ToC: Vulpesen VS. Fabula Cavataio

[Louise]

It was time for the Tournament of the Cauldron to export itself.

Try as hard as they did, there was just no way of perfectly replicating the different environments they required for round two of their grand event. They had made their unrealistic requests, demanding that they somehow replicate the climate and habitat of some of the most extreme planets in the galaxy. Mere simulations would not be good enough, it had to be real, it had to feel real and when enough slaves and scientists had perished at their hands for such impractical ineptitude it was only then that the Queens of Rattatak had decided that they were going to have to use the real thing.

The remaining contestants were to be shipped out, given the luxuries of celebrated gladiators and plenty of opportunity to rest and prepare for the next fights ahead.

Back at the Cauldron a multitude of screens were set up, surrounding the arena so that no detail could be missed of the now televised spectacle, the pit below for once completely devoid of action. Nothing would take the limelight from their glorious occasion.

The screens flickered to life...

TRENCHES, HOTH

Ah, you were expecting a Rebel Base.

This was a fight for the minimalists among us. Trenches, five feet wide and nine feet tall had been freshly dug for this event. Why? Perhaps for comedic effect, in the hopes that either the Jedi Knight @[member="Vulpesen"] or hotly-tipped favourite @[member="Fabula Cavataio"] would lose their footing and fall in.

There was a hint of cruelty to this bout. The harsh climate of Hoth threatening to take extremities, along with the pride of the eventual loser. Of course, in the name of fairness both combatants had been offered a selection of furs and padded clothing to fight in but naturally such thick wrappings really put a hamper of manoeuvrability.

Of course, if you were well studied there were certain techniques at hand...

The very sight of the frozen planet back upon the screen seemed to have a cooling effect of the spectators. The power of images. Of course this had an impact upon the sales of fans around the Cauldron but, you know, what's a little dent in extra profits when there's a butt in every seat?

 

[Vulpesen]

The white figure stood out in stark contrast to the flat terrain of Hoth's barren land. Being a fairly small person, Vulpesen absolutely hated the cold and thus he was bundled in an extremely thick set of robes. He had made sure to keep most of his movement possible as he knew it was his best asset, but that still didn't leave him anything short of bulky. "Why me?" Things he hated included the color white, zero terrain advantages, the cold, and fighting people capable of turning him into dust. This battle seemed to combine all of those things into one glorious epitome of kark his life! Still, the jedi was not without his usual bag of tricks. Under the bundles of robes he had some rather basic armor, made of plasteel which managed to cover his torso but not much else. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. He could have gotten a free set of furs from the creators of the competition, but when your master/father is a wealthy merchant/senator, such things are quite easy to get a hold of on ones own.

His attention moved to his thoughts on @[member="Fabula Cavataio"]. He had heard that she held a natural disposition to melee combat. Knowing his small frame would be weak against such things, the jedi had spent the previous night sharpening his twenty-five daggers and maintaining his blaster pistol. Along the edges of his outer robes there were ten concussion grenades, five on each side to give him a few quick surprises. Other than those items and his saberstaff he was rather unarmed. As strange as such a description was, it was quite accurate when one compared it to his days during the war against the sith. He had heard of Fabula's prowess in battle and he had come prepared to face it... he hoped.

 

[Fabula Caromed]

Hoth was cold. It was really, incredibly cold.

Fabula had always wanted to come to Hoth. In the beginning, it was simply to fight wampas and other ice monsters. During her early days as her mothe-...as Petra's enforcer, all she could see the planet for were its creatures and battles. Her Matukai contemplations and training hadn't exactly changed her desire, but they had certainly given her a new perspective on it. She wanted to visit Hoth, find a snowstorm, a frozen lake, an ice cave...experience the natural fury of the planet. Maybe she'd have time to do that after she finished this.

The Force boiled in her veins, blunting the effect of the around frigid atmosphere. A blizzard wouldn't freeze her with Matukai conditioning channeling the Force to protect her, though she certainly did feel a little chilled. Fabs hadn't bothered dressing any different for the occasion. Black clothes on white snow might have been quite easy to spot indeed, but Fabula didn't have a problem with that. She had outrun a tornado; this was chump change. Sure, that Alna Merrill's punished old toolbelt and its contents - datapad, hydrospanner, two worn old lightsabers - were less resistant, but Fabs would be totally okay.

She strode into the white haze of snow with nary a care in the world, silent in the roaring ice and wind. This was what she wanted. This. The raw power of Hoth. The very blood of winter itself. This would be a fight for her to remember. Just in case her enemy wasn't contemplating his surroundings as intensely as she was, though, Fabula clenched her fists and twisted her arms into a ready position, then brought them into a tight prayer. Matukai iron skin. The cold and most everything else would have quite a difficult time getting through her flesh now.
@[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's eyes shot across the barren landscape, easily catching sight of his opponent. He could feel the force flowing inside her and his steps moved slowly across the snow. Just don't die. His hands slipped into the robes as he cautiously made his way to a nearby trench. A head on conflict would make this a very short match. No, it would be best if he prepared a few of his little tricks before he even thought of engaging the enemy. Don't die and you'll be alright. He wasn't sure if he could win, but he'd beaten the odds before. He would just have to do it all over again.

@[member="Fabula Cavataio"]