Second Sith-Imperial Tournament - NFU Three-Way Battle

[Darth Carnifex]

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The Shâsot Skyhook Arena
Lorrd

High above the world of Lorrd, and tethered by many reinforced cables and repulsorlifts, was a magnificent skyhook of glittering metal and sparkling reflective glasteel. Recently constructed at the behest of the Imperial Directorate, the Skyhook was made for one purpose and one purpose only.

To prove a warrior’s strength.

Inside was a massive arena, nearly a hundred meters across and almost twice that in length. Around it was high walls, taller than any beast or sentient creature, with an electrified energy field projecting all the way up to the ceiling. The field bowed in towards the middle, curving as it traveled up to form a sort of tapered point when it reached the secondary generator built into the skyhook’s ceiling.

Outside of the energy field was a miniature community, endless rows of seating, private boxes, concession bazaars, gambling hubs, and residential living. Everything was arrayed perfectly to ensure that those who came to witness the looming battles had every convenience at their fingertips. Nothing was more magnificent than the high-rising tower reserved for the Emperor and his entourage, which afforded them the best view of the entire arena and was equipped with multiple commodities not found elsewhere in the skyhook.

As the days counted down towards the grand start of the Second Sith-Imperial Tournament, tens of thousands of wealthy Imperial citizens flocked to Lorrd to partake in the spectacle. Members of the Empire’s military aristocracy were among the first to arrive, themselves afforded a special privilege in acquiring the private boxes closest to the arena floor. Imperial bureaucrats, lesser military, and others followed shortly after to fill in the remaining ranks. For those either too far from Lorrd or unable to travel for any means, the tournament was to be broadcasted live to every member world of the Sith Empire.

The day of the tournament arrived, and the arena was packed beyond capacity.

Anticipating hung in the air like a deathly pall, and a hush fell over the crowd as the massive floodlights dimmed until only one remained to highlight the announcer’s podium. And upon that podium was a sight to behold. A figure, clad in purples, surely a pinnacle of fashion somewhere, the remnants of a laugh as he stepped up to his post. His arms spread wide as if to welcome each and every audience member.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all. It is with my deepest pleasure that I welcome you to this test of ability.” Clasping his hands together, a few of the intricate tattoos that took up much of his arms began to glow. With it, images of the combatants cycled through, the details of each image a bit too exact to be holograms.

“We have quite the treat for you all this day, but enough from me. Why don’t we meet some of our contestants? In fact, why don’t we just cut to the chase? What say you, contestants? Ready for some sweet, sweet, bloodshed? A rush of adrenaline?”

“Let the games...begin!”

Contestants: [member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Ravik Munin"] | [member="Thorne"]
Terrain: River
Variables: N/A

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

LORRD SYSTEM

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Shâsot Skyhook Arena; Lorrd.​

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The arena suspended above the planet Lorrd was impressive, an overly large structure commissioned solely for the purpose of combat, if the news was believed. Personally, Mitth'orn'eruod could believe it, as the Sith Empire often spared no expense on whatever endeavors it sought to pursue. The crowds were deafening, the sounds of thousands of feet and limbs above, hands and extremities clapping, voices chanting and cheering. For the Chiss, where life was highly regimented and controlled, with social engagements respectful and mannered, it was a little surprising. Surely such an event for three combatants wasn't worth such an outcome? And yet, Mitth'orn'eruod couldn't deny that here they were, the crowds and the holovids sharing the upcoming bout, and very soon it would be time to engage in combat with skilled opponents.

Dressed in his simple light armor, little more than durable leather with reinforced portions on the forearms and shins, Mitth'orn'eruod tightened one strap on his left arm. Both inwardly and outwardly the Chiss was calm, his face passive, his stature composed and prepared. One didn't signup for a tournament only to begin feeling nervous, inviting weakness and potential of loss, after all. Instead, Mitth'orn'eruod was focusing himself, his mind busy reciting and performing several of the Nine Edicts of the Teräs Käsi martial art; of which the Chiss was quite masterful, having trained for many years with teachers of the technique. He maintained control, focusing on the edicts that demanded centering of the mind, body and soul, those that allowed a combatant to prepare before a fight, offering a form of meditation and calm resolve. Other edicts were specialized for immediate action, some for reactionary action, aimed at forcing the Teräs Käsi user to adapt to the situation and reach a state of preparedness despite the circumstances.

But in this instance, Mitth'orn'eruod had time.

The Chiss didn't need to rush or react with the other edicts, which were proclamations passed down by the Grand Masters of Teräs Käsi, that formed the basis for the martial arts style and techniques, and state of mind and body that allowed it to be effective against practitioners of the Force. So, with his armor ready, his mind centered and his body prepared, Mitth'orn'eruod began warming up. The announcer would soon introduce the combatants, of which Mitth'orn'eruod had no idea whom he faced, and then the tournament would be underway - for better or worse. A few quick kicks, followed by several moments of stretching, as well as some rapid punches and arm rotations saw the Chiss Admiral as ready as he could be against the unknown.

The rules for the bout indicated weaponry was allowed, of which Mitth'orn'eruod had no need. Still, also adhering to the principals of the Red Flame - a Chiss belief system - caused him to have a concealed charric blaster on his person, just in case he faced foes that wished to remain at distance and blast their way to victory. Certainly not one of Mitth'orn'eruod's strengths, his aim was acceptable for a naval officer, his real skill remained in close quarters combat. In truth, such a skill-set was probably odd, with most officers being trained more so in ranged weaponry, so Mitth'orn'eruod hoped the deviation from the expected would work to his advantage.

It sounds like the announcer is speaking. It is time.

From across the preparation room, one of the guards motioned. The door opened. Without hesitation, Mitth'orn'eruod walked through and out into the arena beyond. There was an immense cheering from the crowd, as the sound seemed to triple, clearly the observers worked into an excited frenzy from the sentient that spoke from a podium. Taking stock of the arena itself, Mitth'orn'eruod noted that it seemed centered around a river based terrain, with portions of land that elevated and lowered, had grass, embankments and of course the flowing river itself. The Chiss wondered how deep the river was, trying to gauge the depth visually, but without testing it wasn't viable for accuracy. There also remained the question of where the other two combatants were located, as Mitth'orn'eruod had been informed of the three-way battle to take place prior...

"Let the games... begin!"

Mitth'orn'eruod rolled his neck, before walking toward the middle of the arena at a quickened pace. The fight had begun in earnest, and the Chiss combatant was ready...

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[member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Ravik Munin"]​

 

[Samara Raine]

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Lorrd, Lorrd System, Outer Rim, Known Regions​

Shâsot Skyhook Arena​

CA Delegation - Spectator​

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After making sure Mitth'orn'eruod was set and did not require any medical attention prior to his competition, Brask'ari'sabosen farewelled the Admiral with an encouraging yet curt 'good luck', then the Chief Medial Officer made her way from the preparation area up to the box seating the Chiss Ascendancy delegation had been given to watch the match directly from.

To say she thought this a good idea for the upcoming Chiss leader to do... Well, Brask'ari'sabosen did not believe it was worth the risk for such a non-military glory, though the doctor's personal concerns and/or feelings for the man's well-being and safety was not for her to voice out loud as she had no formal ties to him.

The High Admiral of the CEDF had given his young protégé permission to represent the Ascendancy on this galactic stage so therefore she too would put her support behind the foolish task that lay before Mitth'orn'eruod... but Brask'ari'sabosen didn't have to like it. No, especially with him wearing minimal armor if even that, and using only his strategic mind and skilled body to defend himself and attack the other two competitors for the win.

Brask'ari'sabosen did have faith in him though. Miith'orn'eruod was a Chiss after all, and a highly trained officer at that. He should fair well, hopefully.

Hushed wagers could be heard being made from behind her in the box. The CMO turned around in her seat and glared at them dismissively, then returned her crimson gaze back to the arena below and the familiar figure who came out first seemingly ready to rumble.

Of course the whole time the she had been biting the inside of her cheek to keep a smirk from showing as Brask'ari'sabosen had herself made a bet with her father, Mitth'oru'sabosen, before leaving Chiss space on the outcome. All the Sabosen woman would say is Mitth'orn'eruod better best the other two without being maimed or killed too much. A lot was riding on the friendly wager between the two close family members. It would mean a lot to her if he didn't die.

[member="Thorne"] | [member="Ravik Munin"] | [member="Anden Fancelo"]​

Spoiler

I was given permission by those involved to post as a spectator. It is for flavor only and will be minimal from now on. I do not mean to interrupt the fight. Good luck to all and.... Goooooo Blue!

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QO94PVvci68

Anden Fancelo​

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Lordd, Shâskot Skyhook Arena​

Objective: Await violence.​

Enemy Combatants: [member="Thorne"] | [member="Ravik Munin"]​

Spectators: [member="Karisa"]​

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Among the architecture and tech that complimented the well composed skyhook arena, Fancelo was within a room of preparation gathering his things. The arsenal provided to him was familiar, but limited. It mattered little though, for it was only a mere bout between three contestants. Though as far as he was concerned, he knew he was the only one from the Empire's military. Considering the crowd, he had expectations to fulfill and he needed to display the military's might well. The predicament struck a nerve as he was mildly unsure of what were to ensue if he were to fall short on his display of strength. All eyes would be on him, and his performance may affect the morale of the troopers for better or worse. But most importantly, it'll affect his troopers. He let out a soft sigh, it being silenced by the thunderous ruckus caused by the crowds outside. Anden identified the gravity of what would come, and the identification of such brought clairvoyance to him.

The light of it, convinced him of one thing. And that was to ignore the crowd and do what he does best. Survive. Fancelo approached the table that held his light arsenal, holding the signature armor of the Gravewalkers and his Gile-50 Sidearm. He took a hold of his weapon and inspected it for a moment, turning over to a target and taking his time to fire a few shots. It got to a point that the recoil was significantly lower for it was well-tuned by techs to be at a low setting, enough to be considered non lethal. He merely holstered it and took a hold of his armor, starting to 'field strip' it. Having the chest piece separated from the undersuit, he hoisted it over him and slipped it on like a tactical vest. Adjusting the straps and rolling his shoulders in place. The vest was somewhat heavy, but it was significantly lighter than the entire armor. Good enough. He glanced over towards his helmet taking a moment to ponder. He considered bringing it.

The planning and strategy was interrupted by the words of the announcer. The guard within the room, prompted the Captain that it was time. The Gravewalker made a decision and left the room without the helmet. He was exposed to the light, and the thunderous noise of the crowd. The individual stood still for a moment as he assessed the environment. Taking in a deep breath, as he rested his hand over the holster of his sidearm.

"Let the games... begin!"

It was time, and Anden took in a low profile slouching down lightly and proceeding onward to the middle of the Arena, intent on making contact with the other combatants.

 

[Adenn Munin]

Tags: [member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Thorne"] | [member="Karisa"]

Glory. That was all he was here for, and he would attain it. Typical for a man like him at his age and dangerous occupation. It was how he lived when adopted into the clan and the Mandalorian Culture, and it made him feel alive. When the opportunity was presented by his Alor, he could not pass it by. It was perfect to impress his fellow clansmen, climb the hierarchy of his clan, and sate the gods his clan worshipped that would allow them to rest in the Manda if completing deeds for the clan.

The young marauder readied himself in a preparation room that was well equipped with fine technology. The whole infrastructure of this coliseum was state of the art. A symbol that showed exactly how prosperous and mighty the Sith Empire was to the galaxy. They kept their people content and happy with materials and other values such as this kind of entertainment. Unlike many Sith Empires in the past, this one certainly knew to treasure the loyalty of its subjects, rewarding them back with luxury. But Ravik had no lust for materials and other objects people seem to need in order to complete their lives. The only greed and lust he carried was that of battle and driving his enemies to ashes. That satisfied his hunger.

The Mandalorian was ready in light armies built by the hands of Munin clansmen, armor that was best suited for this kind of situation. Not a battlefield, just a fight that wouldn’t require ludicrous technology. Along with his armor he carried a glave spear, a Mandalorian ripper pistol, and a combat knife. As ready as he could be, he was at the gates only waiting to enter the pit. Moments later the announced declared the fight to commence and the warrior stepped in, processing his environment and opponents as he walked with determination. The way he walked spoke in dialects that he was hungry to bleed his opponents. There were rules to follow and one was to not kill, but that did not mean he couldn’t break bones or cause suffering to the other two combatants.

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

LORRD SYSTEM

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Shâsot Skyhook Arena; Lorrd.​

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The terrain of the arena allowed for some basic cover, should it be needed. Rocks, some trees, but mainly they surrounded the wide river that ran through the middle of the fighting space. As a result, Mitth'orn'eruod saw his opponents fairly easily, if only due to the Chiss ability to see into the infrared spectrum. The body heat from the pair was obvious when compared to the surrounding flora and water, which were cooler by comparison. Still, just because the Admiral was aware of their positioning as they approached the middle of the arena, did not mean he could let his guard down or presume advantage. Instead, Mitth'orn'eruod closed the distance also, ensuring to keep his positioning as such that - should he need to - he could seek cover behind rocks, to avoid any ranged weapons fire.

The crowd was in state, roaring and cheering, as they watched the scenario play out below. Mitth'orn'eruod tried his best to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand, as he worked his fingers, stretching them against the others, loosening the digits. His hands would be his main method of attack, and the last thing the Chiss needed was to break something by not being warmed up and prepared. As it was, the tension in the air was palpable and would only become more intense as the fighting began.

"I am Admiral Thorne of the Chiss Ascendancy," Mitth'orn'eruod called out, knowing it would give away his position also, but he wanted to show his opponents sportsmanship. "It's an honor, sentients."

The Chiss then began moving more quickly toward the river, where he suspected the convergence point would be, still keeping the rocks close by just in case. He wondered who would throw the first attack, with Mitth'orn'eruod instead wanting to approach the combat from a defensive standpoint. At least initially. Once the attacks were coming, he would certainly change things up and seek out opportunities to be martially offensive as they appeared...

"I'm ready when you are."

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[member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Ravik Munin"] | [member="Karisa"]​

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Anden Fancelo​

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Lordd, Shâskot Skyhook Arena​

Objective: Commence Violence​

Enemy Combatants: Thorne | Ravik Munin​

Spectators: Karisa​

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It did not take long for the lone Gravewalker to spot his two opponents during his venture to the center of the ring. After all, their gear wasn't really blending in with the lush environment that was their designated terrain for the match. Not with all those metallic colors and grays. But Anden was at this disadvantage as well. Especially by the keen eyes of the admiral and perhaps the perception of the purposed Mandalorian. The Captain took a halt to his steps, as he slowly unbuckled the strap that kept his sidearm from being taken out from the holster. He readied himself to draw, looking over towards the admiral first as he spoke.

The Admiral introduced himself.

Fancelo carried an apprehensive feeling to the unusual sign of sportsmanship from the admiral, afraid it might be a trap. But this was his first experience in an arena. With a glance around the area, he bowed his head in respect. As he replied in reciprocation to such sportsmanship.

"Captain Anden Fancelo, sir. 7th Field Army. Battle Group Six. Fortune be with us, sir." The Gravewalker introduced himself, before glancing over towards the Mandalorian. A disgruntled look came upon him.

Mandalorians... damned obstacles. He recalled his times in the Acerbitas, the fate that came upon his comrade those many weeks ago, the captain was still bitter. But he remained, his hand hovered over his holstered sidearm cautiously as he kept his gaze over to the Mandalorian, curious if he were to follow along with the new trend the trio has made for this match. Or if he were to strike first.

 

[Adenn Munin]

Honor belongs to one's family and clan, not to the enemy​

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An important lesson that Ravik was taught during the initiation stages of becoming a warrior of Clan Munin. Words that will never be erased. Many in this new era believed the Mandalorians fought with honor as it was an important aspect in a Mandalorian's life. They had only misinterpret that, believing a delusion they themselves created. What was ironic was that several Mandalorians hold dear to these beliefs.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

There were no rules in war, and it was quite foolish to believe that the enemy would share similar ethnics to war. Kill or be killed. Victory or defeat. He only sneered at those that believed there was honor in combat. To hell with all that. Ravik had intentions to win and he would do anything to achieve it, even fighting dirty.

The two other combatants shared the pleasantries between them, and they would receive no word from the Munin. No, they would receive the sharp cold from the blade of his spear. His first target would be the Imperial. Using the flat side of the glaive's blade the Mandalorian would submerge it into the water, the blade somewhat burying into some of the terrain below the water, and then whipping it out in an arc towards the Imperial; hoping some would catch on his face. He then approached, using the spacing between he and the soldier properly, and attacking the man with a left-to-right diagonal slash across his body. If success were to be found, the momentum of his glaive would come in and then thrusted out in attempts to impale the man with the glaive's blade.

He would make them feel as if they were fighting for their lives and not confuse this as some gentlemen's brawl.

[member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Thorne"] | [member="Karisa"]​

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

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LORRD SYSTEM​

Shâsot Skyhook Arena; Lorrd.​

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One of the humanoids introduced himself, to which Mitth'orn'eruod nodded in response. At least he now knew which opponent was which, having only previously known a name from the bracket information provided. The other was clearly a Mandalorian, Munin, judging by the focus and intensity displayed. The spear looked like it could be an issue, offering the warrior a superior reach; however, before much else could happen, the Munin used the flat of the glaive to throw muddied water at Captain Anden. In return, Mitth'orn'eruod stepped to his left, avoiding the distraction, though it seemed he wasn't the Mandalorian's focus anyway.

Excellent balance and form, Mitth'orn'eruod thought to himself, as he continued to circle, watching the spear whistle through the air for an attack. Aggressive, direct, maximized for injury... it seems the Mandalorian is not playing. Very well.

Mitth'orn'eruod decided that an opportunity had presented itself. While the pair were mid-attack and mid-defense, the Chiss bounded forward. Legs bent, Mitth'orn'eruod sprung and began moving through the air toward the flank of the Mandalorian, one knee forward. The attack was intended to utilize both momentum and speed to catch a distracted opponent off guard, while using one of the hardest parts of a humanoid's body to inflict damage to the head region... and following the attack, the Chiss landed amid the water of the river, rolling in the same motion to come back to his feet, crouched in a defensive stance.

Arms out before him, knees bent, Mitth'orn'eruod narrowed his crimson eyes...

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[member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Ravik Munin"] | [member=Karisa]​

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Anden Fancelo​

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Lordd, Shâskot Skyhook Arena​

Objective: Follow biased objective.​

Enemy Combatants: [member="Thorne"] | [member="Ravik Munin"]​

Spectators: [member="Karisa"]​

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The Captain merely narrowed his eyes at the Mandalorian that replied with just utter silence. He retracted a foot back as the glaive was dug into the water. Holding his blaster up, ready to shoot. But before Anden can act any further, a splash of water was heading his way. To which the Captain switched offense with defense, blocking his eyes from the dirty water with his blaster arm. He was aware of what was to follow, open an opportunity to strike at your enemy and take it. That was the Mandalorian's strategy. Anden had little to block the blade with. So the Imperial went over to move back, narrowly avoiding the sideways slash of the glaive, as it scratched against his armor.

To the captain's misfortune, he lost his footing and fell back splashing into the shallow body of water. With quite the grunt, the captain went over to regain his footing just as the Admiral made his engagement on the Mandalorian. Eventually getting onto a knee. He took a moment to recover his sunken blaster and retrieve it. Once done, he went to expand his distance from the two combatants but not too far.

Hoping to regain most of his vision, Anden decided to keep his focus on the aggressive combatant, the Mandalorian. Perhaps deciding it best to make it easier for the two 'gentlemen' by working against the stalwart warrior. He raised his blaster up over to the general direction of the Mandalorian, lining his sights for a most devastating shot.