Sith-Imperial Tournament - Round Three

[AMCO]

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

As Orion surged towards him, Adrian pushed the blade to even greater speeds, yet it didn't look like he would make it. As the hilt swung towards him, he prepared to throw all his energy into a last-ditch effort at repelling it, only to have his opponent freeze up. Then he saw it. A tiny creature, yet its presence was in no way insignificant.

As the spinning vibroblade soared towards his opponent, he grinned slightly, allowing it to continue on its course, but preparing to divert it at the last moment should his opponent be physically unable to block it. Of course, that didn't mean he was above getting his first, second, and third blood while his opponent was out of commision, but he hardly wanted to kill the man.

Unfortunately, it would seem his opponent still had some fight in him. He managed to duck partly out of the way, though the blade cut deep before flying off and landing a short distance away. First blood. Well, for him anyway. With his returning senses was also the returning realisation that his left arm was bleeding profusely. He would have to get that looked at, but, for now, it was time to finish this. As he prepared to test just how much electricity his opponent could take before passing out, he momentarily dropped his guard.

When his opponent started spinning his lightsaber in the air in front of him, he took a moment too long to react. When it soared towards him, he reacted. But it was fast. Too fast. With a thrust of his right hand and an exertion of raw will, he slowed it down. But it still struck. RIpping into his arm near where the glass had struck, but deeper. His flesh burned and the chunks of glass stuck inside melted. Snarling in pain, he poured the pain into a final exertion of raw force, stopping the weapon before it cut deeper, then launching it away from him in anger. As it landed in the sand a distance away, scorching away at the floor, he fell back down on his back, fatigue almost overwhelming him. And yet he was not ready to give up. Not yet.

As he closed his eyes briefly, his mind wandered back to the time he and dozen other Acolytes had been sent to survive in a deserted part of Korriban for a month. No supplies. Not even water. He had survived by bending some native Tuk'ata to his will... and turning them against his enemies.

Even now, he felt the Sithspawn crawling up towards him. They would be upon him soon before he had the time to get up... unless. Unless he turned bane into boon. Drawing on as much power as he could muster, he focused on the wicked little things and poured it all into that connection. Sithspawn were hardly easy for him to control... but they could be directed. Grinding his teeth in concentration, he tugged at the edges of their primitive minds, feeding them images of their next morsel. As they diverted course at the last moment, he sighed in relief.

Hurrying to his feet and and scrambling backwards, barely keeping himself from wincing every time he put too much weight on his left leg, he formed his hand into a clawing gesture, drawing at the molten glass in his left arm. He only hoped the Sithspawn would do enough damage to his opponent to allow him to draw it all out; he was hardly a doctor, but even he realized that unless he removed it, and quickly, it might cause him permanent harm.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Elani Zambrano"]

The flames simply disappeared into some sort of talisman. Was that allowed? At the moment, it did not matter. She could not halt the fight to cry wolf; she had to keep moving, keep fighting. Even in a no-holds-barred would she allow herself to walk quietly into the night.

Shadow tendrils shot out of Elani's robes, lashing out towards Joycelyn. While Joyce could not tell what kind of sorcery it was, black appendages usually spelled some sort of terrible doom to whomever they touched. So that became the name of the game: Don't let them touch you. In that lieu there was one talent Joycelyn had long cultivated as an athlete, one she had a genetic affinity for thanks to her mixed heritage; she was quite flexible.

One always thought the big one would be slow and hulking, but with Joycelyn's long, athletic legs and natural flexibility, she was able to step back, jump to the side, and even handspring out of the way of the tendrils. Without armour, she was light and fast. While this spared her, it brought her unfortunately at a distance from Elani, the opposite of what she had wanted. She needed to cover the distance again. Or.

Her left hand gripped the shoulder of the jacket and a quick draw of her blade cut the bonds that lashed it to her shoulders. With a yank, she tore it off, ripping one sleeve right off and turning the other inside out. Her hand thrust forward, sending the jacket splayed towards Elani's with the goal of wrapping her head in it or at least draw her attention away from Joycelyn's next manoeuvre.

 

[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]

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Orion felt the green ichor run from his upper gash, down to his palm. The warm liquid slid off his pale skin, creating small dots of blood in the sand. The wound was deeper than he expected and the constant throbbing sensation caused tiny episodes of sharp pain through his arm. Although, he knew the arm was in bad shape, he refused to obey the wound and forced his mind to focus on the fight. ​

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Intently he watched, the spinning white beam struck true. It would allow him time to reevaluate the situation at a greater pace. Still, Orion observed, the cascading effect of his opponent hitting the ground caused a tiny smile to reach his face. He knew the left arm was out of commission after the contact was made. Falling down, put him in an even better position. Tearing the cloth from his other arm, he quickly wrapped his wound. Then he bit down onto one end and pulled. As the makeshift bandage tightened around the wound he furiously shook, biting harder into the dry linen. Saliva escaped between the crevices of his perfect teeth, spitting widely across the arena floor. A few loud painful grunts came after, until, he managed to free the cloth from his mouth and inspected the area. ​

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It wasn't the most sanitary of options, but for now, it would do. Of course, it wouldn't stop all the bleeding, it was to prevent anything from making far worse contact with the initial gash in his shoulder. He could still feel the warmth of the slow trickle along the edge of his forearm. The fight needed to end way sooner than he expected, if it came to it, he could always cauterize the wound with his other saber, just to stay in it. Orion wouldn't jump to conclusion, no, he would utilize what he had at his disposal. ​

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Then a twinge in his fingers came, his left side slowly loosening as he remained motionless. Watching the opponents reaction, he carefully spotted something unique. The sithspawn below were surely heading to feast on him, but at the very last moment changed course. The four little bumps in the sand rushed around in a snake like pattern before splitting off and rushing towards Orion. ​

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So that's what you deal me...​

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Orion tried to move his left leg, instead, his left arm was operable. Patiently he waited, anticipating the attack from the savage critters below. He buried his boot into the sand. His posture changing as he managed to bend both knees and spread them slightly wider. The wounded arm, remained freely at his side. The shutter in the force snapped, breaking and influencing the creation of something purely fascinating. The chilling cold formation grew in length, forming from his own blood. The green hue made it difficult to tell that it was a sharp ice made knife. The tip pointed downward as the first of four manipulated sithspawn, unburrowed and attacked. With the grace of the force, the first spike flew through the air, impaling the scorpion like creation with a loud shriek. Another crystallized green knife of ice formed just in time for him to turn on his right foot and extend his arm forward. The newly shaped weapon sliced through the air, the very sharp tip protruding into the shell from the side. It knocked it away. With a moment of reprieved he tightened his grip around the icy base. ​

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The warmth of his fingers caused it to drip water into his hand. It would only make the throwing easier, but harder to hold onto. He grinned, the next two came. With ease he let loose the spire of death, a stalagmite formed from a small pool of blood on the sand and split the jumping creature in half. With his last effort he threw the spike from his hand and blue blood filled the air as he successfully defended the attack. His body spoke to him in full capacity now. His left side was free from the restrictions of earlier. ​

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Without wasting time he called on it again. The force creating another sharp, icy tool of destruction in his hand. Viciously he threw it, aiming for the leg of Adrian. Then another and right after that another. Each soaring through the air to puncture the thighs of his adversary. The exertion may have dampened the structure of the ice sculpting. Either way, he hoped it would prevent Adrian from doing anything dangerous. ​

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Orion jumped backwards, spacing himself for the right distance. Instead of exerting more energy, he waited to deal with what came next. The fight was exceptional, but the length of it was starting to weigh in. Reserving as much energy as he could, might prove invaluable. He spoke to himself, in a low whisper. ​

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"Breathe..."​

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

 

[AMCO]

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

Channelling the constant pain from his aching wounds into his efforts, he began the difficult process of drawing the still-molten glass from his cauterized wounds, ripping it up again in the effort. It hurt. He bled. Yet, it was necessary. The glass had to go, or he would end up seriously regretting it later. At least his opponent was distracted by the Sithspawn, though he seemed to be handling them well enough, despite still lacking in the mobility department due to recently being bitten.

With a grunt of exertion, he pulled the last glass from his limp arm, wincing as the molten glass cauterized the wound once more on the way out. Oh well, at least he wouldn't be bleeding all over the place anymore. Orb of molten glass still hovering in the air, he recovered quickly enough, and just in time at that. His opponent had just finished off the last of the Sithspawn... and was launching the next spike at him.

Thinking quickly, he drove the ball of superheated glass floating before him into the approaching projectile, causing hissing steam to erupt from it and sending it off course so as to miss him. He was not out of danger yet. As two more projectiles were launched towards him in short order, he immediately realized that he wouldn't be able to divert them both. And yet he didn't have to. With a twirl of his only remaining functional hand, he slowed the first projectile down, then diverted it sideways to impact with the second stalagmite-like chunk. As shards of ice splattered the ground in front of him, he felt a slight surge of delight, but knew that he didn't have the time for self-satisfaction. The strain was wearing heavy on him. He would not last long.

He could have conserved his energy, of course, but endurance had never been his speciality. No, that way lay only defeat. However, there was still a window of opportunity. His opponent had foolishly given him the space he had strived towards creating for the entire duration of the round. The time he had done everything at his disposal to amass. It was now or never. It was time to give his all in one final push, for victory or defeat.

Closing his eyes briefly, he felt a profound sense of calm, like the quiet before the storm. As they slowly opened, a tinge of orange could be seen in his normally blue eyes. Slowly raising his hand, incandescent purple energy began to form around it, this time growing stronger rather than dissipating. His passion roared. His will was iron. Hand snapping forward in a final exertion of will, he shouted an incantation in the tongue of the Sith.

"Tave raka buti jena'tes, tave valia buti laisvas!"

At the end of the last syllable, the purple energy would surge forward... twice. Delayed by a second or two, no more, no less. The first was a mere illusion. A trick he had been working on. A final deception, to catch his opponent off guard. As the second bolt left his hand, this one anything but illusory, he stumbled backwards, barely keeping on his feet. He was spent. Completely, and utterly, spent. If that didn't take down his opponent... then nothing he still had the energy to muster would.

 

[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]

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[SIZE=10.5pt]

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Orion felt the leaking wound even more now. The sweet succulence of his own bodily fluids roasted in the remaining sun. The mind continued to churn, locking and clicking into place. Although his internal thought processes were fine, his body was worn. Exerted and stable enough to stand, the reserves of his tank would only allow so much potential. The deck he played seemed to only have one card left. He couldn't tell whether or not Adrian was in the same boat, all Orion knew, was the blood loss was becoming a dangerous factor. ​

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He could feel his chest tighten, his deep breaths calming him. The strain sent tingles through his body, which began to translate to his sight. The draining feeling of his own life source began to make him woozy. What was once a clear picture of an opponent, became a hazy motion of hand signals and a loud incantation. Apparently, Adrian had been saving the big one. Orion could feel the tangible forces of the darkside flowing into his adversary. The tiny stream of raw energy formed into a ring of dark and violet symbols. Pressurized by the incantation that left Adrian's mouth, thick clap embraced the arena. It silenced the crowd around them, maybe even the emperor's box. ​

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Orion's eyes fought to regain their true sight, but to no avail. The thick splinter of traveling energy fired toward him like a bullet. Reaching for his saber would take too long and dodging was out of the question. For the first time, Orion could feel the sting of the darkside as it approached. It wrapped around him as he braced for impact with a small forming clear barrier, but he was too slow. The purple misty ball of dark energy slipped through before it protected him. Latching to his conscious mind, he watched the surroundings change into a small tunnel. ​

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Dim lights sparked overhead, vehicles charred from fires of a war, and bodies spread throughout the tunnel like a graveyard. Stepping over each body bag, out of respect for the dead, he spotted a slightly unzipped bag in the distance. It struck him oddly enough, that he slowly made his way towards it. A loud screeching started to spread through the tunnel, but what began to take effect was a clashing of two worlds. The parts of the tunnel he had traversed began to fade away, chasing after him. Orion's eyes widen and he felt rushed. Ignoring the body bags below, he began to sprint, careful not to trip. Anything to not be caught in the disintegrating phenomenon that came after him. Confused and feeling an attachment to the very last body bag, he bent down. Turning his head he looked back at the world tearing itself apart. The urge to see what was in the body bag forced him to crank his neck forward, staring down at his own dead body it snapped upward. The zombie version of himself went for the throat and before it sank into his neck, the terror faded away like dust. ​

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The fake world was dismantled, the arena coming back into perspective. A thick nasty blast rocked him free, his barrier splitting and cracking against the grain. In all his effort, the illusion prevented him to concentrate and the shield broke. The seeping energy of the darkside burned the core of his hands and before all was said and done, Orion was violently jerked off his feet and backwards. The gurgle of his thickened throat spat blood as he soared through the air. When his body made contact with the sand, it swallowed his shoulder and black hair. The intense feeling from Adrian's sorcery inflicted a substantial amount of damage. The burning rivers of the dakrside energy spread across his body. ​

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Orion laid motionless and bleeding, only to open his eyes to the vast and endless sky of Bastion's dusk horizon. There was beauty in it, as the stars began to take their rightful place. They twinkled, just before the grasping clutches of the night took hold. Orion couldn't tell whether or not he won or lost. All that mattered, at least for right now, was even with the pain, a bloodied smile stretched across his face. ​

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It was a gorgeous and endless sight, until...​

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Orion closed his eyes. ​

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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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Even a warrior as practiced as Sokar was not infallible. He had risked his side, the cost of making a feint but what his enemy had done was not what he had assumed. Sunlight glinted off the surface of the electrostaff, the Centurion's body in motion towards his foe. There would be no stopping his momentum. The man grit his teeth as he prepared for the contact, blade moving swiftly to strike at the haft of the staff - even so, it would do little more than slide along its length. His opponent had hands however, hands that were yet vulnerable if he could maintain the power of his strike.

Jarring force impacted Sokar's right shoulder, the force of the blade coming into contact shifting the aim of his foe but electricity cackled all the same. Muscular tremors tensed his jaw, a near instantaneous headache threatening to overwhelm him. Already he could feel the fatigue pass through his arm and yet the blade remained tightly gripped, seizing muscles in his hand turning knuckles white. Teeth grinding as the electrical current wreaked its havoc on his right arm, his left now stood poised for action. Sokar had let the end of his enemy's electrostaff pass over his shoulder and with his momentum now found himself inside his opponent's guard. Nothing was ever sure in life but his position created a strained grimace as he forced his body to obey.

Shooting out his second blade, he aimed for his opponent's chest with the tip. As if he were above, watching himself, Sokar saw his arm extend. Blade was poised for a perfect strike, and then the unexpected happened. With a gentle blink, the gravity weight on his left wrist activated, his perfect strike suddenly veering off course. He knew he was going to hit the ground, hard. Already he could feel his muscles straining at the effects of the electrostaff. The only thing he didn't know was if and where his strike might make purchase - if at all.

 

[AMCO]

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

Moments ago, Adrian had felt the raw might of the dark side flowing through him. Shimmering energy had leapt from his hand. He had felt powerful. Truly powerful.

But now? Now he felt the strain. The weight of the exhaustion he had been desperately evading finally catching up to him. As he stumbled backwards, he barely saw the surge of light as his beam met the other Acolyte's barrier. That being said, there was no way, even in his current state, that he wouldn't notice it breaking.

As he swayed, he felt the gush of air rolling outwards, heard the sound of his opponent hitting the sand. Hard. There was a finality to it. Managing to regain his balance, if barely, he peered over at his opponent. The body was still. He could see the damage and for a moment he worried that he might have accidentally killed him, but no. He could still feel the aura, even if it was faint. Heh. Then again, so was his, no doubt.

Body shaking slightly from the exhaustion, his awareness of his surroundings gradually returned and, alongside it, the searing pain in his left arm. The crowd was cheering... but he didn't know how to feel about that. Most of them were ignorant of power, true power. Did they even know how much energy and effort they had both expended, or were they simply expressing their fondness for the flashy spells, like the simple-minded fools they were? Were they impressed by his power, his finesse, or by incidental showmanship? He supposed he would never know, but it didn't really matter. What mattered was the worthy amongst the audience. His peers... and superiors.

But, for now, that was the least of his concerns. Barely able to keep on his feet, all he could manage was a deep nod in the direction of the Emperor, before a pair of medics began escorting him off the arena floor, a larger group heading towards his opponent. Left arm hanging limply, they guided him through the same threshold by which he had entered. He was injured, dizzy, and on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, but he still felt jubilant. Victory... was his.