A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
Andor could feel his opponent weakening, wobbling on the edge of death. Andor watched with a smile on his face as his opponent struggled to control his body, Ishmael's frustration seeping into the air. Maybe the Lord of Corruption wasn't all that powerful after all. Sure he had dealt his fair share of blows to Andor's body in the fight, but in the end, he had not yet succeeded in killing the Lord of Deception.
Andor's body screamed at him to stop his use of the Force. Every muscle in his body burned, his vision threatening to go white at any moment. He could see it in the corners of his vision, slowly closing in around him as he staved off light-headedness. But he couldn't hold it anymore. He gasped for breath as relinquished his hold on Ishmael, pain shooting through his lungs. In all of its exhaustion, his body grew weak and Andor found himself unable to hold himself up. He fell backwards, as the Lord of Corruption cocked his arm and heaved his lightsaber in an underhand toss, the blade held horizontally. More so in an instinctual attempt to keep his balance, Andor's left arm flailed wildly in front of him, his prothetic arm threatening to swat aside the blade. The crimson blade seared into Andor's arm, slicing through the cortosis lacing, and severing his arm at the mid forearm, before being batted away to Andor's left. But before the blade could short out, the tip of Ishmael's blade streaked across Andor's falling body, leaving a deep cut across the top of his left pectoral to his left shoulder.
Andor's back crashed into the dirt, his body unconsciously tensing from the impact and the continuous, overwhelming pain that tore through his body with every breath, causing his thumb to depress the activation button on the detonator. Immediately, the number four on the display dropped to a three.
His arm moved across the dirt towards his feet and the direction of his approaching opponent, sending up a small whiff of dust as he rolled the thermal detonator along the ground toward's Ishmael's direction. Both combatants had three seconds to escape the six meter blast radius, but with both of their physical states being so deteriorated, escape was essentially inevitable. The Lord of Corruption had come to Dantooine to purge the galaxy of the weak, yet it appeared that Andor was not the only one meant to be cleansed. It would all be over soon, but Andor knew that their fight would only continue for eternity in the intricate depths of Chaos.
The moment my saber left my hand I felt Andor's energy suddenly dissipate. Simultaneously the lesser Sith careens backward, arms flailing as he collapses into the mud. Whether by chance or maneuver, that damnable synthetic arm of his blocks my blade, knocking it off to the side and shorting out the blade once again. I don't even bother tracking the hilt, or making a note of where it lands. It took Andor's arm with it, as well as leaving a deep gash along his chest, and so I don't think I'll need it to finish my task.
The pain in my chest is gone, along with the debilitating muscle spasms that had limited my movement. Though weak, feverish, and unarmed, I am free of his influence at last. With his current condition, finishing off the lesser Sith will be well within my ability to accomplish. Still, I had taken more damage through the course of our brief skirmish than I had wanted to, though thankfully none of it would have lasting effects or diminish my power in any way. All in all, it was a good test of my abilities, and an accurate baseline to measure my power level against. Had he been confronted by anything short of a god, I think the Lord of Deception would have fared far better- despite his defeat, he is powerful in his own right.
It's a shame he crossed paths with a Lapay.
I take a single step forward- the step I'd begun immediately after throwing my lightsaber- and halted once more, with my left foot forward, as a silver ball slowly rolled through the muck toward me, coming to rest a foot in front of me. The number three shone on its display in harsh, glaring red. I almost smiled at the sight of it.
Lord of Deception, indeed.
But either his stratagem or his execution was off: I had not been incapacitated to the point of being unable to defend against the thermal detonator, so either he had misjudged what it would take to slow me down, or had simply failed to properly implement his plan- if it was his initial design at all. This seems to be a desperate, last ditch effort, and a pretty good one at that. But ultimately: unsuccessful.
My left leg takes my weight, and my right sweeps out before me, catching the thermal detonator on the inside of my boot just as the timer drops to two. I'm weakened, and the after effects of Andor's plague have slowed me considerably, but it's not enough to stop me. I kicked the detonator off to my left, hard, sending it soaring into the ruins of the Jedi Academy.
The explosion was deafening, fire belching from the empty windows and spraying rubble in all directions. The concussion that followed whipped my robes and hair around me in a wild frenzy, but my gaze never left the fallen Sith in front of me. My breathing is labored, sweat mixing with the rain and streaming down my face, and yet I advance.
Inexorable, unstoppable, inevitable.
I find myself crouching over him, and my left hand shoots out to seize the collar of his robes in an underhanded grip. My right hand is raised, the platinum claws reflecting the flames consuming the ruins just meters from us. In that moment, kneeling in the mud with the rain falling from above and an inferno raging off to the side, I felt truly free for the first time in years. A wild smile twists my features.
And then, if Andor is unable to mount a defense, I reach out with my right hand and rip out his throat and his life force with one cruel motion.
This was it. The last stand. The beginning of the end.
Andor's hope fell as he watched the Lord of Corruption's foot collide with the small ball of death, sending it careening into the shadows of the Jedi Academy. He was half tempted to reach out with the Force and pull it back, but he had to save everything he had for what would be coming next.
Suddenly, the very ground shook and there was an explosion of light and flame. Chunks of concrete and duracrete fell from the already crumbling building, shooting outward and crashing into the wet ground. The concussive waves battered the Sith's body and the orange light of the flames reflected in his crimson eyes. That was it, Andor's last trick. There was nothing left up the Lord of Deception's sleeve. He had been bested and thus, would be cleansed from the Galaxy. Andor could not contest the will of the Force, and he knew his time had come.
He managed to pull himself into a sitting position, his legs sprawled in front of him. He watched as Ishmael approached, neither of them refusing to break eye contact. Andor would not give Ishmael the pleasure of hearing him plead for mercy. His eyes would show hatred and defiance, but deep down, defeat was undeniable. Andor's head pulsed with every breath he took, but he noticed that the pulsating was becoming weaker and weaker with each breath. Too bad there was no time left, no time left to stall. He desperately grabbed at the Force, the never-ending power that surrounded him. He could feel it entering his body, but there was no point. There was no time.
And then, a spark lit in the back of Andor's brain, as reality set in. There was one trick left up the Sith's sleeve, one thing that even Andor had almost forgotten about. His second lightsaber. Ishmael Centarus, Lapay no Tal, the Lord of Corruption was walking to his own demise, his arrogance and overconfidence blinding him. In fact, it was quite possible that it was the "Way of Lapay" that had kept Andor alive. If Ishmael had just used all of his power, Andor wouldn't have been able to muster an appropriate defense... Not in his current state, anyways. But no, Ishmael wanted to toy with Andor, using only the minimal power necessary to do the job.
Andor masked his emotions with the hardened discipline of a Sith Master as Ishmael squatted over him, his left hand shooting out to grip Andor by his collar. That was when Andor attacked, with the element of surprise as his ally.
With the small amount of energy he had mustered, Andor blurred as he was fueled by the Force, letting it manifest temporarily into Force Speed, his entire attack only taking a fraction of a second to execute. His left leg came straight up as Andor drove his knee into Ishmael's groin, seeking to drive it as far into his body as he could to temporarily incapacitate the Sith. Next, at the same moment, Andor's right arm shot forward, beneath Ishmael's extended left arm. The lightsaber in his sleeve, broken free from its strap and propelled by the forward momentum, slid into his hand. The grip was weak and pain shot through Andor's body as the bone in his wrist moved, stabilizing the emitter so that it pointed upwards at an angle. No sooner was the hilt in his hand when Andor's thumb hit the activation switch, the crimson blade shrieking forward, screaming forward to do justice as it seared to pierce Ishmael's skull below his chin and up through the brain.
My eyes widen as I feel the dark side swell around Andor. I thought that he'd drained himself completely, burning out his connection to the force like a fuse fed too much voltage. I had witnessed his collapse from utter exhaustion- what other reason would he cease his attack? No, he had been spent...but desperation can be a powerful thing, I suppose. He had grasped at the last vestiges of his power, and employed them as I soaked in my moment of victory, oblivious.
All this burns through my mind in a fraction of a second, and I reel backward.
It's too late.
The hard point of Andor's knee strikes my groin full force, sending a jolt through my entire body. Pain streaks through the appendage and coils in my gut, but it feels distant, disconnected. I am in shock, though I don't have the cognizance to recognize it as such at the moment. My left hand releases Andor's collar, and the crimson blade of his second, hidden lightsaber flares to life just inches before my eyes.
Unthinking, unknowing, I act on pure instinct. My left hand retracts, moving to grip Andor's wrist before he can move the blade and find his target. On the way, my hand passes through the crimson blade, removing my pinky at the base and my ring finger at the second knuckle.
I don't even notice.
Simultaneously my right hand flashes forward, claws aimed once again at his throat, where the struggle is causing his jugular vein to pulse invitingly.
If there had been time, Andor would have smiled as his knee drove into Ishmael's crotch, knowing that it would only render his opponent immobile in a matter of moments. It seemed the fight was still on, if Andor could get his opponent off of him.
Renewed with a second will to fight, as soon as Ishmael's grip on Andor's tunic was released, Andor fell backwards, letting his back roll onto the ground. As he fell backward, Ishmael's grabbed for the Lord of Deception's wrist, but Andor quickly retracted his arm (much like a fencer after initiating a thrust), bringing his elbow in and slicing the blade to his right in an attempt to sever Ishmael's hand.
Simultaneously, as Andor's back hit the ground, his legs came in, tucking in against his chest and coming between himself and Ishmael as his clawed hand came down to strike at Andor's throat. As his legs came in, The Lord of Corruption's hand dug into the outer side of Andor's left leg, just above the knee, but any pain that would be caused by the puncture wounds was temporarily unnoticed as Andor thrusted out with both of his legs, his feet darting forward in an attempt to hit Ishmael with a forceful kick in the middle of his chest, hoping to knock him backwards and to the ground.
Just keep surviving, the Sith wanted to think to himself. After all, it's what he was best at.
Alright folks, your friendly neighborhood Alkyholic has decided to take on this judgement, since it involves two of our very own judges and therefore, we want to demand excellence of them.
First off, Ishmael. You mention the Force Crush on multiple occasions before you ever loose it. We get it. You're building it up. It's possible to amass energy without being totally redundant and repetitive. Dueling has evolved a long way since describing every possible though and trying to write you opponent into a corner. Be creative and innovative.
On the whole, both of you were laborious in your description with regard to your actions, and not in the concise manner. Strive to tell your story without muddling in excess fat into the portions that are simple action. The more to the point you are, the easier it is to understand your intent, and the more you can play around with plot and setting.
You don't have to make every post ten paragraphs long, either. It's fine to just write the actions, too. Find what works for you.
Ishmael, with regard to first person- both you and Ryu do it- many times, the opinions of the character are distracting. Just something to consider. This one falls right in with "describing your character's thoughts." Is it really necessary to extrapolate on that in a post that, realistically, spans seconds in character?
I'll stop being so nitpicky and get to the important bit now, but be mindful of your content. Sometimes it looks good when you post it, but when you look back, you aren't so sure.
Ishmael took the Plague well, especially considering his opponent would have lost concentration for the power due to the breaks and immense pain he was suffering. Things considered, it was a fair trade, and worked in his favor.
Unfortunately, Andor, that's where it gets a bit unbelievable. If you'd let the Plague go and the effects slowly worsened over time because he was already affected, that would have been one thing- but Plague, unlike simpler powers, would require a great deal of focus to maintain. With multiple breaks and the damage that would accompany them, it's nothing short of remarkable that Andor was able to remain standing, let alone cognizant enough to utilize the Force as intricately as to induce a seizure, or anything that specific. Limit yourself to things like crush or combustion in those scenarios- snap, spur of the moment, emotionally fueled powers that require very little thought to perform. A Sith's power is born from his emotions. Just a thought.
The finesse of his lightsaber combat also down played his wounds.
In all, I think you fell into the trap of win-at-all-costs, because despite the damage And or took and the fact that you mentioned fatigue multiple times, it did not actually appear to be a factor.
This match goes to Ishmael, not because of the aforementioned reasoning, but because he maintained control of the fight, grievously wounded his opponent, and in my eyes, soundly beat Andor.
Best of luck in the future, Andor! Congratulations, Ishmael!