Duel Tournament of Iron | The Final Round

[Ra Vizsla]

Ord Mantell City

The Underworld Fight Pits

"I told you from the start,

there's only two rules.

Do not stop.

And may the strongest win."

Ra began fastening his gauntlets tighter, moving into the middle of the underground coliseum. Nearly a hundred patrons surrounded them all - this seemed to be the site of some sort of fight club for the Crime Syndicates on Ord Mantell. The crowds bellowed and hollered, obviously liquored up, or perhaps under the influence of more illicit substances.


"Your performances have been pitiful. Pathetic. Embarrassing.

Dishonorable.

You do not deserve a Crown of Iron.

You deserve the dust.

You deserve to hear the might of the galaxy's Strongest

from beneath their feet,

reduced to licking the stench

they leave in their wake."

Ra motioned to one of the bystanders on the edge of the arena, and they threw his spear in return. He slammed it into the ground, staring at the three combatants, his green visor emblazoned and shining throughout the dimly lit shelter in which the crowds had gathered.

"Come.

Earn your place

DO NOT STOP.

MAY ONLY THE STRONGEST TASTE VICTORY."

Ra lifted his arms to the crowd, gripping his spear, and they roared in response. A buzzer, in the distance, counted quickly down.

And the gong roared throughout the arena.




Upon the duel starting, it was rather peculiar that the former Mand'alor did not leave as he had done before,
but rather sat in the middle of the arena with his spear.




Muad Dib | Aya Clarke | Haastal Haran​

 

[Muad Dib]

Quietly, an odd choice for the Madman, he watched the bystanders of perhaps hundreds wait with liquid courage and the rambunctiousness of impatience. The crowds were promised battle, war, Titans of combat proving their mettle against one another in defiant display of martial skill, masterful strategy, and perhaps a hint of fickle Lady Luck. And, as every round winnowed down the list of warriors, the empty promise of entertaining clash was held out as a tantalizing promise that fell deafly.

Muad Dib advanced through the rounds with nary a blow falling from his hand or foe standing across the sands of the arena in defiance.

Whether through unseen twists of fate, fear from his opponents, or the unseen manipulation of invisible acts of randomness … he arrived in the finale unblooded.

This was not how it should be. Warriors earned their place in war. Soldiers proved themselves in battle. Fighters garnered reputation through fights. And in this tournament of elites, he was denied all opportunity.

Until now.

Aya Clarke was a name and face he recognized. Both served on the battlefronts of many Confederate theatres of war. Yet, always on the same side. Haastal Haran was an unknown, however, the surname spoke of a common tie. Verd was a name he well knew. One he learned to be carried by worthy vode in the past. He momentarily wondered if today would prove true as in years past.

The judge of this final battle was one he knew of. One he met before. One who stuck at him with a battle ax in a previous meeting that escalated into a short lived fight.

One he swore he would meet again to cross blades with.

The words of Ra Vizsla stirred the hearts of all that heard the honeyed speech that fell from the Undying's lips. Words to inspire and cajole the combatants into action to prove their worth. A decent enough announcement to push the three finalists into action. But the armored man neither retreated nor cleared the area of battle. Instead he clutched his spear and almost dared the others to meet him in the middle.

The muted black hue of Muad's beskar'gam reflected no light across the matte black armor even as the visor turned to meet the judge's own visor. A thin, grim smile stretched his lips from within the buy'ce even as his right hand went over his shoulder and pulled the beskad free from it's sheath across his back. The curved blade twirled with the rotation of his wrist even as he shifted his stance, not towards the other two finalists but, facing Ra.

"A crown of Iron? Keep it. You owe me blood and the life of an ally named Kentarch. The bill comes due and today one of us will pay the price. Oya ner vod. Oya!"

And so he moved forward, stalking across the sands, to meet the judge as warrior to warrior. The crowd wanted excitement and action and the pyromaniac was fully prepared to offer both in service to Chaos. The coliseum was a familiar setting, and the sands of the arena would receive their watering and the crowd would be blessed with the sacrifice of blood.

The distance closed between the men and Muad Dib grinned in anticipation as the tip of his beskad lanced out from his left in a lazy yet powerful horizontal slice seeking the articulated joint below Ra's helm atop his shoulders in a stroke half test and half aggressive first strike.

 

[Haastal Haran]

FIGHT​

Tags: Ra Vizsla Muad Dib Aya Clarke ​

Free for all.

Sounded like a good gig to Haastal. Three men stepping into the ring and only one was expected to be the victor. These were the kinds of tournaments that the Mandalorians thrived in, weren't they?

He had to show a good fight, if nothing else. When Haastal stepped into the arena his eyes gazed out at the surrounding crowd with a smirk. "Yea, watch me." He muttered before pulling the combat rifle that was slung over his shoulder into his hands. Haastal loaded a clip of armor piercing rounds into the magazine well before giving the charging handle a fluid draw. The smooth metallic click of the well-oiled weapon caused him to smirk softly.

Haastal did hesitate. The host of the games had descended into these pits with a spear wielded with deadly intent. He didn't seem content on merely watching this last bought, perhaps he was to be a part of the final match as well? It didn't make a difference, the Mandalorian warrior was no different than any other and Haastal would try his hardest to end his life. Haastal watched as Muad Dib took steps forward, turning his own attention to Ra Vizsla and almost immediately drawing his weapon to face down against the Mandalorian. If Haastal had been a spectator he'd been interested in watching the fight between the two men, but he wasn't and now more than anything all he could think about was ending two lives for the price of one.

He tapped a button on his gauntlet, causing his jetpack to flare as it's jets prepared to explode out into flight. His feet left the ground as he flew up into the air above the ring, suspended a few meters off the ground he shouldered the buttstock to his rifle, aiming it at both Muad Dib and Ra Vizsla . "That crown is mine." He called out, firing the weapon directly at the two Mandalorians. It was a suppressive hail of fire, peppering the area between the two warriors. ​

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[Aya Clarke]

Aya was, to say the least, a little insulted. She had come here to fight, to test herself, and from the sands of combat rise a better warrior for it. Winning had never been the goal, merely an enticing prospect to serve as a measuring stick. And yet, her foes were beaten by... to be perfectly frank she was unsure on what grounds she surpassed them. It simply made no sense, and she hated every aspect of why she was not given a proper test of resolve. Such a fury burned in her heart that she simply could not ignore the desire to slam her fist into each and every one of them until they gave her what she desperately wanted.

And now here she was, clad in her finest armor, wielding her finest armaments, and her opponents chose to ignore her. The first, Muad Dib had clearly personal reasons to so brazenly give no concern to her, something she couldn't fault him for in the slightest. Though it was still an insult to her honor as he stalked the arena towards the judge-seemingly-turned-combatant Ra Vizsla . She considered intercepting the man, lowering her weapon Yei Karkan so as to unfasten the flag at the end, letting the cloth rest on the ground to reduce the weapon's drag. The original plan was to simply hurl the weapon at him, but that changed as the other combatant chose to take to the air.


Haastal Haran 's actions not only took him out of range, but he too was ignoring her in favor of the others. That anger that was boiling in her chest finally spilled over, and her course of action became cemented. She fired up her suit's built in repulsors, blasting off of the ground right towards him. The pack was considerably less noisy than a jet pack, but the result was still her equipment screeching through the air on course with the flying mandalorian. She blasted just off to the side, then forward, aiming her phrik spear directly at his side. Armor would have a chink somewhere she could slip the spear head through, she just simply had to find it, or hope she could rely on inertia to take him down.

Regardless of the result, she still shouted with venom soaked words, "I do not appreciate being ignored, Monsieur."

 

[Ra Vizsla]

"Kentarch?

Who is Kentarch?"

Ra's emerald visor seemed to narrow as he would deflect the aggressive over reach from Muad Dib , batting it to the side with his spear and taking a step back to give ground. It was pretty obvious by now Ra had no intention of leaving the arena and would indeed be participating in the last fight. He stayed silent, moving again away from Muad as the other Mando'ade erupted in hailfire on the two.

That's when the Undying sprinted, springing into action as he bolted away from the two and off to the side. His white wolf's cloak, whisking behind him and seeming to float as the larger Ra began to cover ground towards one other adversary in the Arena - Aya Clarke .

He positioned himself so that she was between him and Haastal Haran , the shooter. If the ranged fighter had chosen to pursue Ra, her body would provide him protection for now.

"How rude of me,"

Ra peaked, standing at his full height, looking down.

A crimson gauntleted right hand went for her throat,

to lift her off her feet and into the air.​

 

[Muad Dib]

Haastal Haran I Aya Clarke I Ra Vizsla

Ra was there, just in reach of his beskad. The tip neared the other man’s throat even as the larger mando deflected the testing strike in a not unexpected maneuver. Even creating space between the two was not unanticipated. What was unexpected was the flash of white cloak as the Undying seemingly tucked lupine tail to run. This was the great Ra? Perhaps the madman expected too much from the former mand’alor. Even great men grew old and tasted the fear of their own mortality. Or so they said. Usually pasty bookworms hidden in bunkers surrounded by junk food and the stench of reused caffeinated bottles holding the stench of body fluids.

Then the telltale sound of rounds tracking between the two mando’ade gave testament that the blood Muad so wished would not come so easily, nor freely. His body reacted from honed reflexes and instincts. Ducking to utilize the nearly seven foot tall profile of Ra, Muad ran after the Undying attempting to stay out of the line of fire from the mando floating above.

Of course the plan of action didn’t quite pan out perfectly. A few rounds glanced off his beskar’gam even as he turned his profile to ensure the shots didn’t hit straight on. Still felt as though a rabid gungan just kicked the stripes off his candy cane. Stupid rabid gungans were almost as bad as giant running gurlanin while getting potshot by another mando nearly half a foot taller than the madman.

Why were all the mandos so bloody big?

Had to be all the times mando’ad blew up and radiated Manda’yaim. Genetic freaks. Just give us some old fashioned corn and nerf fed mandos. But no, gotta infuse them with all the different radiations used countless times in the attempts to destroy home.

Another round ricocheted off the armor on his hip nearly spinning him. Bloody shooters and thin beskar made for bruises and passing more blood than urine.

And then Aya Clarke leapt to action.

Not to be ignored or one to become a spectator she went into motion. Repulsors fired and her spear came to the fore as she prepared to show the floating Verd mando the error of his mistake. At least until Ra circled about to try to play handsy pansy with the woman. Hopefully it would prove distracting as Muad spun on his heel and twirled about to match his blade with a round about to be fired from the rifle. His wrist turned slightly at the retort and the projectile collided with the flat of the beskad, the round deflected back toward the offending rifle and shooter.

Using his spinning momentum he dove forward, hopefully slipping beneath the body of Verd, even as he blindly lanced his blade upwards toward the mando as Muad sought to close the distance of the four combatants back into a knot of close range warriors.

 

[Haastal Haran]

FIGHT​

Tags: Muad Dib Ra Vizsla Aya Clarke ​

In the skies, Haastal had fired off a single salvo of rounds, his lips curling into a smirk as they slammed into the armored plates of Muad Dib beskar. It was going to take a few more rounds to pierce that armor, it was prime Beskar'gam and wasn't going to part for a few armor piercing rounds. Haastal dropped the magazine from the well, letting it fall down to the dusty arena below. That was when his HUD began flashing intently. "What th-" He felt the impact in the side of his armor and he yelled out in pain as the Beskar plates were bent into his side.

Almost immediately after the pressure of the spear sank into his side, he felt an armor piercing round slam into his shoulder.

Haastal was forced to drop his rifle, letting it fall down to the arena without chance of being recovered this moment. He could hear the woman call out to him and he cursed out in Mandoa. "Oritsir Shabuir!" He yelled out. His reflexes were fast and immediately he wrapped his hand around the spear, keeping a hold of the weapon just below the blade. "Burn!" He yelled out. Haastal's left arm swung around, a soft click erupting as his HUD recognized his voice command. A small silhouette protruded from the gauntlet, offering a brief spark before a torrent of flames flew from the man's gauntlet.

He kept an iron grip on the woman's spear, even as Ra Vizsla appeared behind her. She'd release the spear or burn alive. However, Haastal didn't wait to see which option the woman chose. As he saw Muad Dib slip under him, he quickly released the spear the woman had assaulted him with, flying up from the fray and narrowly dodging Muad's attempt to slice at him. ​

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[Aya Clarke]

Aya's body almost crashed into Haastal Haran alongside her spear, if her grip had been any lesser it would have been a certainty. Use of her repulsor packs was not something she frequently practiced, though evidently the lessons on spear use were serving her well. Unlike her first few engagements in this tournament, her first strike found itself impacting hard, though she wasn't sure if she had pierced skin or not. At the least, his yells gave away the effectiveness of her strike, which managed to curl the very corner of her lip into a smile. That faintest of smiles faded, quite quickly, from what was to come however. He shouted 'burn' at her, and she didn't need to be an expert to know what came next.

Sparks came to life, and she immediately dropped her spear, retreating back as she frantically tried to get rid of the accursed red flames licking at her fabrics. It was genuinely, truly, all she could do to avoid screaming bloody murder at them, patting herself and smacking the flames until they weren't going to be an issue for her. The spear was clattering to the ground as she realized in her panic she had actively backed up into Ra Vizsla , who made his own fair attempt at a... sort of apology. That of course included a hand that snaked out, grabbing her by the throat and actively lifting her up off the ground. She'd only managed to turn around before this, and was unable to resist the man in time.

Despite that, there was a boon to her, he'd taken her mind off of the flames that had brought her to panic moments ago. Freeing her to glare at him, one hand going for the hilt at her side, wrapping around it as she managed to choke out a few words. "Wait in fething line for your turn." Knowing she had to get out of this grip soon as possible, Aya stretched her left hand out, palm facing Ra's visor. In a surge of power, with only the hum of machines to give it away, the repulsors in her hand activated to blast against Ra's head, with any luck forcing him to let go.

At the same time she drew her lightsaber, hilt clicking free of its scabbard and the blue blade igniting. If she was still being held, it would be done in a motion so as to strike at Ra, and if he'd let go it would be leveled between them. For the time being Muad Dib was just a thought in her mind, a man who's position she kept track of, but was not interested in engaging. Ra was a threat, and Verd was a coward at range. Greater priorities.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Ra could feel the heat of Muad Dib throwing insults in his subconscious filler material, but he paid it no bother. His previous incarnation had very notably slapped the man around for the better part of an entire Council meeting, so anger was expected in all of it's forms - it was a Mand'oade's lifeblood, after all. What else did they have if not their love of weapons and the anger to put them to use? Never mind.

Aya Clarke lifted off the ground, gripped in his crimson gauntlet. It seemed, for a moment amid the chaos that had quickly ensued, that Ra had the upper hand on all the combatants. It had always been easy to pit multiple enemies against each other - it was how the Undying had originally become Mand'alor in the first place, the first time. He was masterful at the art.

Except... he wasn't Ra.

An explosion rattled point blank against his helmet. Well, it felt like an explosion. It was a blast from the woman's repulsors, but it wasn't quite fit into his strategy at the time - that, nor the fact that his helmet would come flying off, revealing a black hooded head of a man who very much did not look like Ra Vizsla at all.

It was the eyes. Ra Vizsla always had piercing green eyes.

This man had deep, dark, brown eyes with a chocolate glazened skin-tone - though it was hard to tell, with his hood still on. It wasn't widely known that Ra had been a Gurlanin shapeshifter, so the stark contrast of anyone in the immediate vicinity that had been accustomed to Ra would know this man: definitely not him.

Holding his head, the Undying roared and threw Aya to the ground away, running to pick his helmet up and away from Haastal Haran 's flames.

 

[Muad Dib]

Ra's helm came off, spinning in slow motion as it arced through the air slowed in the moment of battle. This meant Ra the Undying was exposed. Muad turned from his upward thrust that fell short of Haastal as his eyes widened, first in surprise and then in frustration. His whole purpose in joining the tournament was to place himself conveniently near the gurlanin. And yet the visage he looked upon was an imposter. There would be no vengeance for Kentarch this day.

With a snarl of rage he returned his eyes upwards to where Haastral moved out of reach of his beskad. Behind him he would leave Aya to dispatch the craven’s imposter. Muad had another debt to pay in the ache of his body from the previous shots.

His knees bent slightly as he thrust up, leaping straight as the thrusters in his boots activated launching him up into the sky to give chase to the Verd warrior, in which the very wording amused the madman by the mirror words, while Muad brandished the beskad forward in the tip of his charge aimed for Verd.

The wisdom of turning his back to, not one but, two opponents lingered in the rear of his mind. Yet what knowledge he possessed of Aya spoke of honorable combat. As for Ra the Imposter, he prayed to the manda the woman would not leave him long in this life.

Haastal Haran Aya Clarke Ra Vizsla

 

[Haastal Haran]

Fight​

Tags: Muad Dib Ra Vizsla Aya Clarke ​

The Mandalorian had taken to the skies in an attempt to escape Muad Dib attack, yet when he glanced down he could see the man giving chase. Haastal had to admit, he was a persistent bastard. The only problem was this persistent bastard was pressing an advantage he had. Haastal had intended on maintaining ranged superiority during this duel, so he'd only brought a simple Kal Dagger and vibroknife to stand up in a melee confrontation. His first mistake. When Muad brandished the shining blade of his Beskad forward as the two soared through the air, Haastal's hand fell to the dagger on his waist. It was a single fluid motion. In drawing his dagger he slapped Muad's Beskad away, the song of Mandalorian Iron ringing out in a distinct echo through the arena.

His jets faded, bringing him back down towards the ground, having gone through the height of his arch.

As Haastal came down, his hand went to the vibroknife set against his thigh plate. He quickly drew the blade, holding it in a reverse-grip while still brandishing his Kal in his right hand. He kept the Hexagonal blade extended out ahead of the shimmering vibroknife, his eyes locked on Muad as the man descended. Just before Muad could settle back onto the ground, Haastal lept out, his jets firing once again as he attempted to barrel into Muad. He'd use his Kal dagger to intercept the blade of the Beskad, all while angling the tip of his vibroblade so it could slam into the base of Muad's shoulder.

"Come on!" He exclaimed.
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[Aya Clarke]

Aya hit the ground, hard, but her weapon had been sucessfully ignited the moment that Ra Vizsla had let her go. Air rushed into her lungs, and she let out a few pained, half choked coughs before her senses were beginning to come back in full. The chaos provided by the others satisfied the crowds and their insatiable bloodlust, while the seemingly panicked Ra, or not-Ra, went to retrieve his helmet from the ground where it had been sent flying. Her contacts continued to provide the full AR-HUD, letting her see with surprising clarity as she darted her eyes from combatant to combatant, quickly planning her next move.

She had wanted to be released to engage Haastal Haran again, but the man had chosen to get entangled with knives against their third contestant. She had a suspicion that Dib would be able to handle himself, and if not then the ranged fighter would retrieve his weapons and continue to just shoot at them from afar. That made him high priority, but having felt the 'Ra' grip personally, she knew he too was high priority on his potential power alone. Both had to be removed from combat before she could have a proper swordsman's duel for once, and that meant she had to show little in the form of a merciful reprieve.

She sent off a 'push' from her gauntlets at Verd as she ran away from him and Muad Dib , hoping to send him off balance on his assault and give Dib an edge so as to finish this quickly. Leaving the rest to him, she made her intercept course to catch Ra at his helmet, running right at his back. When she was close she used the repulsor pack to strafe around his side quickly, landing on the other side of him as he reached the head gear. "En Guarde." She gave him just enough time to put his helmet on, perhaps enough to ready a weapon, before she all but leapt into action moving her blue bladed lightsaber into a high guard before making a strike at Ra's neck. She had to be swift, and with mighty force she had spent her life cultivating.

She could only hope that it worked.