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
The two duelists find themselves in a massive hangar, the Main Hangar to be exact. Instead of a Lambda-class Shuttle, TIE Interceptors and TIE/D Defenders hang on racks, and boxes are moved about on turbolifts and repulsor carts. The smell of mechanical fluids linger in the air, and through the view port one can see the blackness of space drifting by.
Combatants, should you have any questions, your assigned judges are Chronicler Willie and Ishmael . Good luck, and may the best duelist win!
The sterile sound of an Imperial Hangar was extremely distinct. The rank and file movements of highly trained, uniform Stormtroopers echoed in such perfect synchrony that the silence between each step could be audibly measured. It was a level of discipline the rest of the Galaxy could only hope to aspire to, and most never came close. That was what set the Mando'ade apart from the rest of the Galaxy, and what brought the Empire calling to Mandalore.
Ardasz stepped out into the hangar Bay with his EE-3 resting comfortably across his lower torso. His finger was not on the trigger, but could find it with less than a moment's notice. He stayed tuned to the prisoner's breathing, listening for even a slight change. His HUD could pick up minutia like that, and he often knew seconds before a threat became a threat. Men were a lot like animals when cornered. All instinct, no brains. Mandos hunted animals from the time they were children.
Escort jobs were just like breathing.
"To the shuttle," he croaked in a mechanical monotone. He stayed behind the man by two paces, and he could automate the shock cuffs with a single blink of his eye. He'd already demonstrated once. "No tricks."
Andor's black cloak bellowed behind him, the red accents matching the crimson in the Sith Lord's eyes. Swiftly, he made his way down one of the numerous hallways of the Star Destroyer, in search of the Mandalorian who was in charge of escorting prisoners to what he only assumed was Mandalore. And Andor knew he wouldn't let that happen. His jaw was clenched, his hands were closed into tight fists. He wasn't happy with the Mandalorians. In fact, he was infuriated.
The Mandalorians had formed an agreement with the Empire, some sort of partnership, and that created a threat to the Order of Ruin that Andor could not ignore. Now, having taken the mission himself instead of sending one of his Lesser Sith to break the alliance, he found himself here, seeking out the one they called Ardasz.
The doors to the hangar hissed open and Andor strode through, eyeing the line of prisoners and the unmistakable warrior of Mandalore, clad in his traditional 'gam. He began to close in the distance, moving across the hangar floor, his focus on nothing but the Mandalorian. His boots clicked on the hard floor, and his left arm reached down to unclip the black lightsaber hilt from his right hip, "Those prisoners belong to me."
The extraction had been fluid enough, almost too easy in fact. All of the exchanges went off without a hitch, and he had been able to come all this way without a single security stop. For someone to come calling for the prisoners now, after all of that work, meant problems.
Ardasz hated problems. He bumped the stock of his EE-3 into the back of the man he was leading and spoke. "Quick," he commanded, "find cover. I can't protect you and fight him at the same time."
The loss was negligible to these Sith, but to the Protectors, every able body working the fields was necessary to keep the Mandalorian way of life intact. That was why he raised his weapon as he turned, one single motion, and fired three shots diagonally. Low, middle, high.
As he did, he strafed sideways and away from the man who leapt for cover behind some cargo containers strewn about the Hangar Bay. Ideally, Ardasz could find a few of those for himself- but the Force Adept hadn't ignited his weapon just yet.
One or two of those shots might disorient the Sith Lord.
"Come and take them, chakaar." He didn't need to engage in long winded conversation with the man. He'd let his weapons do all the talking.
The Force swirled around the Sith and Andor's lightsaber ignited at the same moment the Mandalorian's stock touched the prisoner's back and spoke about finding cover. But with the ghostfire crystal installed in the black hilt, there was no snap-hiss, but only silence as the translucent blade sprang to life. There was no iconic hum of the blade, but only silence. Ardasz spun, and Andor was ready.
His blade was in front of him in a one handed grip, angled slightly forward. The first shot came in low, and with a clockwise rotation of his wrist, Andor brought the blade down to intercept the low shot, sending it searing into the back of the fleeing prisoner. Next, his blade came back up to a horizontal position before blocking the next two shots with expert precisions, both bolts aimed in the strafing Mandalorian's path, hoping to strike him while he was on the move.
At the same time, Andor's right hand, which was hanging at his side, clenched into a fist. The Force channeled through it, causing his skin to erupt with small bumps and for the hair on his neck to stand straight as it seeked to crush Ardasz's right ankle. He continued to move forward, slowly eating away at the distance between himself and his prey.
Three meters to cover, and the Sith already had his weapon ready. Ah, well. The first bolt was slapped away, and Ardasz tucked his left leg at the knee. He went sliding as his weight brought him low much faster with Beskar'gam, but it halted his momentum effectively. He came to an abrupt halt with his weapon trained on the Sith Lord, who now seemed to move with certainty since he had protected himself.
The second and third shots went high, over his head now that he was grounded. That was when he felt the pressure. Unseen energies moved upon his ankle, seeking to strain it, to jar it out of place. The Mandalorian brought his weapon to bear at the Sith's face, and flipped to the three round burst setting as he squeezed the trigger. If he wanted his face to stay pretty, he was going to have to choose between that or Ardasz's ankle.
In all of that, the Mandalorian had given up on the prospect of shelter, instead waiting for the Sith Lord to close the gap. He had a different tactic in mind for dealing with this problem.
As Ardasz fell to his knee, there was brief moment where the gunfire ceased as the mandalorian flicked his rifle to the three-round burst and trained the barrel on Andor's face. The beskar armor undoubtedly slowed him down, and Andor was fast to begin with. For decades under Phantom, Andor had been forced to run his training regimes while having his arms and legs tethered to chains weighted down with heavy metal balls. His senses had been honed to process even the smallest of moments so he could react swiftly and lethally. And finally, when the ball and chains came off, Andor was one of the fastest warriors of his time, even without the aid of the Force. And a simple, outdated carbine rifle wasn't going to stop the Lord of Ruin.
Andor's blade remained in front of him from the previous round of gunfire, and when the three-round bursts erupted from the carbine rifle, Andor was ready. His left arm was a flash, sending the first round of three bolts searing into the ceiling, sending down a shower of sparks as plasma hit metal. The impact of the bolts on his single handed grip (even with the strength of his prothetic arm) was enough to cause Andor to step back, retreating further as the second burst came in. By the second round, Andor's right hand came up to hold his hilt in a two-handed grip, therefore abandoning the force crush. With expert precision, and more control over his blade, Andor angled the blade so that the incoming bolts were sent in Ardasz's direction, striking directly at his midsection. Dark energies scratched and clawed at Andor's insides. The monster beneath roaring to be let loose, pulling at the bars of its cage. But there would be a better time.... Just not now. Another step back as Andor ducked beneath the third round of bolts, letting the searing lights of plasma shoot just above his head.
Now standing nearly twenty feet away from his kneeling opponent, Andor's body was tense, waiting for the next move.
Ardasz rose slowly to his feet as the Sith gave ground. The deflected bolts intended for his midsection made their mark- straight into Beskar plate. The impact was almost negligible other than a set of dull thuds and a grunt from the Mandalorian as he kept his weapon trained on Andor.
These Forcie types always did the same thing. Send back blasts of energy like it was a gift from God. That was why Mando'ade wore armor. It gave them a more level playing field. He flicked the trigger one last time, sending three more bolts center mass toward Andor-
And in the next moment, he made a more subtle movement. There was a click, his weapon dropped to the ground, and he was moving straight toward his opponent. He relied entirely on his HUD now, watching the blasts arc toward the Sith as he prepared for what came next...
As Ardasz slowly rose, taking the three bolts to the chest, at about the same time Andor had ducked beneath the final volley. Now, as Ardasz fired his final volley, Andor spread his arms wide, reaching out to crush Ardasz's windpipe. The first bolt hit Andor in the right pectoral, the energy dissipating against the norris root stained chest piece. Even still, a growl escaped Andor's mouth as his body tensed up, his left foot stepping backwards again as he took the full impact. Blinding hot pain shot through Andor's chest, and the Force that had been building augmented with power as the second bolt struck his left pectoral. The impacts were painful, but they were not nearly enough to break Andor's concentration.
The third bolt hit and by now, Ardasz's windpipe would surely be crushed.....
Now, Andor moved quickly, throwing his lightsaber like a tomahawk. Beskar was one of the most resistant metals in the galaxy, and it was widely known that it could easily defend against glancing blows from a lightsaber blade. But its one weakness was that it could be penetrated with a direct thrust. And so, the translucent blade went vertically spinning across the now fifteen feet between Andor and Ardasz, seeking to pierce the mandalorian's chest piece that had already been struck by the three blaster bolts.
It was not what he was expecting, but it worked out far better than he could have hoped. The first shot struck the Sith, and Ardasz could tell that the man had changed tactics. His arm moved swiftly, an underhand toss, and his HUD picked up the shift in his opponent's movement. I'll be damned.
The way he moved his arm, the obvious throwing motion-
He felt the strain on his throat, but his opponent hadn't factored for what came next. In the moments that it took for the lightsaber to leave Andor's hand, the ejected tibanna canister had closed the distance between them. The Mandalorian could feel his windpipe closing, his vision was blurring, and he was rattling toward death-
As the explosion ripped through the air, less than a meter from Andor. If he committed full on to Ardasz's demise, he would find himself consumed by the conflaguration.
Andor saw the Mandalorian's underhand throw, but it was too late to hold back his own lightsaber. The black hilt spun forward, the translucent blade nearly invisible in its spin of death, searing into the airborne battery pack. There was a flash of silent light, and Andor squeezed as hard as he could, practically feeling the man's windpipe cracking in his telekinetic grip.
First, there was fire. It expanded outwards in all directions and the Sith Lord stared it down, unflinching in the face of its destruction. The orange, red, and yellow flames washed over him, and at first, its energy was absorbed into the leggings, the sleeves, the chest plate, the boots, and the gloves of his armor, but even still, the energy from the explosion was too much. The black, padded armor burst into flames, as the flames licked greedily at Andor's face, burning away at the flesh on his exposed white face. He screamed as the pain ripped through him. But as it had always been, Andor welcomed the pain. Even as his face began to burn, the Lord of Ruin thrust all of his power into maintaining his concentration and fully committing himself to ending his opponent... No matter the cost. By now, he'd surely be dead.
Then, he was hit by the concussion wave, the impact catching him in his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs, and sending him backwards like a ragdoll. His right shoulder hit the ground first with a resulting crack, and his body rolled brutally across the hard ground, putting out some of the flames as he rolled. He came to a stop and his unscathed helmet clanged loudly against the floor. Andor laid still on his back, sprawled limply across the ground with his clothes smoldering, black wisps of smoke spiraling into the air. His breathing was harsh and shallow as he gasped desperately for breath, the entirety of his right face melted away to create a gruesome picture of an exposed cheek bone and stringy tendons and muscles working tirelessly as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his jaw in pain. His eyes were open, but he was dazed, the ceiling above him fuzzy, moving so quickly he couldn't focus... Even Two-Face was prettier....
Too dazed and broken to move, Andor simply laid there, his breathing resembling an unmechanized version of Lord Vader himself. If Bellum made it in time, there would still be a chance Andor could survive, although he'd be confined to a suit for the rest of his life as Vader had been after his fateful battle on Mustafar. But even Andor knew that was a stretch. He closed his eyes and began to hear the whisperings of Chaos crawling closer and closer....
Or so he would have screamed out, had his throat any air. Had he the capacity to take another breath, he might have charged forward into oblivion, fighting to the very last moment against the inevitable. But he was spent.
Blood flooded his mouth from below, and bone protruded through Beskar where his trachea erupted outward, broken. The Sith had taken his life, and yet, he stood, stone dead, in defiance.
His body shuddered as his final moments ebbed out of him, eyes fixated on the glorious pyre he had erected for them both. Were he a more religious man, he might have dedicated this battle to the Destroyer God of Old.
Alas, there was nothing else for Ardasz Verd, son of Ral Beviin, to do but pass on to the Manda. His deeds may have ended, but their memory would be scribed into the annuls of Mandalorian history. Such was their fate.
Wow guys, first tourney duel completed, and it went the distance! Excellent read, every bit what I expect from two top-tier fighters. Now, before we begin, you both know the drill....we have to go through things. By the by, Ishmael and I have come to this decision together, so we are united in our front. That being said, let's get to the judgment!
Andor-Your moves up until the end were pretty darn good. The only issues we saw were with how you took the final burst. You took damage/burns/etc, but without a face shield of some kind, you probably would have taken a bit more damage. Also, you had in your possession a thermal detonator, and in an explosion like that, the TD has a pretty darn good chance of going off due to the heat of the explosion. At the very least, the explosion would have broken line of sight on the crush, therefore changing the total outcome of the fight. Its a tough call to make there sometimes, but ultimately, the line of sight is the most important thing to keep. Without that, any direct grab/crush is broken.
Ardasz-While I can appreciate the short, direct nature of your posts, sometimes that can be detrimental. There were a couple times where I had to re-read the post several times to get what you were aiming at, especially when you threw the power pack from your weapon at Andor's saber. Granted, both combatants were understanding of the maneuver, but in the long run, its always better to make sure you clearly state who or what you are shooting at.
You BOTH fought a fantastic fight. Its been a good while since Ive seen a double KO in an arena duel like this, and even longer for two seasoned duelists to take it this far this quickly. You both put up an excellent effort. That being said, there has to be a winner. By unanimous decison, our fight winner is.......
ARDASZ VERD!
This was not an easy decision....believe me. It took a bit of discussion, not to mention a lot of thought on the matter, to decide this, it was that close. It was based in no small part on the line of sight issue mentioned earlier, and when you have to go that deep in a duel to find a winner? Its tight. Alas, in a tournament, there must be a winner. If you have any questions, comments, or input, please message myself or Ishmael on the Discord server. Good luck to both of you in the future, and I hope to see you both in the later rounds!!
