (Switchblade) 5-WCH (Switchblade)

The arena floor rumbled and shook, the entire surface sliding open like a missile silo to reveal… an enormous Wroshyr tree rising up from the lower levels. It towered so high that its upper branches crested the arena and stood nearly eye level with the skybox. It sat upon a grassy, fern littered field. Amid the ferns, shapes prowled. Dangerous predators. Vornskrs. Force hunting beasts.

The boughs of the Wroshyr tree criss-crossed, forming limbs as wide as Coruscanti skywalks that the combatants could duel upon.

Droids hovered in the air around the tree, some with cameras, but many projecting interlinking rayshields so that the duelists could not interfere with the duels of the others. Of course… ray shields could always fail.

If any of the combatants fell to the ground far below, they risked being set upon by the vornskrs.

The announcers’ disembodied voice cut through as the combatants took their places on the boughs of the tree. “Honoring those who fell in the Battle of Kashyyyk between the One Sith and Republic, so many years ago, I give you the FIRST ROUND of the GALACTIC Kaggath!”

“A solider, a poet, a king…someday, maybe. Today, good audience, we find out if the pen is mighter than a cold heart made of durasteel. He’s the Wayward Bard of the von Ascania royal family. Hailing from Ukatis, LYSANDEEEEEEEER VON ASCANIAAAAA!

“Even if our noble warrior poet can defeat his opponent, he might find a target on his head. Facing off against Lysander, it’s the BOUNTY HUNTER’S GUILD CHAMPION. He has ‘REVENGE’ engraved on every circuit in his system, welcome into the ring: SWITCHBLAAAAAAAADE!”

“CHALLENGERS! BEGIN!”
 

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CHAMPION OF THE GUILD

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania

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The droid stood expressionless as the giant tree of Kashyyyk rose from the ground.

Switchblade stood on the planet, gazing down below as the massive organism began to fill the air. Quick scans revealed some sort of predatorial creature below, but the droid was too far away to identify which one. They would be of no bother to him. The droid's only focus was on the opponent set out for him. A boy of the name Lysander. The hunter's only assumption was that he had left home in search of a greater glory, choosing to compete in the biggest tournament the galaxy has ever seen. Scanning through the datalogs of the holonet, Switchblade learned that the boy was of some noble descent. Aristocrats were treated no differently during a hunt than a normal target. No such pleasantries would be offered.

Reaching out a metallic leg, the droid stepped onto the limb of the tree. There were a few tricks up his Durasteel sleeve that would soon be revealed. All in due time. Flashy introductions or dances were not given by the droid. Those came after the kill.

Turning his own scanners to infrared, Switchblade slowly began to observe the area ahead, searching for the boy. It would only be a matter of time before the droid located him...or the droid was located himself. Either way, he would ensure that his own weapons would be the first to strike.


All of this gear will be revealed in character, but if you want to peak now, these are the items that Switchblade is equipped with:
 

Each exhale that passed through the rebreather system, customized for the acolyte’s helm, was calculated; it was regulating the flow of oxygen, which served to calm his nervous system before the impending clash. Poised in a stance suggesting his readiness, Lysander would lurk in the shadows, absorbing the waves of energy pulsing through the area. Anticipation, excitement, and even dread, it all mingled in the currents of air like a toxic elixir.

As the announcer's words echoed through the arena, labeling him as a poet, Lysander felt a flame suddenly ignite within; it was a title he wore with pride, though his words on paper had only ever been dedicated to one individual, who in return had made him feel foolish and naive. Bleeding out his own heart had only left him hollower, shattered even. But there would be no sorrow, nor pity; rather, only his gaze narrowing like the wound that simply would not close, and gloved fingers curling tight into a fist.

It still hurt.

By the time the words shifted over to his opponent, Lysander was already tapping into the unhinged and powerful emotions swirling about through the air, harnessing them to fuel his strength. With the skill of Force Essence, passed down to him by his Master, Revna Marr Revna Marr , he greedily consumed the currents that were stirring wildly. Anger, hatred, awe, and for some.. hints of uncertainty, it all coursed through him the same, feeding the storm of power now waiting to be unleashed.

Summoning Force Cloak, Lysander crouched low before propelling himself up onto a high branch, using the terrain to his advantage. All movements were silent and unnaturally fast as the boy sprinted across the uneven ground.

This match reminded him of when the Mandalorians invaded Naboo, back when he was just a confused Padawan, and they exploited the Mid Rim's weaknesses. One particular foe back then had an answer for every move, aided by technology that could read his intentions before he even struck.

But Lysander pushed on, falling into motion and then dropping from above. A single hand extended, unleashing a sudden burst of Force energy towards the ground near his opponent. The intent was not to cause destruction, but to control the rhythm of this battle. The shockwave of moss, dust, and bark erupted with sudden violence, an attempt to disorient any sensors or scanners that the droid may need to rely on.
 

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CHAMPION OF THE GUILD

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania

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The datalogs showed no record of the boy being Force-sensitive.

For the first time in quite a while, the droid felt a sense of surprise. He had prided himself on being vigilant and hyper aware of his surroundings. It is what he had reprogrammed himself to be. But, in rare occurrences, there were things that zeroes and ones would not be able to predict.

Suddenly, pieces of the branch exploded in front of Switchblade. The sensor in which he used to try and detect his opponent were now blinded by various chunks of moss and wood. All he could rely on now was his main photo receptors. Stumbling backwards, the droid tried to regain his footing. It did not help though that the blast of Force energy pushed the limb of the tree downward. Tension and kinetic energy soon built. In a matter of seconds, the branch whipped violently upwards, sending Switchblade careening into the air.

Two of the Tanuki droids already scurried away at the first sign of danger. However, the other two were shot into the air as well. Grabbing onto the branch above, the bounty hunter's servos whined as he pulled himself up. While still not entirely sure where his opponent was, it would appear to the crowd that the two had switched positions. Switchblade was now above, with Lysander having already dropped down below.

One Tanuki droid fell back down onto the branch in front of his opponent. A violent, yet only mildly frightening metallic hiss screamed from its jaw. The one that had flow into the air was now looking down at the boy, hissing as well. Both of them now alerted Switchblade to where the boy stood.


"It's not too late to call it quits, kid. To go home and live your life."

While giving Lysander one final warning, the droid began to raise his assault rifle. His opponent might have time to react before a shot was fired, but that was a risk that the droid was willing to take. The barrel slowly rose to meet the chest of Lysander.

"Final warning."

A finger sat idly on the trigger, waiting for any sign of movement that wasn't a surrender. Though he would have no hesitation killing a child. It had been done before.

All of this gear will be revealed in character, but if you want to peak now, these are the items that Switchblade is equipped with:
 


The instant their roles reversed, a cold stillness settled over the acolyte. His breath was slow now, each rise and fall of his chest like a tempest. Fury churned wildly beneath his skin, but not the fiery kind of anger, but instead the white-hot pulse that threatened to consume him from within. Behind the helm's visor, his eyes narrowed, watching as the droid hissed. A hollow menace to be sure; to Lysander, it was more of a feeble attempt than any true threat. Not a flicker of reaction betrayed him; his frame remained firm, unmoving, the calm before the storm.

As the rifle lifted, his chin rose, as though embracing the pain to come, surely but a fraction of the stinger left by weeks of betrayal and silence. Something raw began to coil within, a tangled web of grief, abandonment, and even years of blame, etched into his being.

The Force was no incantation to be summoned when calm, but born from wounds too deep for healing, and soon pulsing in the hollow of the acolyte's chest. His jaw clenched as breathing shifted into a slower rhythm, drawing deeply. With that clarity, the energy swirled around him, unseen, but full of intent.

There was no need for a grand display, but the Force Barrier rose like a wall of liquid glass, tension vibrating through its surface. Unlike cold and mechanical defenses, this shield bore the weight of raw emotion. Lysander stood ready, every fiber prepared, for the moment the barrier would finally be pushed to its limits. Words brushed along his lips, as if he'd carried them too long to keep inside any longer.

"Let it come," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion.

Even the Force knew he spoke no lie.

With every shift, each metallic grind, and every creak of limbs, he built a map of the surroundings within the recesses of his mind; his awareness, enhanced now, was just as sharp as the blade he carried. It stretched around the area like a web of death. No longer was he limited to only what was before him, but he could also feel the presence of every living thing that dared to exist in his domain. It would sing to his senses, and be prepared to guide the following moves.

 

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CHAMPION OF THE GUILD

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania

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Rapidly, the droid pulled the trigger on his rifle, firing off multiple shots.

Switchblade did not have highly advanced sensors that would allow him to detect the Force Barrier. So, he simply dismissed it at his photo receptors glitching out ever so slightly. The bullets rang out from the barrel of his weapon, echoing against the nearby branches. Full auto allowed him to fire off twenty rounds, about half of the extended magazine size.

Before the droid could see if the bullets made contact with Lysander (or unknowingly, the Force Barrier), the bounty hunter began to move inward, heading closer to the trunk of the tree. Once more, he began to swing around the muzzle of the rifle at the boy, preparing for any surprise reaction that might be taken.

While all of this was taking place, the Tanuki droid on the same branch as his opponent lunged forward, aiming to bite his leg with a vicious bite. The small droids had even weaker processors than Switchblade, so they were unaware of the Force Barrier as well. This did not stop the one above the boy to leak down from the top branch, loosely aiming for his shoulder.

The remaining two Tanuki droids stuck close to Switchblade as he repositioned. Now that he knew the boy was Force-sensitive, the hunter's method of attack was going to need to be modified. Letting go of the rifle so only one had held onto the weapon, Switchblade reached down towards his metal hip, grabbing a Dioxis grenade. Flicking the safety pin off, a small cloud of green gas ever so slightly began to pour out. But there was not enough time for the droid to throw it just yet.

He would just have to wait and see what happened next.


 

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