Duel Round 2: Arris Windrun vs Drystan Creed

[Razmir Tezhyn]

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Arris Windrun vs Drystan Creed​

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 dueling 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!”

“WELCOME to the SECOND ROUND of the FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH!”

“Allow me to introduce: she fatally wounded her opponent in the previous round and now stands poised to do it again, ARRIIIIS WINDRUUUUN!”

“Facing off against her in this battle of martial spirit against cold steel: the Jedi Shadow with fists that will tear down the heavens, DRYSTAN CREEEED!”

"FIGHT!"​

 

[Drystan Creed]

ROUND 2

The soft footfalls approaching the arena were drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Drystan walked out, cloaked in the very shadows of the entrance.

Discarding his now-damaged gi, he revealed a new attire—simple shorts that stopped just above the knee, opting for something more revealing. But the flowing red headband remained, a constant. Over his body he wore a loose robe, its hood obscuring the upper half of his face.

His relaxed shoulders, fluid posture, and casual stride exuded calm—bordering on nonchalance. Even as the soles of his bare feet touched the molten rock of the stage, he didn't flinch.

Tear down the heavens?

A grand boast from the announcers. He scoffed. He had no intention of doing that—yet. That would be for the finals. For now, the summit was still far away, and there was plenty of mountain left to climb.

Continuing his ascent, his eyes locked firmly on his opponent. He pulled down his hood and offered a respectful nod.

"It is a privilege to fight with you today."

He took his stance—left prosthetic arm drawn behind his back, knees bent, his center grounded. Then, his right arm lifted forward, bent, palm turned inward. A beckoning posture.

With a slow wave of his hand, he invited her forward.

Come. Let the battle begin.

Arris Windrun

Spoiler: The Fit and the Aura

 

[Arris Windrun]

The cyborg walked through the haze of the scorching hot arena.

Seeva was still inside the drone control system, which meant three camera drones in orbit of their showdown were linked into Arris' coprocessor. Offering an extra pair of eyes and whatever tricks her Herglic friend might cook up in the coming duel.

The damage from her last fight? Tattered hair, torn skin, exposed subdermal armor, damaged servos, and one cybernetic right arm--fully replaced with pristine finish to contrast the wear-and-tear on her left.

"That's all?" she began to undo the holsters that hung at her side. Two of the same guns that Arris had pointed out were a pair she typically wore at her side.

Another new addition was Tai Corde's holsters, each sporting a pair of Ambassadors, married to the gunbelt around her waist. A lit cigarra was held between two well-worn fingers. Arris brought it to her lips and dragged it down to the roach in a single breath by way of her artificial lungs. She flicked the rest into the red-hot glow and clenched her fists in a fighter's stance. Those same peculiar packages were still strapped to her inner torso, and so far, only Vagabond had the particular pleasure of finding out what they were.

She eyed her opponent, regarded his words, and answered only with a rush of movement to close the gap. Her left fist extended in a quick, electrified jab, tuned all the way up. A punishing blow for the unwise, yet the scrappy shockboxer expected anything but an easy knockout, especially with that stance.

Spoiler: Gear

Her cybernetics [X]
Built-in shockmitt (left only) [X]
x2 Tenloss Ambassadors [X]
'Mystery Packages' [X]

Drystan Creed