Sith-Imperial Tournament - Round Three

[Jacob Crawford]

Bastion​

Round 3​

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Round Two of the Imperial Tournament was over. As the arena was cleared out and everything reset, the occupants of the Emperor's Box deliberated on the results of the latest fights.

The winners and the next round match ups were announced an hour later. All of the combatants had been seen and treated by medics, but some wounds would require more time to heal. Some of them would go into their new matches sporting the marks of the previous.

For Round Two, each fight has been given a handicap/plague - determined by a dice roll.

[member="Orion Darkstar"] vs [member="Adrian Vandiir"] - PLAGUE! Small Sithspawn infest the sand beneath your feet. With a variety of minor poisons (writer’s choice, non-lethal) they will attempt to bite and strong both combatants throughout the round.
[member="Koda Fett"] vs [member="Sokar Azad"] - HANDICAP! Gravity weights have been applied to the wrists and ankles of both opponents. An internal inertial tumbler resets the amount of weight at random intervals.
[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] vs [member="Elani Zambrano"] - HANDICAP! Connected by a two meter long chain. While it *can* be cut through, it would take concerted effort, exposing the person to attack by the other.

The hours were slowly drawing on, the sun was descending to the horizon and night would soon fall upon Bastion. But for now the last six combatants would fight it out to see who will make it into the tournament's finale.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Elani Zambrano"]

The last fight had taken a toll. The hallucinogens injected in her from the previous fight had made her weary and filled hr mind with strange images. She was only able to continue fighting thanks to a cleansing ritual of Entiennette and Pythia; she had been suspended over a bed of hot coals while the two priestesses scoured her blood with the Force, burning away all the mind-altering influences that had affected her, and the residual toxins from the insects of the first fight. After a brief rest, the vahlacanthix was back on her feet and ready for more.

She had been lucky in her last fight, and it would only become more difficult from here on out.

"Mother Vahl, as I face my kin, give me the fire and the fury to remain victorious." "I fight for you."

Elani Zambrano - One of Joycelyn's elder half-sisters. This opponent was something else than what she had faced; the bouncing dancer, the great ape, now the sorceress. It was almost like one of the old tales where a champion of Vahl had to face archetypal opponents and defeat them with strengths, smarts, and faith in the Goddess. The thought brought a smile to Joycelyn's face as she lifted the fire over her head in the prayer as before the previous fights. It flickered out, the heat diving into her flesh. She would fight for the goddess, and to show that she was worthy to be the second Vornskr.

Oil was rubbed into her skin, ashes and chalk spread over her while her assistants chanted to the goddess.

When the doors opened, Joycelyn did not bring her pike. With its' three meter reach, it was too long for the challenge they faced. Instead, she had held, unsheathed, the long, darkened blade of her sithsword, Zaudraka. Joyce had also detached the head of her pike and carried the hilt as a backup, tucked into the inside of her

Zaudraka's blade flickered with blue flames that spread to her arms and appeared to bloom out of the sand where she stepped. Joycelyn walked up to the centre of the arena and allowed the chain to be attached to her person. Two meters, it seemed a little short to her, but that was the challenge of it.

The sword moved down from her shoulder and back in a tail-guard; both hands on the hilt, point facing away from Elani making it difficult to judge its distance.

 

[Lemon]

BASTION

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ARENA, CAPITAL

The Mandalorian emerged victorious once more, standing amidst the scorching the sands as the sweat on his muscular figure caused them to stick. To some they may prove irritating and reward an instant removal, but infamous individual's mind was elsewhere just now. Upon his return to the under-area of the arena, Fett's desire for glory took hold. It wasn't to say he felt none in the past, or present, but he was greedy- and he always wanted more. Whatever prize, credits, gear, or simple gratification. It was to be the Bounty Hunter's. Perhaps cause Carnifex to improve the payment on the already exorbitant contract.

Fett returned to the arena, kneeling in the sand as the day winded down. In his right hand remained the Electrostaff that had no failed him yet, and in his left was draining sand- flowing through the gaps between his fingers. Brown eyes were concealed behind that T-Visor, his face offering no visible expression. Proved better that way. Upon his forearms lie vambraces, and on his wrists and ankles were gravity weights. It was safe to say, that by now, Koda had become adjusted to the issues that presented themselves and even the sudden changes they enforced.

A moment passed and the hunter of man rose to his feet. The sand beneath his boot lay dormant whilst Fett remained still, holding the staff within both hands, assuming a combative stance. He waited for the horns to ring. If Amon, his leader, could be bested then so could he. At least that's what Koda opted to believe.

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[member="Sokar Azad"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"]

 

[AMCO]

Opponent: [member="Orion Darkstar"]
Gear: Two VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblades

In truth, he had not expected to emerge victorious from the last bout. Granted, it had been due to his opponent conceding, not being defeated outright, but it still pleased him immensely to have won the fight, even if it had cost him much more than the first bout. His physical injuries were already mostly healed, largely due to him having had the foresight to purchase a small supply of top-notch bacta for situations just like this one. That being said, he still felt a small surge of pain whenever he put too much weigh on his left leg, the weariness from having channelled a great deal of energy in his match against the Ren was still noticeable, despite having spent almost the entire interlude in deep meditation.

Now garbed in a spare attire identical to his damaged one, he made his towards the arena floor, soft leather soles threading purposefully against the stone floor. He had learned a few important lessons from his previous matches and had adjusted his loadout accordingly. He still wore no helmet and carried no shield, but he had added a pair of goggles, currently strapped to his belt. They would come in quite handy if he decided to use the floor against his opponent on a large scale, or his opponent tried something similar. It had worked quite well against the beast in the first round, after all.

As he strode across the sand floor, the Sithspawn beneath would be able to feel the vibrations, but none struck yet. Perhaps they were waiting for the vibrations brought on by battle, or a signal of some sort. Either way, Adrian remained oblivious to their presence. Despite being tainted by the dark side, like all Sithspawn, they were small and puny. Unnoticeable, even if it wasn't for the Dark Side energy being emitted by the plethora of Sith present.

Scanning the crowd for familiar faces as he did a quick circle around the arena floor, he ended up on the end of his cordon facing the Emperor's booth. After bowing deeply, and perhaps a bit too flamboyantly, he took his spot near the centre, waiting for his opponent to do the same. Taking the remaining time to prepare himself mentally, he began drawing forth his power once more. While he was not fighting a Master, his opponent had emerged victorious against a Knight last round. It was funny, in a way, that two Acolytes had come so far in the tournament only to face each other. Only one would have the honour of fighting in the finale though, and he intended to give his all to ensure that that was him.

 

[Progflaw99]

Subject: [member="Sokar Azad"] | Round III​

Affiliation: The Golden Company, Stellar Centurion​

Opponent(s): [member="Koda Fett"] | (Note: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"])​

Weapons: Phrik Laced Blades | Cortosis Gauntlets | AV-1 Scout Armor Helmet (Ram Aesthetic)​

​

Again the Centurion had progressed yet another rung of the ladder. Round three would prove to be difficult if nothing else. Exertion, fatigue, the heat of the sun now radiating upwards from the long baked sand of the arena. Each of these another obstacle to be traversed, each another opportunity to prove not only to those observing but to himself what he truly was capable of. Between matches he'd done what he could to mitigate the fatigue, only briefly stopping to swallow a few mouthfuls of nutrient paste. It would give him energy without the added weight of a meal - to have his circadian rhythm's abruptly interfere could be enough of a distraction to cost him. Life or limb. The stipulations of the arena had been that of caution, to kill was forbidden. Sokar knew however, things didn't always go according to the rules. As he had before the second round, Sokar had exchanged his weaponry once more. Versatility was the measure of a true warrior, the ability to adapt. It wasn't only true in the arena, but it became more and more pronounced as they day went on.

The man gave his wrist a shake, the gravity weight shifting on his arm. Soon they would be activated at random intervals, intervals that would undoubtedly cause him trouble should he be mid strike with a whip. Reluctantly he'd chosen to leave that weapon behind in favor of a more basic one. In technicality - two. This time he wore no shield, the idea of randomized weight introducing too variable an environment to rely upon a defense. Instead, Sokar had opted for a pair of shortened swords. Burnished bronze, the swiftly disappearing rays of the sun reflected vibrantly off the angle of the blades. Soon it would sneak below the horizon, the telltale signs of evening were already present, even a hint of a cool wind moving the air across his exposed flesh.

With a sharp twist of his own neck, Sokar adjusted the helm upon his crown. Though its systems were of simple design the helmet itself was anything but. The visage of a ram's skull, golden curling horns mounted upon his head - even the minds of warriors were often given pause at its sight. Today however, Sokar didn't see it as a took of intimidation, but one of utility. Even as the sun began its journey towards the horizon, the helmet would assist his vision throughout the birth of twilight. This, and it would protect his eyes from the sand. Though his helmet was worn in efforts of defense that was not what he sought this instant.

As the final round commenced, Sokar dove headlong into the arena. Foot after foot, sand kicking up as he pushed himself faster, weapons gripped firmly but not overtight. Breath. Heartbeat. Sound of feet upon the ground. A unique and subtle melody to the song of battle flowing through the Thrysian's blood. With each step and swing of an arm, each rise of foot and beat of the Centurian's heart he closed the distance just a little further. It had been only moments after the signal had been given that Sokar had recognized the domed helm of his foe. *A Mandalorian.* Beneath the shroud of the ram's skull Sokar sneered, blood boiling as adrenaline rushed through his body. In that moment, every fiber was attuned to the task at hand. He would have this Mandalorian's blood.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

[SIZE=11pt]War's Edge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]x1 Sith Lightsaber | x1 Valis Worship Lightsaber (White, No special features.)[/SIZE]

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Chains, Trapdoors, and Sithspawn. ​

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Orion couldn't evade the extravagant creativity of the Emperor's choices. All of which, in the most exceptional way, found him in the third round. Every obstacle that was set before him didn't come without scars. His entire right arm was wounded and healing in between rounds. Being forced to fight close quarters in the first round created a weakness in his strategy. The second round demanded his expertise in Juyo, which in turn regressed the additive gel and bandages on his burns. With enough time, medics fixed him back up. During the intricate process, Orion found solace in balancing his body with the force, hoping to restore his capabilities for his current match. ​

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He knew that the sithspawn lingered below the sand in the designated ring that he strode forward to. The penniless servant that stayed with him throughout his previous bouts warned him. The peasant told him tales of venomous creatures that could paralyze and impair his movements in seconds. While the length of time was minimal, it provided the crowd with a compelling aspect to what would have been, a normal fight. They would drool from their mouths once they realized the danger that lurked below. The hot sun continued to beat down on his black attire. Tattered holes stretched up and down his right sleeve, all the way up to a loose piece cloth at the top of his shoulder. On top of that, his delicate face showed youth. In common fashion, all that was visible were his lengthy fingers, his sleeves wrapped firmly around his palms. ​

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Stepping into the ring, he heard a crunch. Smothered underneath his boots, a tiny shriek slipped out from the sand. It seemed the weak servant was right. Dealing with tiny sithspawns and a new challenger could prove difficult. Sighing, he swatted away his lengthy, black hair. Some of the strands managed to tangle themselves around the hilt of his massive, two-handed sword neatly strapped to his back. Orion refused to use the hulking piece of equipment, at least, so far. It wasn't that he couldn't, in fact, he should have in multiple cases. But this wasn't for glory, all of it was for a brighter and better developed acolyte. ​

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Observing the man that had made it through all the trials and tribulations, such as his own, he smiled. The force, told him of a similar aura. Fresh and eager to fuel the Empire with a new rising star, Adrian stood. Orion respected the fact that another acolyte performed well enough to be in the later rounds. It was a rare thing to see. Both stood motionless as the crowd taunted and spit onto the sandy floor. Belligerent antics slipped from their disingenuous lips. They were blind, each of the acolytes were well trained. They felt each other through the force. One wrong move could spell the end for both of them. The skittering vermin that swam under the grainy sands teased them. ​

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If Orion was going to make it to the finale, he had to take the risk of attacking first. Well equipped at his waist, he considered his options. The blue eyed boy that stood before him couldn't be taken lightly, Orion's mind churned for the right opening attack. Keeping it simple he stepped forward, turning his back foot that caused an indent in the sand. He would use his speed and intelligence. He dashed forward, ducking low as he closed the distance in mere seconds. The darkside flowed behind him. Elegantly, a white beam of destruction hummed to life and aimed for Adrian's shoulder. The spacing was perfect, after last match he wouldn't be caught too close to his adversary. ​

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The numbers formulated in his mind. The ticking senses of his inner world heightened by the clairvoyant force. ​

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1...2...3...​

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The count was on. ​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

 

[AMCO]

Opponent: [member="Orion Darkstar"]
Gear: Two VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblades

Allowing his emotions to flow through him, he felt his aura swelling in intensity. His focus was primarily inward, but his eyes were directed squarely at his opponent. While his pose may have appeared relaxed, he was, in truth, preparing to react at a moment's notice. He had been caught off guard in the first round and had no intention of allowing that to happen again.

His opponent, a near human of some kind, was well armed. More so than he. The man carried two lightsabers, but that was the least concerning part. Adrian could feel the presence of the blade, a slight chill at the edge of his consciousness. He had no way of knowing its exact capabilities, but it was forged through the great art of Sith Alchemy, of that he was sure. He would need to keep his eye out for it especially, though he hoped to avoid a swordfight of any kind. He doubted he had much of a chance of emerging victorious if he was unable to prevent such an event, though the particular model of vibroblades he had chosen to bring with him did give him an additional trick up his sleeve.

He heard the taunts of the crowd, yet he cared little. What did it matter what the plebeians thought of him? It was not like they would dare say it to his face anyway; he may be a mere Acolyte, but he was still Sith. That being said, he had every intention of giving them a show worth watching, but that was hardly for their sake.

No. Today, in this moment, he and his opponent were the only ones who mattered. Soon, they would clash. Allowing the anticipation to wash over him, he further shored up his reserves, preparing to unless his full wrath upon his opponent the moment he made the first move. There were some who preferred to start slow, to test the limits of one's opponent and adapt. Adrian was not one of them. He had always followed one simple dogma: End the fight as quickly as possible, by any means necessary. It had served him well so far, and he saw no reason to change his tactics in that regard.

When his opponent did strike, it was fast. In a surge of movement, his blade was out and he was rushing forward. But Adrian had been preparing for this moment since he first set foot on the arena floor. Telekinetic energy surged from his hands... and into the ground in front of his opponent. At that, he would pull one of his blades from its sheath, leaping back as far as he could manage. He needed the distance if he was to have any hope of unleashing his full potential. Unless interrupted, lightning would dance across his free hand and he would follow up with a blast of lightning, this time aimed at his opponent.

 

[Lemon]

BASTION

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---

ARENA, CAPITAL

Something about that Ram helmet was off-putting. The Mandalorian was unable to quite put his finger on what it was exactly, however, he knew that he just didn't like it. His muscles tensed, gripping the weapon within his palms, sliding across the sands as the weights activated. It wasn't enough to weigh him down as it had in the previous bout, but it was an added number of kilos that kept him from moving as freely as Fett might of in the past.

The crowd cheered all the same.

As the Bounty Hunter approached Sokar he flicked his right foot upwards from the ground, dragging it along ever so briefly in an attempt to fling a heft portion of sand towards the man. Not to blind him, of course, for he had a helmet. Whether it covered his eyes or not, Koda didn't bother to test- yet he knew such an act may obscure his vision for a fraction of time, and perhaps that was all he needed.

Immediately after the initial act, the Mandalorian lunged forwards, lowering his body as he seemingly folded to a degree. The electrostaff within his palms thrust forwards in a stabbing motion, although only an electrocution was to come of the act, if successful.

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[member="Sokar Azad"]

 

[Elani Zambrano]

Finally. The main event.

Zambrano vs Zambrano. Sister vs sister.

Elani was waiting for this moment for quite some time. Finally, the chance remind everyone who the strongest was. She would not disappoint.

The cursed Zambrano walked into the arena, greeted by cheers from the massive crowd around her. She paid them no mind. She was solely focused on her opponent across from her. She walked closer and closer until she reached the center of the arena, just a mere 3 meters from her opponent. Elani's eyes did not divert from Joyce. The cold, pale violet eyes of Elani Zambrano were locked onto her.

"Hey there, Joycie."

Elani was already attempting to play mind games with her opponent. She anticipated it wouldn't work. Joyce was too hard headed for that.

Elani held her arm out for the arena attendees to attach the chain to her arm. 2 clanks of the metal as it was attached to both of the Zambranos and the attendees exited the arena before the brawl could ensue. Elani slowly bit into her lower lip as she felt the cold metal around her wrist, a sensation only her prisoners had the pleasure of feeling. Elani's grappling boa was wrapped tightly around her waist and both her talismans were safely on her person. She was ready.

"These chains just won't do I'm afraid."

In that instant, Elani disappeared for a brief moment then reappeared in the same spot, free of the chains grip. In truth, using one of her talismans, she transformed herself into a fruit fly then returned to her human form.

"Ah, much better. Shall we begin then?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Orion Darkstar]

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

[SIZE=11pt]War's Edge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]x1 Sith Lightsaber | x1 Valis Worship Lightsaber (White, No special features.)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]

[/SIZE]​

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[SIZE=10.5pt]

[/SIZE]​

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The opaque beam sliced accurately through the maw of thin air. Orion was quick on his feet and already anticipated a reaction from the stilled acolyte in front of him. The locking mechanisms of his brain sent an alarming rate of possible outcomes. In his effort to strike his opponents shoulder, a wall of sand erupted to the forefront of his sight. The subliminal messages of his mind forced him to retract his saber in mere seconds. With his other arm, he manipulated the wall of sand with a effortless blast of a force push. The tiny golden strings of sand spilled violently backwards towards his opponent as they retreated. ​

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Orion grinned, as he deactivated his saber and watched lightning dance forward toward him. The only issue for his opponent was the obstruction of sand, mere inches from him. The force push had sent it scattering in unpredictable ways. It almost surrounded Adrian. The sparks of the dark side came to life from his adversaries finger tips. The initial plan was to trap Orion, but the simple counter of basic telekinetic abilities changed the battlefield. The leverage Adrian could have had, turned on him. Adrian's own lightning would trap him in a world of mutilated silica, that in turn would form into glass. The blue trickle of branching tendrils formed into reality, warping the tiny grains into trees of foam like shells. The branching static fell shy of its target. ​

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Orion's eyes narrowed, twisting out of the way form straying bolts of blue that came close to his body. He was impressed that the blue lightning was strong enough to curate such large forms of fulgurite. The hollow collection of forming silica, gave Orion an opportunity. Within the foamy walls of the fulgurite rested sharp forms of tubular glass. These would be his weapon. at such a close distance, Adrian would have minimal time to react. Even so, Orion had to be mindful not to aim for the head. It could kill him, potentially striking the throat for a slow and painful death. Avoiding such an outcome, Orion bent his arm backwards. The sensation of healthy energy began to flow into his palm, once more. The count in his head grew rapid. Before he felt the force leave him, the clear waves of exploding energy snapped his arm forward. ​

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The waves slammed into the fulgurite trees, shattering the inner threat. A haze of broken glass exploded towards Adrian. A flurry of clear and ruthless sharp objects gunned for his chest. Then the next wave, splintering off into a crystallized hailstorm for his left arm. If they punctured the arm correctly, it would leave Adrian's arm inoperable for the rest of the round. A smile almost reached him, until a sudden rupture of pain surged through him. ​

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Stung by a small tiny critter from below, he swatted it off with his hand. Frantically searching for more potential threats, his eyes shifted upward. He watched the display of glass shimmer in the little sunlight that was left. The storm of shiny knives would have been difficult for anyone to counter. However, Orion had gotten free from many impossible situations, even against a Dark Jedi on Lujo. If Adrian was capable of such feats, perhaps he too could find solace in some way. ​

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The burn hit him fast, his sight growing slightly hazy. Falling to one knee he grew dizzy. Whatever stung him got him good. He began to breathe heavily. Trying to help himself back to his feet, his legs went numb. The world around him began to turn gooey, like a dripping substance tearing away reality. The calculating timer in his head, shut off. The only question poked him as he tried to regain control. ​

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What the hell is going on...​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Elani Zambrano"]

"Ellie dearest."

Her voice was thick with sarcasm as she kicked the mind-games right back at her older sister. One did not survive long around a court without at least some experience in dealing with snide banter. While Joycelyn was far from the strongest debater in their house, she was not easily shaken from her path, particularly when it came to arms.

When the chains were locked around them, from her ready position with Zaudraka, Joycelyn took half a step back and pulled her arms in close to her. She expected to pull Elani off her balance, but found the sorceress simply gone and the chain slack. As her heel hit the sand again and Elani reappeared, she flicked the chain out to the side and leaned her sword on her shoulder. The chain wrapped around her wrist and fell into her palm like a whip, giving her a second weapon.

"Oh le-"

Before the word completed, she took a big step forward. Her mouth opened wide and a cone of fire shot forth, threatening to engulf the fellow knight. Her flames were stronger than what one would expect a knight to summon -Even one with Joycelyn's particular affinity for burning things- as they were boosted by Zaudraka as one of the boons the sword gave to its wearer. She was aiming to catch her sister off-guard, if not burn her, then certainly make her move.

Joyce needed to keep her on the move, keep her mind too occupied to pull any of her weird stunts. And she needed to close the distance.

 

[AMCO]

Opponent: [member="Orion Darkstar"]
Gear: Two VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblades

Tendrils of vicious lightning leapt from his open palm, only to strike the sand that had been thrown back at him. The volatile energy, meant for his opponent, instead transformed the dull sand into a beautiful pattern of glass, almost like the branches of a tree reaching skyward. It was beautiful, in its own way. It would almost be a shame to destroy it.

This time, however, his opponent beat him to it. This time, it was he who faced a sudden volley of sand-turned-to-glass. Given only a moment to react, it was fortunate that he had quite the talent for this kind of force usage. Letting his sword fall from his hand, he drove both hands outward, shrouding himself in a barrier of shimmering energy. The shards smashed into his barrier, but he barely noticed. They might be sharp, but they carried little in the way of kinetic force compared to other means of attack. His lips turned upwards into a smug smirk, only to twist into a grimace as he felt something latch onto his leg.

Pain flooded his system. His blood burnt. His barrier winked out.

He grunted in pain as the last few chunks of glass passed through the now clear air in front of him and struck his left arm. Teeth clenched tightly, he felt the new wounds burn with devastating intensity alongside his halfway healed leg wound from the previous match, his vision blackening as he struggled to stay on his feet.

The pain. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. His wounds burned. His veins felt like rivers of molten lava. As his suffering overwhelmed his conscious mind, he took solace in his fury. Snarling in anger, he stumbled sideways falling to one knee and barely catching himself with his right arm. He was no longer entirely aware of his surroundings. Of what was going on. But he knew that he was in danger. He knew was that someone had done this to him and that they would pay dearly.

His pain and hatred erupted forth in a torrent of incandescent dark side energy, his head thrown backwards as he let loose a scream of pain-wracked fury. The immense exertion turning the pain into lightheadedness, at least momentarily, as his subconscious mind began the difficult process of purging the vile venom, tainted by the depravities of Sith Alchemy, from his veins. At least for the moment, he was all but incapacitated.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

War's Edgehttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/107635-wars-edge/
[SIZE=10.5pt]x1 Sith Lightsaber | x1 Valis Worship Lightsaber (White, No special features.)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]

[/SIZE]​

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The transformation of the world in front of him began to melt away. A fusion of colors dripped into one another, creating a swathe of endless colorful liquid. Finally, it touched him. The cold feeling of what seemed like water, danced along his pale hands. Trying to grab it, he failed. His lengthy fingers remained whole, refusing to become a part of the sorcery at hand. Perhaps if he was more careful, he wouldn't be trapped. More concerning than that, the melting stopped. Instead, everything began to morph into the very thing he feared, water. ​

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The force erupted through the arena. The rupturing scream of his opponent had forced waves of energy to penetrate his frightful world. Orion could feel the vibrations, almost knocking him free of the venom's trickery. His body remained stiff, incapable of moving as he knelled. The Force Scream pushed Orion's body backwards, sliding across the sand like a petrified statue. Still, Orion wasn't safe from the horrific fracture Adrian had caused. ​

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The walls of his false reality began to crack, more rushing waters flooded around him. Like glass the arena shattered, making his fear a reality. The crashing waves toppled over him and he let out his own agonizing scream. The terror he felt, suffocated him. Trying to breath, his lungs tensed, preventing the appropriate channels to allow him refuge. He was swallowed by a sea of fear. His bones turned to ice and his body, at least to the spectators began to roll around in the sand. Thrashing and kicking like a six year old throwing a tantrum. The crowd laughed and mocked him, but it all fell on deaf ears.​

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Dragged into the undertow, Orion gasped for air. His head breaking through to the top of the crashing waves. His lungs began to fill, his mind racing for the correct way to break free. He couldn't just escape, but then it struck him. ​

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Fear.​

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Orion should have known by now. Fear was a powerful tool, when used by those with the gift of the darkside. He wasn't only a practitioner of fear, but anger as well. Such emotions could cause unpredictable outcomes. Just as Adrian was displaying to the crowd, the anger took over and forced a empowered scream. It broke sound barriers as a invisible shock wave of high pitched frequencies began to fill the arena. Orion couldn't hear it, instead he dealt with his own demons. ​

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He felt the sinking feeling of his heart, the doubt taking him over. Orion called on it, embraced the engulfing waters with the help of the force. He calmed, his body became still, while lying in the sand. The blanket of the darkside wrapped around him, the connection of the force surged through him. The waves that rocked him dissipated, the world slowly turning back to normal. Orion wasn't entirely sure if the force saved him or if the venom finally wore off. He could feel his legs again, his arms and when his sight officially re-corrected itself, he was greeted by a beautiful sky of purple and orange. ​

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It all came back to him as the crowds cheers and boos continued. The rupturing scream of his opponent flourished across the sandy floor and into him. He cupped his ears in reaction to it. With haste, Orion reached his feet and wiped sand free from his black garments. He watched as the acolyte across the arena exerted immense waves of darkside energy. It was almost tangible. ​

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Incredible...​

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Orion only ever witnessed such power one other time. It still haunted him till this day. It was clear they both were fighting off the effects of the nasty critters that still hid in the sand. Regaining his composure, he removed his other hand from his ear. He noticed that by some miracle, his lightsaber hilt was held tightly in his left hand. If he went to strike the young Sith, he could end the match. So long as Adrian remained locked in the agonizing pits of his own inner battle.​

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Bending his legs upward, Orion heard a slight crack. They were operable, that was a good sign. Still, he felt tiny spasms in his ankle. Ignoring it, he pressed forward. Careful of the critters below, he charged. The silver hilt of his saber remained deactivated, closing the distance to finally put an end to the puncturing screams of a suffering man. Orion took comfort in hearing it again; the inner mechanism of his mind. ​

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Left...One, Right...Two, Extend...Four, One, Two, Three, Four!​

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[member="Ao Xian"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] ​

 

[Progflaw99]

Subject: [member="Sokar Azad"] | Round III​

Affiliation: The Golden Company, Stellar Centurion​

Opponent(s): [member="Koda Fett"] | (Note: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"])​

Weapons: Phrik Laced Blades | Cortosis Gauntlets | AV-1 Scout Armor Helmet (Ram Aesthetic)​

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As the two closed distance Sokar's foe made a flicking movement with his foot - moments later the warrior could feel the sting of sand against his flesh. Left foot in front of right, all thoughts of the gravity weights were pushed aside as the hunter sought blood. It was that miscalculation which cost him - how badly would depend on if the weights of his foe and his own were synchronized in their random addition of weight. Left foot in midair, Sokar felt the weight activate, cutting his stride short. Even as he struggled to retain his balance a flicker of movement almost disguised by the sudden burst of sand triggered a near reflexive response. Twisting his body Sokar brought the blade in his left hand up rapidly in an aim to deflect the blade from his left side. Simultaneously with the motion of his body, the blade in his right hand sought to find purchase against his enemy's side.

Sokar had no illusions as to his enemy's resourcefulness but even he would have had difficulty defending against a strike such as his. It was the benefit of having two independent blades rather than a single length of spear or pike. As his body moved to the side, he grit his teeth in anticipation. At the sudden release of weight from his left foot, he found it now transferred to his right - the right foot upon which he had meant to land at the conclusion of his strike. Off balance and natural motion interrupted, he was thrown towards the sand. A plume of dust burst upwards from the arena as body met the ground. Even as he rolled with momentum, Sokar could feel the gravity weights change their levels once again, this time his arms feeling sluggish with each roll. Soon enough he'd stop - hopefully his enemy hadn't had time to pursue. It would mean he'd be hard pressed to get to his feet again.

 

[Lemon]

BASTION

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ARENA, CAPITAL

The heat of the setting sun continued to bear down upon the two, whilst less intensive it was a present all the same. Perhaps it made Bastion's horizon seemingly 'pretty', to an extent. Koda couldn't tell anyone, his attention wasn't there- instead on the man ahead of him. An unyielding attention to detail.

​Electricity sparked, chittered, and zapped aloud with violence as the Phrik Blade made contact in defence. Both of the Mandalorian's hands were firmly planted on the long bar of the Electrostaff, pushing forwards in an attempt to gain the upper-hand, force his opponent from comfortable footing and perhaps slide through the sand. Yet, before such an act could be completed, the Bounty Hunter's flesh began to sting with an intense pain and the teeth behind his helmet gritted, accompanied by a grunt. Blood oozing from a wound, dripping onto the sand, only to have Azod fall, creating a crater with his presence.

The Mandalorian too fell to the sand once the weight he pushed against seemingly vanished, twisting to land on his back in what short time he had. The Electrostaff finding itself in an awkward position, pressing onto the right gravitation weight on his leg. A mere shock later and the weight it proposed disappeared, unhinging and falling from his limb. Resourcefulness in the form of luck.

Scrambling to his feet, however, he readied himself once more. Perhaps one weight was gone, but even the slightest disadvantage could end a bout. It was with slower movements that Fett waded through the sand, attempting meet the Sun Guard at half-way, preparing to be on the defensive side this time.

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[member="Sokar Azad"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"]

 

[AMCO]

Opponent: [member="Orion Darkstar"]
Gear: Two VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblades

As destructive energy rolled off him in waves, the pain faded from his mind. Isolated from the world around him, like a single speck of light in an infinite void, his conscious mind reemerged. He was dimly aware of the pain wracking his body. Dimly aware that he was still screaming in pain and anger, and yet it seemed so distant. Like another person's life. Another person's pain.

It was comforting. Like a blanket of nothingness covering up his woes. What had he been doing? How had he been brought to this state? As he struggled to remember, flashes of memory appeared before him. The brilliant lights of a vast city. The sandy floor of an arena. The ivory blade of his opponent. His opponent. He had been fighting. Or was he fighting? It all floated together as his groggy mind tried to regain control. Perhaps it didn't matter if he rested for a while. Just a little while. Just a little longer...

Danger.

Even in his current state, his other senses were still functional. None faced the trials of the Sith and lived who did not know when to heed their instincts.

As he was ripped from his blissful state, a wave of sensations flooded back into his mind, causing him to stumble backwards, falling on his back in the sand. His veins, his wounds, still burned. Yet the pain was slowly passing. The energy flooding his system purging the poison from his veins. He felt powerful. Like the world was his to take, And yet he knew that it was all an illusion. The Dark Side always made you feel that way, right before it all came crashing down. His reserves would not last much longer. He would need to act quickly.

As his eyes snapped open, his gaze fell on the black-clad form surging towards him, silvery hilt in hand.

Muttering groggily under his breath in the tongue of the Sith, he twisted his right hand towards the figure, unnerving purple light briefly coalescing around it, then dissipating. "Ztadase!" Damn it indeed. He simply wasn't able to muster the concentration required to call upon the raw power of sorcery just yet. Snarling in frustrating, he twisted his hand from right to left instead, grabbing hold of the sword he had dropped earlier instead.

Sending it spinning on its axis towards his opponent he activated it in mid-air, the grim humming of the vibroblade barely audible over the cacophony of the crowd. He doubted the attack would incapacitate his opponent, but it didn't need to. He needed time, precious time. The time to bring his mind back into order. To regain full control of his body. To unleash the vicious entropy of his sorcery upon his opponent.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

[member="Adrian Vandiir"]

War's Edgehttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/107635-wars-edge/
[SIZE=10.5pt]x1 Sith Lightsaber | x1 Valis Worship Lightsaber (White, No special features.)[/SIZE]

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Orion's form shifted at the last minute, his right foot pointing directly at Adrian. The silver hilt swung forward, what should have been an activating beam of white light, was hampered. A small tiny pest found glory in his own assault. It scampered upward along his arm before lifting, its shell like body stiffened in a halt before puncturing the skin. The rush of pain shuttered through his veins. Tiny forming pockets of heat trickled through his left arm, quickly reaching his leg. The progress he had made to attack, taken from him by the clutches of the very thing he called on; the darkside. ​

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It wasn't pain that frustrated Orion, no, it was the sweet and simple process of a new pool of venom coursing through him. His muscle began to contract, turning to stone and incapable of movement. The streak of metal glistened through the air, barreling toward him like a spike of infinite regret. His heart was swallowed deeper into the pits of his stomach. The blade was aiming straight for his throat. His only defense was to turn the right side of his body into it. Like water, Orion elegantly forced his right foot to crank inward. It twisted his body forward as the blade ripped through his right shoulder. ​

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As the blade tore through his skin, a bright green seeped from the large chunk in his shoulder. Thankfully, the blade barely missed the joint, which could have forced the blade clean through him. Letting out a agonizing grunt, he clenched his teeth. His emerald eyes surveyed his opponent. The burning rush that came from his leaking wound forced him to clamp tighter with his teeth. It seemed Adrian had gotten the best of him. Shedding blood for the emperor impressed the on lookers, roars exploding throughout the prestigious arena. ​

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Orion still couldn't moved his left extremities. His left hand twitched, the hilt almost breaking free from the cold grip of his own fingers. It was no use, time was no longer on his side. He couldn't break free from such a curse in time to dodge whatever came next. All he knew, was disrupting the acolyte in front of him was the only way to find reprieve. The count in his engineered mind slowed. ​

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Pull, Throw, Counter...​

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The discomfort of his wound was like a searing river of hot lava. While it continued to pour from his indented laceration, he had no choice but to utilize the only arm that worked. The swelling would quicken, but there was no other way. Orion bent the force to his will, like a true sith. He asked for no permission, the demand allowed the silver hilt in his frozen left hand to snap free. Before reaching his right hand he brought it to a halt with a wave of his right arm. His right finger lifted as his wrist gyrated into a circular motion. The silver hilt rapidly began to spin, suspended in the air. ​

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Without a moments notice, Orion launched the hilt at his opponent. The helicopter motion became harder and hard to follow, until at the last second, Orion hastily created a balled fist. The lightsaber hilt came to life, the blindingly fast beam streamlined for Adrain's left arm. The devastating motion would be difficult to follow. If it came in contact with the desired area, Adrian would be dealing with a severe wound. Of course, returning the favor would be the best upside. However, Orion simply needed to let the venom work through his system.​

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The situation was grim, plus the searing sting from the vibroblades caused green droplets to continue their descent into the sand below. Although calm, Orion wasn't entirely sure how much more he could take. ​

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Kark...​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Subject: [member="Sokar Azad"] | Round III​

Affiliation: The Golden Company, Stellar Centurion​

Opponent(s): [member="Koda Fett"] | (Note: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ao Xian"])​

Weapons: Phrik Laced Blades | Cortosis Gauntlets | AV-1 Scout Armor Helmet (Ram Aesthetic)​

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Already his Mandalorian foe pursued, the glimmer of the setting sun against the now defective shackle in the sand. His enemy seemed to have freed himself, at least partially from their handicap. Whether such things were against the rules or would be looked upon as a mere improvization Sokar cared not to contemplate. Nor did he have the luxury of doing so. Clawing back to his own feet the Centurion bladed his body towards the approach of his attacker, weapons raised at the ready.

He could feel the heat of the sand, the energy of the crowd, and as his eyes fell upon the torso of the man before him an obscured smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. First blood had been drawn, but that was merely the beginning of the grand entertainment wasn't it? Sokar could practically feel the lust for blood emanating from the crowd - perhaps their desire could be sated - sated at the cost of not only his opponent's blood but also his own. With a wry grin, Sokar swung first with his strong hand, the knife-like aperture of his weapon slashing widely above - telegraphing his movement. As with anything, it was a calculated risk. Raising the blade up so high would expose his right side, albeit briefly, to his enemy.

Just as in a game of dejarik, one mustn't focus on the sole move ahead, but many moves ahead. So also was Sokar thinking in terms of the fight overall, despite appearances. As the blade came swinging down towards his enemy, the gravity binder activated, chance or fate providing an incredible addition of force behind his swing.

 

[Lemon]

BASTION

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ARENA, CAPITAL

Abilities in which he could comprehend forced a certain caution upon Fett. Anticipation of what may come next consumed his mind, but as did his following move. He certainly intended on placing himself on the defense, proposing a hardy counter to his foe. The lack of any weight bearing down on his right ankle was freeing, but additionally jarring- the difference between each limb was something that needed to be overcome.

A determined expression sprawled across Fett's face as the Thrysian made his approach, watching as an arm raise itself high above for a downward slash or stab. The Mandalorian shifted his stance, lowering his body as his booted right foot glided across the sand. With his left hand further along the Electrostaff than the other, he thrust it forwards, directing it at the right pectoral of Sokar. A calculated attack, if there ever was one. Knowing full well of the other weapon's presence, and Fett's ability to quickly shift from his current position and deflect if it so came, or perhaps press on with an attack if the staggering effect from the electrocution struck true.

There was too much at stake for a man who adored his own glory, credits and more.

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[member="Sokar Azad"]

 

[Elani Zambrano]

The flames, obviously, came as a surprise to Elani. She thought she was fighting against one of the more prestigious of her little siblings, not a dragon. Then again, same thing really. Large creatures both Joyce and dragons were. And just like those dragons, Elani would hunt Joyce down until the final blow was struck.

Elani let the flames come forth, doing nothing to stop them. Instead, she allowed her shield talisman to protect her from the flames. As they came at Elani, the flames were absorbed by the talisman, storing the energy from them inside the talisman for later. As the flames came into the talisman, Elani could hear the voice of Durrei inside of her, advising her and lending her his strength. It would be enough to, if not defeat Joyce, definitely hurt her.

From beneath Elani's tattered robes, several tendrils appearing to be made from vile shadows came forth and flew towards Joyce at incredible speeds, aiming to wrap her large form in a dark side web and immobilizing her for Elani to do with her as she pleased.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​