Public The Hallow Colosseum [PM to join]

[Vher Nall]

The Hallow Colosseum, Affavan.

Voxyn spawn, the force hunter, Shadow Killer, all names Vher Nall had Earned at one point or another. Now he was simply the beast of Halcorr, Arius Halcorr's former prized possession. Dragged through the grime and muck from one arena to another and paraded for all the worth he had left. This day marked his glorious return to the Hallow Colosseum where he'd compete in the King's Gauntlet once more. The games lost their shine the eighth time around.

The Dashade was lionized after winning his very first gauntlet, celebrated as royalty following his second and idolized as something godlike upon his third victory in a row. For three years he was untouchable, a gladiator treated as the divine. The grudges he carried from his past life hadn't been forgotten, but perhaps their edges dulled against the resolve he found in the arena. Time though, time was cruel mistress. She loves all, she loves none. For three years Vher Nall was her chosen partner, on the fourth she became but a fleeting memory. She moved on and never looked back, marrying herself to Xercuv, the Gen'Dai monstrosity of house Vorst. A tower built from bricks we call strength and slathered in the mortar that is power, a living breathing death sentence, and one that Vher Nall survived by the supposed graces of his master, Arius.

The Dominus of house Halcorr just wouldn't let the Dashade die no matter how much degradation he suffered at the hands of Xercuv. Four years. Four years in a row Vher Nall would face Xercuv in the grand finale of the gauntlet and fail. Perhaps Arius felt some kinship with his former champion; the one who brought an end to Vorst's monopoly over the King's Gauntlet, but Bartin Vorst had long since recovered his title as the victor. Although, rumors did begin to circulate, word had it that Xercuv had somehow left house Vorst. Unsurprising to Vher Nall - how did one deny destruction incarnate? The Gen'dai enjoyed the arena and likely remained of his own volition. With him apparently gone, Vher Nall would either reclaim an unearned title, or hopefully, finally be allowed to die.

"It's time. Gladiators, make yourselves ready. Seize victory for our lord Arius, or in failing that, a glorious death in the name of our lord Dominus.” Lanista Brax, a Weequay far larger and more muscular than most of his kind, shouted with vigor. In one hand he held a vibroblade. In the other an emitter, connected to a singular lens, he could use to disable any combatant with the click of a button. Vher Nall's own shock collar had to be rebuilt and strengthened many times over when he first arrived on Affavan. Finally they built one he couldn't shatter so easily.

Vher Nall stood from the scentwood bench and approached the weapon rack across the dusty hall. What was left of his durasteel armor was grungy and only loosely fit, having been neglected proper maintenance for far too long. His left arm and side of his chest were left exposed. The Dashade attached two smaller vibro-axes to his belt and removed a two handed electro-broadsword. Other assorted tools of death riddled the weapons rack, some of the more acclaimed warriors were even occasionally provided some leniency with personal choice of weapons and armor, but Vher Nall had been denied that privilege years ago. Still, he knew what he was, a torrent of strength. He'd bring that torrent to bear in the arena and either find a new purpose or meet his long awaited fate.

A few other combatants from house Halcorr assembled around him. He recognized a few, but ceased learning their names. Very few curried enough favor of their dominus to be spared their lives in the arena.

This first round would have each house competing with each other against a number of beasts in the arena. Nine ramps linked to various holdings separated the participating houses. The Ninth antechamber was typically empty, housing for those insane enough to volunteer. Gladiators weren't to make targets of each other in this first round, but "accidents" always happened. The ever-wise mentor, experience, told him the field would be littered with Wrix as well as a few Nexu, but the houses always left room for surprise. If there was one thing the fighters could look forward to, it was the filtered air of the colosseum.

"May death welcome all with open arms," Vher muttered to himself. The thin wall that separated the warriors from their fates slowly descended. Crowds roared with a cheer that echoed down the ramp, and the light of the outside world beamed upon the ill-fated slaves of the Colosseum.

((OOC Thread:https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/the-hallow-colosseum-ooc.135566/))

 

[Lanius]

Head bowed, hands clasped between his legs, Lanius sat upon the hard bench. Eyes closed the Lorridian took in the sounds of the arena around them. The cheers of a crowd that sought blood, that sought death, that sought destruction. An uncivilized mob of people that had seem to have forgotten the age they lived in. The stomps of their feet, the applause, it felt as though it caused the entire arena to shake.

Lanius could feel the excitement in the air like an electric buzz. That very same buzz caused goosebumps to rise up on the warrior’s skin, not out of fear but out of his own elation at once more entering the ring. His last bout of wounds having healed up just in time to compete in the King’s gauntlet. For years Lanius strived to reach this peek, the pinnacle where the greatest warriors came together in a clash to be told for the centuries. A chance to be more than a slave lost and forgotten.

The sharp crack of a vibrowhip drew the warrior’s attention, his eyes opening and looking up to the Skakoan that wielded the weapon. Lanista Zembor. Lanius had known the Skakoan for close to a decade and in that time he’d never known the man to spare the whip. A lesson Lanius was forced to learn through experience, the scars that sat upon his back standing testament to it.

There was a slight warbling from the Skakoan as their vocalator adjusted before the booming voice came through. “Rise up and prepare thyselves. The time has come to show the galaxy that House Tambor exceeds in all ventures. Perhaps some may even earn their freedom.”

With the order given Lanius rose to his feet, there was no fear in his heart. Many of those that served under House Tambor had landed themselves in a sort of indentured servitude due to debt. A glance off to his right showed Lanius a gungan that had fallen upon ill fortune to find themselves competing. While off to the left sat a Duros who rocked back and forth, the wide crimson orbs filled with something verging on fear.

“I sought to clear my debt! Not to face death!” The Duros spat at lanista Zembor in a tone that if he were truly a slave would’ve saw skin torn from flesh.

Before the Skakoan could scold the Duros, Lanius spoke. “To enter an arena is to always risk facing death. Perhaps if you prove yourself in the arena you may find our Dominus to be merciful.” The worlds were followed by a cold glare. Lanius eyes met and bore into the Duros’ before turning back to the rack of weapons and equipment.

Grabbing the same worn bronzium cuirass that he’d worn for the better part of a decade Lanius followed it up by seizing two vibroblades. The familiar weight a comfort in the slave’s hands as he stared at the gate that separated him from the arena. If the others fell it mattered not so long as he could meet that creature once more in the arena. To repay the injury that he’d once dealt to Lanius.

" Vher Nall “ the name came out as little more than a whisper, but with it, a promise was echoed. One of revenge. Lanius would repay the debt of the defeat the Dashade had dealt upon him.

 

[Ghozza J'iira]

“Entering the arena does risk your life, but should you win you will earn riches. I ask you one last time before the collar is fitted. Are you sure you wish to enter the arena?” Said Lanista Tabr as he directed a slave to bring a shock collar over.

“I’m quite sure, thank you. Now if you please, the collar” Ghozza replied. He was disrobed and seated in what appeared to be a separate holding where those who were willing to volunteer for the arena were searched and then fitted with a shock collar. An emaciated human boy approached with the device. The hollow of the collar itself was wide enough for the child’s whole body to fit through. Thoughts of pity for the boy crossed Ghozza’s mind but he moved them to the back of his mind, now was not the time for that.

The held placed the collar around Ghozza’s neck and Lanista pressed a single button on his datapad. The collar hummed with power then magnetically snapped shut.

“As of now, your life is in my hands. Now come, you must be armed before you can enter.” Tabr led Ghozza to a small armory. The room was filled with racks of used and beaten gear. Ghozza looked at the Lanista with a confused expression on his face.

“Is this truly all you have? It’s all in need of repair!”

“We don’t get volunteers often. Most of what you see was taken from the corpses of defeated gladiators.”

Ghozza sighed in resignation and began searching through the gear for anything he could find that would suit his needs. There wasn’t much in the way of appropriate armor for a person of his size, but he made do with a durasteel cuirass. It was wide enough to fit but too short to cover his midriff. He tied on an armor weave kilt with a few bronzium plates sewn in everything below his knees was exposed but this was not a concern for him, Trandoshans rarely wore shoes in any situation. Lastly, he took a singular vibrosword.

“I’m am ready.”

“you can take another weapon or more armor. We don’t want you dying right away, that would be a waste of my time.”

“This will do,” Ghozza said with a calm demeanor. He hadn’t told the Lanista of his purpose for being here, to test himself and see if he had truly mastered the ideals of Form I. He knew the style was made for those with lightsabers to defeat those without, but his knowledge of the style went even further back. Its origins and motions came from the sword on sword combat of old. If he was truly a master of the style than this arena would be his true test.

He entered the ninth antechamber. The large space empty save for the handful of people who dare volunteer with him. The crowd roared as an array of beasts was introduced to the arena. It was an odd sensation to hear so many people clamoring in excitement for the coming combat, but he understood their excitement and its primal source. A part of him even shared their excitement.

The walls descended and the roar of the crowds grew to a deafening cacophony. Ghozza steeled himself for what was to come.

“In this place, I shall release myself into the force and find the truth of form I”

Vher Nall | Lanius

 

[Xi Jago]

In the seats the Pyke Syndicate had made an entrance, supposedly with a very odd pairing, the Hutt Cartel! Sitting side by side and sharing pleasantries was not unheard of for the two groups but not common either. Two minor organizations in galactic affairs of late, for a variety of reasons including but not limited to the systematic extermination of slavery and Hutts in general by various factions. Not here though, gladiator and slave combat was alive and well!

As far as the syndicate went, it hadn’t had it easy decade either but at least most people were not hunting Pyke’s openly as running spice was considered less of an infraction than slavery, so they still held the reins of power here and there. People still liked the stress relief of their products in these chaotic times, there was always another buyer. Both groups had an eye for a purchase or two today if they liked what they saw, both in spice and in slaves.

What was different here, was who they were backing. The Pyke’s were backing Tamat Aras, while Goros the Hutt and the cartel were backing Eevat Nocturne and they had both waged substantial bets to that effect. While Xi was here as a guard for his Under-Imperator Targ Ruine, which was a fancy name for underboss in the syndicate. The syndicate had taken to using the term Illustrious Imperator as the leading title, some of those in charge letting power go to their heads at times. None of them in the syndicate were better than the gladiators in the arena fighting for their lives. The spicesters gangsters that knew that survived longer than the ones that didn’t.

Where was the food! One of the Hutts all too predictably called out to their assembled servants. A good fight was one thing but not on an empty stomach! They'd only had 2 courses. Goros the pink Hutt opposite squawked about how the combatants were so small, who was feeding them! Which sent a rumble of laughter from some of his sycophants. The older cartel bounty hunters were largely silent, either sampling the spice the Pyke’s had brought along, chatting up a girl, or just too surly, drunk and awaiting bloodlust to care to laugh on demand.

Soon they would have their wish, with the wall descending they entered….

“500 credits on the pink skin.” Lanius . Xerron the guard next to him shouted at one of the Nocturne house members. “Green ones got this.” Xi pointed to Ghozza J'iira , negotiating their side bets, he was in for 500 too. Cleverly they'd got good enough odds that whoever won they made a profit but the Nocturne lackey they were dealing with missed it. Never out gamble a gambler, that reminded him, turning to his right he had another bet to make....

Tag: Ghozza J'iira | Lanius | Vher Nall

 

[Wasswa Timve]

Tags: Vher Nall , Lanius , Ghozza J'iira , Xi Jago

Wah's eyes flashed open as he took in a sharp gasp of breath. His vision was blurred with browns and beige and he could feel a cold dusty ground on his back, but had no idea where he was or how he got there. Voices were coming from his side, so he rolled to face them. The figures were loud and it seemed like one was barking at all the other but he couldn't understand what was being said. Wah raised his hand up to the side of his head pointed at the ceiling and rubbed it tenderly. Whatever kind of sedation they used on him still hadn't fully run its course through his body. All he could do was hope he wouldn't need to move quickly until he recovered.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered back shut and Wah fell asleep. Seconds later though, a metal boot greeted his ribs and shocked him back awake. Although Wah's senses were dulled from the sedation, he still felt the full force of the pain.

"Get up, slave!" A Trandoshan, fitted in ornate durasteel armor, towered over his laid out body. "Your time has come. Lady Relia demands you fight!"

Slave? Lady Relia? All of that was news to him but was too weak to properly protest. Instead, the Trandoshan lifted Wah to his feet and slammed a short durasteel sword against his chest.

"Hurry up! Crowds are waitin'!"

Wah's head was spinning as he was lead to the pit's entrance by the lizard man. He could hardly stand upright by himself and the weight of the sword now in his hand was throwing his balance off. The Trandoshan could see this and grinned. "You better not die out there right away. Lady Relia sure would be disappointed."

With those last words the wall slowly fell in front of him. As the light of the Colosseum hit his eyes, he squinted and the Trandoshan distanced himself. Wah took the short seconds before the fight to try and collect whatever bits of himself he could and awaken the Lavi inside of him. He would need all the strength he could muster to possibly survive whatever came next.

 

[Vher Nall]

"Hallowed are The Five! Hallowed are those who spill blood this day! Hallowed are us all!" And with the end of Bartin Vorst's customary proclamation, the games had begun.

The rear gate had shut behind the warriors of house Halcorr, denying them escape from the coming carnage. Still-living cadavers whined in protest, trying to claw their ways back inside. Sheep among wolves. Survival here was often a sprint. The last to charge was the first to lose or in this case, die. Resigned to his fate, Vher Nall exhaled his melancholy thoughts and inhaled strength. With it, the air about him charged with life anew.

The Dashade's instincts proved correct with plentiful Wrix scattered across the grounds accompanied by more than a few Nexu. There was also a mix of Veermok and a quintet of Kell Dragons. He tightened his legs, then beamed into the sandy fields with the all ferocity of a hungering Rancor, snarling as he drove his weapon overhead. With him, the roars of the nine gates raged as true combatants made predators into prey.

A Nexu challenged the Dashade for the title of Apex predator, as it lunged through the air, Vher Nall dropped his sword on the beast’s neck, dislodging it from the rest of its body. The heavy carcass fell limp and tumbled past Vher Nall. Next, a small pack of Veermok tried their luck, foaming at the mouth in anticipation of their meal. Vher spun into a whirl slicing off the trunk-like arms of the forward two before bisecting a third. The fourth and final of the pack swung wildly forcing Vher to back peddle a few steps into a Rodian that had been hiding behind him. The Dashade spun to defend from his potential assailant. Cowardice! He thought. He grabbed the sentient by the head and threw the screaming caitiff to the Veermok who thoroughly tore the man apart. A distracted beast made for easy game. Vher ran the Veermok through and powered up the electrical current within the weapon. The beast fell to seizure and shock then went limp.

Vher Nall scanned the field in his moment of reprieve. An arena without Xercuv was an honorable arena once again. Without the threat of the mighty Gen'Dai, the houses spared no expense in acquiring first-rate warriors. Even the ninth gate housed fighters this day. Were outsiders growing so bold? A Trandoshan chief among them stood out in the slaughter. Humans, Twi'Lek, Miralan, Besalisk and even a few Wookiees paved their way through the carnage. These fields were different than those of past years. The era of Xercuv was no more, even if Vher hadn't the pleasure of ending it himself. That would have to wait for another day.

One of the three Kells reengaged the Dashade's focus as it trounced through three of Halcorr's gladiators and came face to face with Vher Nall.

"Still have it in you?" Rugi Tyk, a Zabrak and the only Halcorr warrior Vher Nall bothered to commune with, teased.
"We shall see," Vher lunged up above the beast bringing his weapon to bear.

Lanius Ghozza J'iira Xi Jago Wasswa Timve

 

[Telani]

(I've been invited in.)

Telani, the former Sith Apprentice and one of two volunteers for gladitorial combat, was currently having one of the collars fired to her neck. She didn't really care, it wasn't uncomfortable and didn't seem to pose any serious threat. She had given her lightsabers over with the clear intent of reclaiming them once the fights were over and done with.

After having her clothes returned to her, at least the pants, shoes and wraparound bra, she was lead to the armoury, where she selected a single vibrosaber from the racks and no armour. From there she was brought to the ninth antechamber to await combat.

Rather than sitting on one of the rough benches provided, she knelt and sat back on her heels with her eyes closed. She did as her old Master had instructed, and called together every negative emotion she had, present or past, and channeling this anger to fuel her drive to win, to kill.

She maintained this form of hate meditation until the doors opened. Until then her breathing became noticeably deeper and more ragged, as though angry.

 

[Xi Jago]

Hallowed are The Five! Hallowed are those who spill blood this day! Hallowed are us all!

A roar came up from the crowd, as the first weapon or claws clashed, echoed in the clink of glasses or the credit chits changing hand to the bookies and brokers handling the exchange of bets. Xi was comfortable, he'd made at least five bets overlapping the odds enough to come out on top. The opulence even in small time gangsters was a stark contrast to a gladiator's life. It wasn't the finest wines or liquors they held in their hands but it wasn't the throat of your mortal foe either.

Wasswa Timve , Vher Nall , Telani , their names or fighting identities were shouted and cheered in a competitive spirit between the many onlookers, some throwing petals, others blowing kisses to their favorites, a few throwing valuable coins for the victors to take if they survived.

Cheers of all the different warrior names and the houses were shouted, though no chant had been given dominance yet, as there were many competing voices for favorite. The colosseum was good-natured for the most part, nobody had lost any money, respect and it was all to fight for still. Everyone was enjoying the opening as the beasts were unleashed upon the fighters.

As the Rodian was felled for cowardice it got a round of applause and several people raised their glasses to mark first blood. A moment's silence among the Pykes before they cracked open some of the special stock, and for their part the stands began to resemble an orange spice weather cloud about to rain down upon the participants. Thankfully it didn’t reach the arena, just their hutt guests nearby, there were some insults exchange from a bounty hunter or two not wanting to lose their focus from inhaling smoke. Tough luck in this group. The Hutts themselves were joining in the spice parade, sampling the goods in a sugary form, encrusted over small grubs they were shoveling into their waiting maws. That and of course cake. Lots of cake.

Still have it in you?

The Hutts watched the exchange below with great interest, forgoing a serving of food, temporarily. "No chuba da wanga, da wanga" No not that one the other one, their stubby fingers tried to decipher who was about to die first.

Tag: Ghozza J'iira | Lanius | Vher Nall | Wasswa Timve | Telani

 

[Leon Amun]

Lanius | Ghozza J'iira | Wasswa Timve | Telani

Five Weeks Earlier:

"You Can't be serious!" Said The Dominus of House Vorst said, his eyes bulging with shock "This is a serious blood sport not one of your matches! How do you expect anyone to take you seriously!?" The man added with a sputter. Leon did not understand what the problem was, they were pretty simple demands that everyone accommodated before.

"You wanted the Murderhawke" Leon replied, smiling sweetly, reminding the man that the houses reached out to him. The Houses wanted a bit of flair this year in the midst of their former champion vacating his position. "The Murderhawke requires them to get the crowd in the mood!" He gently chided the red faced man as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The Murderhawke promises that everyone will be satisfied in the end" He gave the Dominus a wink and a thumbs up, making sure he knew that the Mandalorian could be trusted, unbeknownst to Leon, the look on Bartin's face portrayed no such trust.

"I can't believe I'm doing this for a man who refers to himself in the third person" Bartin Vorst groaned, holding his head in his hands "Fine! Fine! But this year better be the best frakking King's gauntlet I've ever seen or you will get what's coming to you" Vorst Threatened. A threat which confused Leon, after all what was coming to him was a large sum of money!

-----

Leon took a deep breath as the crowds cheered, stretching his body out before the fighting. As he waited he tested out his movement in the durasteel armor provided for him and inspected the Vibrosword, hammer, and knives also given to him for the upcoming event. He was a little more than surprised that they were so generous to him, after all in wrestling all he had on were boots and leggings! He would have been completely fine with that but Mr. Vorst was pretty insistent on giving him a whole bunch of presents!

Leon grinned to himself as he looked down at the arena from his spot at the top of the bleachers, waiting for the signal that marked his entrance. As if summoned by his very thought, a load piercing shriek of Hawk-bat filled the arena followed by a pyrotechnic display, highlighting the stairs the Murderhawke was walking down. The Mandalorian heard more than a few screams of terror as some unsuspecting audience members were burned by the surprise fire show but it did not deter him. Neither did the confused looks on the peoples faces as he made his way to the Arena for he knew that what would turn this grand event into a huge spectacle was just around the corner.

"WEEEEEEEEEELLLLLL WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT BOBBA! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT! THE MURDERHAWKE MANDALORIAN LEON HAWKE IS ENTERING THE ARENA!" The voice of one of his announcers boomed through the speakers they had set up around the arena.

"It is simply unbelievable Jimma! Simply unbelievable" Replied Bobba "The Murderhawke has been gone for two years and suddenly makes an appearance in a gladiatorial competition way out here? What is he thinking!?" The conversation made the Murderhawke grin and the crowd go wild, Leon knew that if anyone could get a crowd going it was his best friends, the announcers Jimma and Bobba. The Former Universal Heavyweight champion raised his hand in the air as he finished his final steps before jumping down into the arena right on top of one of the Kell dragons.

"I would Hate to be anyone in that Arena right now Bobba, It seems The Murderhawke Mandalorian is coming back with a Vengence!"

 

[Vher Nall]

The air around the Dashade's weapon crackled with an electrical charge, the blade mere centimeters from its intended target. A short distance away, a blast of some sort washed the arena with heat but it didn't distract the hunter from his quarry. Just as the electro-broadsword was about to pierce the beast's skull, it began to rattle. One of the massive spikes on its head parried the would-be killing blow. Vher flung off course and dug his claws into the side of the dragon to slow his descent. He then rolled across the dusty ground and sprung up with his blade at the ready. The creature was still aggressively shaking, as if agitated. There were two rows of pyrotechnic flares bursting on the stands just behind the Kell. This was an odd gauntlet.

Was that the source of the dragon's aberration though? No. Mounted atop the Kell was a fairly large white-haired human. Does the fool crave death? The Dashade thought. If any of the three rows of spikes caught the man he'd be torn apart. Their sharp edges were not unlike that of their cousins, the mighty Krayt Dragon.

Still, Vher Nall was not one to neglect opportunity. The suicidal rider kept the beast distracted from the threat before it. Vher Nall sprinted to the dragon's side, a trail of dust left in his wake. A wild swipe of the Kell's claws nearly tore his head clean off but Vher dropped into a slide. As he skid underneath the dragon, Vher dragged his weapon across the creature's gut, where softer scales yielded to the blade.

The Kell's trunk-like legs shook as the Dashade emerged from the opposite side of its belly. Vher snatched one of the vibro-axes from his belt and struck it into the ground slowing him to a stop. He then lunged upright and spun readying his next attack. The crowds cheered as others began to tear into the Wrix, Veermoks, and Nexu packs. Still the other two dragons stood.

With his back still clear near the edge of the arena, Vher approached the fallen dragon. The creature was still breathing, best to give it an honorable death. He hooked the vibro-axe back onto his belt and raised his electro-sword overhead.

Retaliation was the beast. Before Vher could behead the dragon its eyes shot open with renewed fury, a second wind. It smashed its head into the Dashade's torso, the air evacuated his lungs and his body sent flying. He collided with a lethan Twi-lek then crashed onto the ground. Something inside had certainly broken. Leaning on his broadsword, Vher picked himself up. He gave the Twi-lek a quick look, another of the volunteers? He recalled her emerging from the ninth gate alongside the Trandoshan and a few others. So many volunteers, an odd Gauntlet indeed.

Vher Nall turned his attention back to the dragon. Its own gaze now fixated on him as well. The other creatures and combatants fell out of focus, the onlookers had become mute. The world itself peeled away until there was only a Dashade and a Kell. Hunter and hunted. The only question, which was the predator and which was the prey? The two charged one last time.

Lanius Ghozza J'iira Xi Jago Wasswa Timve Telani Leon Amun

 

[Ghozza J'iira]

The chaos of the arena grew as more blood was shed. Creatures and combatants alike were being torn at the seems for glory and the entertainment of others. Ghozza tried not to think about it as a Veermok lunged at him. The beast swung wildly; claws already slick with blood cut through the air as they tried to find purchase in his flesh. Ghozza dodged the blows with ease, his motions became fluid as he released his body from conscious control.

Muscle memory took control. He flowed with the motions of form I velocities. Years of practice had made the motions second nature. The rapid transition from attack to defense and back again was seamless as he delivered but after strike after strike. The Veermok before him was felled quickly by a series of cuts to the abdomen. As it fell Ghozza delivered the deathblow and moved on to his next target.

One by one creatures would fall as Ghozza made his way to the center of the arena. All around him the weakest of the gladiators fell. With each life the beasts claimed the crowd whipped into a frenzy. This stage served to eliminate the weakest competitors and ensure an even greater show during the later stages. Once the weak were gone the true show could begin.

Kell dragons approached the remaining gladiators. Ghozza took to one swiftly with his sword raised. The creature roared as it charged forward with its maw agape. Almost reflexively the Trandoshan went to call upon the force to send the creature flying but hesitated. It would defeat the purpose of him being here to use such measures. His hesitation would cost him as the creature slammed into him sending him several meters into the air. He landed with a thud signals wracked his body. Standing up he faced the creature once more. He took a slow deep breath and released himself of control once more.

 

[Telani]

Kell dragons. She had never had the pleasure of fighting and killing one before, especially with an interior weapon, but she wasn't too worried. A sith was not easily taken by any beast. She would hold off on using the force for anything save assisting her acrobatics as she flipped and spun to cut through the beast that she faced. She stood in front of one and prepared to charge when the massive gladiator smashed into her from the side.

She summersaulted back onto her feet and looked at him. She shook her head and returned her attention to the dragon, and charged with the speed of an Ataru practitioner, trained from birth by the sith. Her feet were a blur, and her vibrosaber held to the side, ready to kill. The first thing she did, was leap over the dragon, with force enhanced thrust she barrel rolled over the dragon, cutting with every pass across the scaled back of the beast, and landing midway down its tail before leaping free of its reach. How much damage was done, was uncertain, but she was going to kill this monster, or she'd die trying, and she was not going to die here.

 

[Xi Jago]

Tag: Leon Amun | Vher Nall | Ghozza J'iira | Telani

Arrival of the Murderhawke Mandalorian was given a standing wave that rippled across most of the seats. Jimma and Bobba being paid a substantial credchit by a Hutt Syndicate lackey, to mention certain business interests at any lull in the action. Arms dealers and Bounty Hunting services. One or two fighters might even be wielding Fire For Effects new line of song steel swords. Leon Amun

New additions to the betting pool threw off Xi’s odds and the Pyke’s were fast doing some haggling for new bets behind the scenes. Various armored Pyke figures in the stands could be seen arguing with the Hutts and the locals for better odds. Old famous names in the arena had sent the gamblers into a panic.

DRAGONSLAYER

DRAGONSLAYER

KRAYTSLAYER

The chant went up for Vher Nall as the huge beast fell. The name Kraytslayer or Dragonslayer was already being passed around, certain arguments as to which fit him better were getting quite heated among the hardcore fans.

There was an ooooooohhhhh from one of the Hutts as Ghozza J'iira was slammed around. Bets being taken if he would survive the impact or if it would cost him dearly. The panic from the Hutt backing him was heard loud and wide, his slug tail thrashing around, while the Hutt betting against rubbed his tiny hands together, looking to soon earn a payday from his rival.

Odds on large holoscreens were being held up by the prettiest Twi’leks around. Flashed for the audience, as the numbers changed with every death or impact. They walked back and forth at the rear of the colosseum behind the Hutts and Pykes offering updated odds, the holonet frenzy of betters now hit its peak. Serious gamblers from far and wide had a better idea of the fighters, their abilities better measured, and so vast sums of credits were on the line. The total numbers running into the millions from thousands of anonymous sources in a constant stream of data.

The twi’lek screens flashed again, highlighting @Telani’s display on replay. Being given some serious attention by one group of the female mercenaries. Two biths with their huge black eyes were bobbing there heads, and an entire line of pale female Kage were off their feet hanging on her display, clapping wildly. The longer the gladiators survived the bigger their fan clubs and hopeful gamblers grew, as more people rooted for them or bet on their hopeful victory. Telani's name now competed with the others for dominance in the cheers and chants.

But one or two heads sagged. Some people had already lost so much, they were now gambling again to try to win it back….

 

[Vher Nall]

The Dashade and the Kell, two diametrically opposed beasts burst toward one another. The Kell struggled to maintain its charge, a wounded gut taking its toll. Still, its razor-sharp teeth would make a minced meal of the Dashade with all the ease they would a Nunas swamp turkey. They came to ten meters distance, seven, five, three. Vher lifted his weapon then beamed it into his quarry. Blood spurt from the dragon's eye. With a roar that was felt as much as it was heard, the dragon continued its charge shuffling its head from side to side. Vher took hold of the twin vibro-axes along his belt and jumped plunging atop of the dragon's maw. He dug the left weapon into the top of the dragon's mouth, then with both hands and all his weight pulled the remaining axe down the side of the beast's throat.

A machine composed of muscle and bone, the Kell's fury only grew. It veered left and trampled over various creatures and gladiators until it finally crashed headfirst into the wall. The stony interior cracked and rubble poured atop dragon which collapsed under the weight. The sudden stop saw Vher Nall slam into the wall beside the beast. Insult added to injury, a loose piece of debris cracked on Ver Nall's shoulder. The Dashade's body was pain, muscled shouted in defiance as he commanded them to stand. Vher came too and with a weary gaze looked over the Kell. Finally, the dragon remained unmoving. Vher leaned against the carcass and dislodged his weapons then turned his attention back to the field, ready to charge despite his injuries. Before he had the chance he was brought to stop.

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W wave of euphoria washed the pain away. Vher lifted his right hand into the air victoriously. He was the predator. The dragon had been prey. Technically it was a Kell dragon, a cousin to the larger Krayt, but at that moment it made no difference. Those years in silence, overshadowed by his Gen'Dai rival, would be burnt away. Across the field the carnage continued. Other Kells had engaged the warriors of the arena, attempting to make meals of what seemed to be some of the more capable fighters. Across the grounds, a slew of carcasses, both man and beast lay unmoving. The wheat had begun to distinguish itself from the chaff. The first round would be over soon.

 

[Telani]

Telani, who had never faced a Dragon before, was not too versed in their weaknesses, so she figured she'd just have to make one for herself. Enhancing her connection to the force by focusing on it, she used this connection to subtly enhance her physical capabilities, strenght and speed to be specific, endurance was not a problem. With this enhanced speed and her hard earned agility, she went for the less obvious routes to strike the creature. rolling under before flipping over it, slashing all the while. She didn't get by entirely unscathed. It's claw had caught her hip, and drew blood, not a fatal or critical injury, but it would make moving around like she had more painful, all the better to fuel her. Pain, hate, anger and fear were a Sith's greatest allies, so the more pain she felt, the stronger she was. It was time that she finished this.

Having witnessed Vher Nall defeat his dragon, she understood that she could use the Dragon's own strength against it, or pit it against one of the other dragons still living and sit back to watch the fireworks. Spying another dragon she dashed for it. She slowed down as to not discourage her own dragon from following her, but she wouldn't let it catch her. The dragon's sight was fixed on the elusive prey, until it had crashed headlong into another dragon of similar size. Now she needed only hope that they'd fight each other and not team up.

 

[Darth Hadrius]

How cowardly of you, my former apprentice

Observing Telani and how she fled from the beast in an attempt to pit it against another of its kind. He had never thought that she'd lower herself so far. And she used to be such a fierce warrior too, able to fry five people at a time with her force lightning, and cut down platoons of men and emerge from the fray unscathed. Oh how far she had fallen. She had yet to understand that the only way to grow in strength was to challenge it, meet every foe head on and slay them without pity or remorse. As he was currently doing to his opponent, a dragon like the others, only faring far worse than most others.

With his fury and his skill as his allies, he had run, leapt and dove beneath and around the dragon, cutting and stabbing endlessly. The dragon's left cheek had been split from the corner of its mouth to the back of its jaw. Its left back foot was missing all but two toes. In addition to missing it's toes, he had just hamstringed its back right ankle, forcing it to crawl on its two front talons only. Running along its spiny back, he delivered the killing blow, cutting its throat open int four different places, and he let it choke on its own blood. Gruesom, gory and it caused unnecessary suffering, and he loved it. It was almost time for him to slaghter his former apprentice for having betrayed him, or force her to follow the tradition of the Sith and die by her hand. Either way, he won, she would complete the Sith rite of passage, or die.

 

[Telani]

It worked. Her plan worked. Now the two dragons were killing each other rather than her. She stood there and waited for the fight to be over. Claws tore at scales and the flesh beneath them, blood drained onto the sand, and the fight between beasts came to a close. The one she had battled emerged victorious, and was pretty beat up afterwards. So, with immense swiftness and good aim, she drove her blade into the beast's throat, and opened a fatal wound. The dragon, now dying, was defeated, and she had an injured hip as a reminder.

In this temporary break in the cobat, she sensed something, a presence that she hadn't felt in a long time, but a presence that was familiar to her. Dread crept into her heart, it couldn't be, she had to be mistaken. But she knew that she wasn't, the Force didn't lie. He was there, in the arena. It wasn't until she spotted the dragon with cruel lacerations all over its body that she knew where exactly he was. She met his eyes, and her dread turned to rage. This would be a day of reckoning.

 

[Darth Hadrius]

(Since nobody else is replying, I'll just post.

It worked. Her plan worked. Now the two dragons were killing each other rather than her. She stood there and waited for the fight to be over. Claws tore at scales and the flesh beneath them, blood drained onto the sand, and the fight between beasts came to a close. The one she had battled emerged victorious, and was pretty beat up afterwards. So, with immense swiftness and good aim, she drove her blade into the beast's throat, and opened a fatal wound. The dragon, now dying, was defeated, and she had an injured hip as a reminder.

In this temporary break in the cobat, she sensed something, a presence that she hadn't felt in a long time, but a presence that was familiar to her. Dread crept into her heart, it couldn't be, she had to be mistaken. But she knew that she wasn't, the Force didn't lie. He was there, in the arena. It wasn't until she spotted the dragon with cruel lacerations all over its body that she knew where exactly he was. She met his eyes, and her dread turned to rage. This would be a day of reckoning.

She was angry, and growing stronger as she did. Good, he wanted to kill her at her strongest, only then would vengeance be complete. Unless she would manage to slay him. He stood ready, before dashing forward at his former apprentice. He slashed down at her as he approached, he doubted that he'd actually hit her on the first try, but if he never attempted, then he'd never hit her. His own hate was piled into this, so he'd be dangerous to her, just as she'd be dangerous to him. It was time for one of them to die.