Duel Galactic Kaggath Round 1: Fenn Stagg vs Balun Dashiell

[Mauve]

x

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!”

“It’s the judge. It’s the jury. It’s the karjr. The Mandalorian Commando. THE. FEEEEEENN STAAAAAGGGGGG.”

“AND. Facing him across the wroshyr, the High Republic’s own, the Jedi Padawan BALUN. DASHIELL.”

"CHALLENGERS! BEGIN!"

Fenn Stag | Balun Dashiell

 

[Fenn Stag]

VIOLENCE IS ALL I KNOW

Balun Dashiell​

“It’s the judge. It’s the jury. It’s the karjr. The Mandalorian Commando. THE. FEEEEEENN STAAAAAGGGGGG.”

He was by far, the epitome of that- judge, jury. And today, perhaps, executioner. He was crouched low, across from his opponent. A smaller, younger Jedi. Unfortunately for the Jedi before him- it took the Sword of the Jedi and her padawan to take him down with half his mind gone. He ran his hand- his remaining true hand, across the floor of where they were.

Grounding himself, he took a deep breath. He held his helmet in his right hand, standing tall, leaving the spear on the ground. He narrowed his eyes, his warpaint concealing all but the cruel blue eyes that stared down the Jedi. He slid the helmet over his head. In part, it was to show the Jedi that he was a man, not a faceless entity. He was nearly twice the size of the Jedi, both in height and in mass. Perhaps more experienced in violence, not just training. The Jedi trained to be balanced. To be knowledgeable. To be kind, to be poised and elegant, kind and helpful. Hours of study, reading, teachings, meditations.

Fenn trained to kill and nothing more.

"You may not die here, by my hand. I do not intend to kill you."

He craned his neck, as his HUD activated, coordinating to track his eyes to activate certain systems. He pulled his crushgaunts tight, rolling his fingers together. He looked down at himself, checking himself over once more, one final time.

"But you will suffer."

He leaned over the spear, picking it up and giving it a few slamming motions against the ground. The spear was once the property of Hakon Fett . He had come for Fenn's head. He failed. Fenn killed him in the dunes stars away from the Jedi, but the Jedi was going to feel the lethality and tenacity of the weapon. He took a deep breath, pacing back and forth. In the force, he was like his father in a way- angry, cruel, violent, poised- but focused. Like a wolf prowling in the night.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

“AND. Facing him across the wroshyr, the High Republic’s own, the Jedi Padawan BALUN. DASHIELL.”

"Ugh, I'm not a bloody Jedi..." Balun muttered begrudgingly under his breath as he took up his position some distance across from where Fenn Stag was crouched. The Wroshyr Tree that was to be their combat arena was far larger than the datafiles had ever done it justice, the single branch they shared alone spanned a greater width than one of Coruscant's skywalks, providing ample space for the agility that he could only presume would be crucial, judging by the look of his opponent.

Watching his opponent, and listening out for further instruction or for both fighters to otherwise be cut loose and the match be set underway, Balun took the time to quickly double-check his equipment. His Bryar Pistol was second nature to him, his thumb snaping back the button on the holster and drawing the blaster into one hand, raising it with the barrel pointing skyward before him within plain sight of his opponent while turning side on, so that Fenn would note that he wasn't taking liberties before the appropriate time was upon them. All was right with the firearm, and it would be returned to its leather holder against his left hip.

"You may not die here, by my hand. I do not intend to kill you."

"But you will suffer."

Balun had been halfway turned back to face his opponent when he heard the man's words, his hands padding down his somewhat make-shift variety of Force User robes and reinforced plating, one of his first sets of armour that he had created and adjusted to fit along the way for sentimental value. It still had good use, after all.

"I came here to make a name for myself. I don't need the credits, and I've no desire to kill," Balun replied, soon drawing his lightsaber hilt and pointing it off to the side, triggering the activation stud and sending the blade screaming into activity with a loud snap-hiss of amber energy. He would proceed to give the weapon a swift and fluid series of swings, only to fall into a settled stance once more and deactivate the weapon finally. "I am, however, an experienced fighter and I give you my word that I will give as good as I get," He concluded, soon lowering his head with respect to his opponent.

Balun didn't know Fenn; he had no reason to have anything against the stranger. They were both here with a purpose, and this was a competition of skill and martial prowess. Though his life was on the line with the Galactic Kaggath, Stagg's was not, unless, of course, the man, for whatever reason, stopped giving it his all mid-fight.

"CHALLENGERS! BEGIN!"

This time, Balun's Lightsaber flared into life once more and remained active, the thrum of activity feeding a constant vibration through his hand as the orange blade cast a warm glow at his feet. His left hand reached for his Pistol, capitalising on keeping is distance from the man's spear for as long as possible as Balun instead brought the firearm to bare, ironsights upon Fenn while he began to step backwards, his finger squeezing off four shots, one after the other as a start to guage the mans response.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

OR'PARGUUR BAL AKAAN

Balun Dashiell

​

He was prepared the moment the younger man drew the blaster. He wasn't experienced fighting like Fenn- that much he knew. The tell-tale signs of drawing a weapon were there- the Jedi telegraphed his movements too much early on, and Fenn had plenty of time to prepare- at least, prepare to take a hit. His helmet turned only slightly towards the weapon. A blaster. The cartridge pack and the vents allowed him to come to the conclusion. He liked his chances, wearing Beskar armor.

And when the Jedi fired four shots at him, knocking him to his knees but with only sharp TINGS to show for the man's effort- he was correct. Sparks flew on impact. The weapon was hard-hitting, and despite Fenn's size and musculature, the kinetic impact was still there. Less so than a slugthrower or other weapons- but there was still mass behind a blaster, kinetic energy and impact.

Fenn remained low, on his knees, breathing heavy. He stood still for a moment- and then, his right knee picked up from the ground just half an inch or so. The spear in his hands lifted up, angling across his chest, held horizontally-

And Fenn activated his jetpack from his knees, flying towards the Jedi, legs lifting up to safely scream across their arena. The spear came across his body, protection from the inevitable retaliation from the lightsaber, or perhaps to catch him in an attempt to dodge. Fenn went to close the distance on the two, and overpowering the Jedi physically was foremost on his mind.

But no words were spoken beyond that. There would not be.

Now, there was only hate and violence.


Translations:

1. Or'parguur bal akaan - Hate and War

​

​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

'Chit, Mandalorian Iron' Balun's expression hardened as he recognised the threat of his opponents' Beskar'gam. The blaster bolts had found their mark and hit with heavy impact, causing Fenn to falter. Yet, the man's armour was made of a metal that helped stoke the flames that followed in the wake of Mandalorian history, a culture famed for warriors whose combat abilities were renowned across the Galaxy. Balun himself did not have first-hand experience with their kind, but he had learned the history, and his interest in forging new technologies and weapons had naturally led him to read into what he could find on the Holonet regarding Beskar Iron. Not only would his Blaster be practically useless here, but his lightsaber was certain to have a hard time against the thickest parts of Stagg's plating. It appeared that he would need to look for weaknesses, not only in the armour but also in his opponent's technique in close quarters.

When Fenn Stag rose to his feet once more, Balun's body visibly tensed. He shifted his right foot back, while returning the blaster to its holster as he watched Stag turn his spear side-on, angled horizontally across his torso. It was a curious choice, unexpected. Balun had expected that perhaps he might try to throw it to cover the distance, but he was instead alarmed by the sudden activation of the Mandalorian's Jetpack. With such a distance between them, Fenn was now being propelled towards him, not high but across the arena that was the great Wroshyr branch they fought upon, picking up momentum all the way; Balun only had seconds before Stagg would be upon him.

He hadn't wished to rely upon the Force so soon into the fight, but given the urgency, Balun placed his weight on his back (right) foot, his right hand drawing his lightsaber down to his side while his eyes watched Stagg intensely. Feeling out every vibration in the flow of energies that moved between him and his foe, He attempted to time his aerial counterattack as precisely as possible. Energy pooled to him, power rushing inward as he channelled what strength he could in such few precious seconds before launching himself up into the air in a Force-assisted somersault, attempting a one-eighty degree spin whilst lashing out with his Lightsaber, a single-armed attack, light yet fast.

( Happy to leave it to you regarding whether Balun has the height to actually get clear of Fenn's attack given he had such little time to prepare. )

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

TWO SIMPLE WORDS
Balun Dashiell​

The attack hadn't done what he wanted, but it closed the distance. The two were within striking distance of each other. But the Jedi was a springy bastard. And quick. He went up and over him- and he heard the rushing of the blade behind and above him. He tucked his head back, the armored cowl protecting the back of his neck. The blade found purchase across his back, striking his jetpack directly. The jetpack- not made of Beskar but rather lighter materials, was cut deeply, sparks and fuel igniting internally, rendering it useless.

Fenn moved quickly, disengaging the magnetic locks that held it onto his armor, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. He approached the Jedi as he landed, giving the Jedi little respite despite a good attack on Fenn, removing a deadly threat for him and a valuable tool for Fenn. Armored hands grasped the spear tightly, and instead of thrusting it into the guard- he raised it up high, and drove it downwards like a sledgehammer into the Jedi's guard. And with nearly a foot of height and almost twice the mass of the Jedi before him-

His perfectly-executed Falling Avalanche was something to behold. And, it indicated that Fenn had fought, possibly even trained with Jedi before. Or at least knew enough of their tricks to turn it against them, and enough that in short-

That it was probably not a good thing to be on the receiving end of.

He was silent, he was ferocious as he attacked. No mercy, no respite, no pause. Just violence.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

As his blade met with solid mass and Balun spun through the air, he didn't have the time nor the visual acuity to note the accuracy of his strike. Slicing through whatever part of his opponent his blade had met, the amber lightsaber once more felt weightless as it left its mark. Gravity brought both Balun with his weapon and Fenn Stag with his Spear to the ground, followed by another part of his armour being caught by Balun's gamble. He didn't have time to make sense of what exactly he had achieved as his feet hit the solid bark of the Wroshyr Branch once more and looked back up to find that the Mandalorian Warrior was equally as quick to recover.

Stagg held the advantage while wielding his spear, the reach of his weapon greater than that of Balun's standard model of Lightsaber. Now knowing that his Blaster would be of little avail with the warrior still clad in beskar, Balun was forced to confront the risk of close-quarter combat against someone versed in fighting with a polearm.

Fenn Stagg had already raised the spear by the time that Balun had grounded himself and taken his lightsaber into both hands. Recognising the coming attack, his eyes widened as the spear came down with frightening strength. Not having the time to defend himself, Balun simply threw himself sideways to the ground as the weapon clashed against the bark where he had been standing; He heard it but he landed hard, unprepared for the sudden evasion and slightly winded, forcing himself to try to scramble to his feet in a bid to recover.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

SUFFER UNTO ME
​

Fenn felt the spear vibrate in his hands, smashing into the tree bark below their feet. It remained there, as he left it. A conscious choice- and Fenn turned, walking towards the Jedi who was scrambling to his feet.

And with frightening speed, power, and ferocity-

Went to kick him square in the chest. But not hard enough to break bone, to shatter ribcages. No, to get him to go back, if the kick landed. He sneered beneath his helmet, rolling his hands into fists.

"On your feet, Jetii."

A statement, a matter-of-fact. Fenn was not going to fight a man on the ground. He wanted the Jedi on equal footing, equal terms. He reached to his back, drawing his Beskad and stood tall. The dishonor shown by others would not be present by Fenn.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

Pushing himself up against the bark of the branch beneath him, Balun quickly turned back in a desperate attempt to lay his eyes upon his opponent. He had left himself open, broken his line of sight, and so too his defence. He needed to know where and what Fenn was planning next. His instincts were screaming at him to get up, to brace himself, but it was too late.

Balun found Stag too late. The man's armoured boot smashed against Balun's chest with such a collision that it felt as if he had been kicked by a Dravark. He had barely gained his footing, only to be taken off of his feet once more, hitting the ground hard on his back, the momentum of Stag's kick almost causing him to roll backwards, though he only made it halfway before having to contort his body, instead rolling sideways place some distance between them.

"On your feet, Jetii."

Hazily climbing back to his feet, staggering in his recovery, Balun tried to cough through the pain as he tried to clear his throat before taking in a deep breath and reorienting himself. Stag had shown him a mercy in a sense, choosing not to turn the spear on him while he was on the ground, something that Balun would not forget. It seemed that despite the ferocity in the man's approach to combat, there was also a sense of honour to be found. This was something that Balun recognised and could relate to, though he had been trained in the ways of the Jedi and lived a vastly different life than that of the Mandalorian culture, he too did his utmost to conduct himself with integrity. Especially in combat.

"Well met", Balun spoke up, keeping his gaze upon Fenn Stag as he offered the compliment, sincere and with respect, yet not making the mistake of letting his guard down a second time. He simply wished to acknowledge the other warrior's efforts, as well as his decision to allow Balun the opportunity to recover and to continue the fight on equal footing.

Once more, his lightsaber ignited with a sharp scream of plasma as the amber energy surged from the blade emitter and took its form, Balun bringing it to bare in both hands, blade held high in a readied stance as his feet parted and he shifted his weight forward. Fenn Stag, being an experienced fighter, might note that the younger man's body language suggested that he was balancing himself in preparation to go on the attack this time. A bid to make up for the momentum in the fight that the Mandalorian had thus far seemed to be winning.

Without a further word, Balun drove himself forward in full flight towards Stag. There wasn't a great distance between them, and thus he quickly drew the lightsaber down low to his right side, the blade trailing the wroshyr branch with every hastened step as he rushed the armoured warrior. Rather than meet Stag head on, however, Balun quickly stepped off to right, his foot touching down and leg bending as he called upon the force to assist with his momentum in a second sidestep this time clearing across to the left, a feint in an attempt to make Stag mistake his angle of attack.

It would be from the left side that his blade would come to be drawn high with both hands in a wide horizontal arc, attempting to cleave across the leg and right side of Stag's torso if his assault met its mark. While the Mandalorian's Beskar'gam was sturdy, the strength of Djem So applied in combination with elevated agility through use of the Force, Balun hoped to test the hold that the armor had upon it's wearer and to perhaps at the very least slow Stag down some. If he could not best the man's defences, then, perhaps he could hope to outlast him.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

YOU WILL NEVER KNOW

Balun Dashiell

​

The Jedi was fast.

Much faster than he anticipated.

The blade came fast, low, to his left, then to his right- then back to his left. A feint. He couldn't hope to bring the heavier Beskad up in time. He tucked his arm down, and the lightsaber slammed against his armor, sparks showering. The heat coursed through his flightsuit, singing the fabric and the skin underneath. He only let out a grunt of frustration as he felt the superficial burn on his left arm. The Jedi was able to tear through his defense with speed and speed alone. The Jedi could hear the grunt of pain, the success of his attack.

For this instance, at least. Fenn was not a one-trick pony, and neither was the Jedi he imagined.

Both of the Jedi's hands were on the hilt of his lightsaber. He was leaned over, cleaving into his side. Fenn was above him- and looking down at the smaller, shorter statured Jedi. He didn't cleave him with the Beskad, he didn't stab, slash like he imagined the Jedi wanted him to.

Fenn's right elbow came barreling towards the Jedi's exposed, unprotected face in the very close distance between the two.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

The two combatants collided together, and Balun had sealed his fate, thrown himself into the attack; there was no way of avoiding the plated shoulder that met him, carried by the full weight of Fenn Stag 's greater physique. The cold, impenetrable mandalorian iron plating hit him face first with such a force that it shook his head sideways, Balun's momentum and the sudden immovable retaliation from his opponent sent him into a spin, stumbling has he maintained his footing yet painstakingly steering himself away as his eyes were blurred by tears that had instantly welled.

Adrenaline from the fight carried him, yet the single blow had rattled his mind, and he hadn't the awareness to realise the damage that had been done. The bridge of his nose held a deep gash, the bone broken. Fenn would come to see the result of his quick thinking as Balun turned back around to face him, still staggered and raising his left arm to wipe his bloodied face with his sleeve. He could taste his blood, metallic and saline; his face was wet with it, and the pain was difficult to see through. He spat red, trying to rid himself of it, though to no avail.

'Grist, this isn't going well, ' he condemned himself, watching Stag closely. After taking such a heavy blow to the head, his confidence had been shaken, and so he decided to fall back once more on the defensive. There was still a fight to be had, and one to be survived at the very least. His opponent was more than worth his weight, that much Balun had learned firsthand. Yet his agility had paid off, so he had learned something about Stag at least. The weight of his armour, or perhaps it was the difference in their build, but the Mandalorian was slower than Balun was. If he could avoid any further blows to the head, maybe he could somehow still see this to the end.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

DOWN INTO MY WORLD
​

"Breathe through your mouth."

He offered the advice to the Jedi, noting his nose. Breathing would become labored, if not downright painful. But then again, Jedi were known for their trickery and control of themselves. Perhaps he was able to tolerate the pain with the force. Or perhaps, without it.

He walked- sauntered, even, forward, pressing into the Jedi's guard with a slither-step motion. He brought the Beskad across his body- and went to slam into the Jedi's guard. And with the added benefit of a physical blade, once in his guard he hoped to press with his left hand on the blade, hoping to push the Jedi's guard in. Either way, he wanted to test the Jedi's remaining mettle.

Fenn was not one to count on early victories. He did not have the overconfidence or zealotry of others, the self-assurance of victory. He had been in too many fights, wars, battles, and bounties to know that at a moment's notice, victory could slip away with just a singular instance of choice, consequence, or happenstance.

Either way, he pressed his attack. The Jedi was too fast to allow any moment of respite- if he didn't keep up the attack, he risked the Jedi beginning to outmaneuver him.