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
As if summoned by my musings, a figure appeared on the opposite side of the clearing. A muscular, hulking figure dressed in tattered black clothes, he had the dark skin and ease of movement that suggested a warrior. Despite the robes, I don't think he's a Forceful (I can't be sure, though; as I mentioned, I'm determined not to use the force myself, so for now this is just a hunch).
This notion is reinforced when he bends down to retrieve a long metal rod from the scattered junk. What is it? Conduit? Rebar? I can't be sure at this distance, so let's change that shall we? I resume my trek toward him at a steady pace, only stopping when the distance between us had shrunk to a meager twelve feet or so. My hands remained down at my sides, platinum cuticle implants glinting dangerously.
"Su'cuy," I call out, wondering if my hunch to the man's origins were correct, or if my Mando'a would be met with a blank stare. "You're in my way."
There was little chance of this ending without bloodshed, that much was obvious. If violence weren't the man's intention I never would have been confronted at all, I'm sure. But what is his goal? To beat a man to death with a metal bar in the middle of a junkyard? To rob a man carrying nothing but the robes on his back?
Either way his corpse will bear witness to my departure from this place.
A vibrosword projects from a nearby pile of rubble, about ten feet to my left. Aside from some obvious damage to the hilt, it seems to be fine- the edge looks razor sharp, anyway. I wonder why it has been discarded? Perhaps the vibration generator quit working, or perhaps it was simply no longer of any use to its former owner. Regardless, if this vagabond proves skillful wielding his metal bar, I may be forced to retrieve it.
The holocron began to glow with insidious light as I carelessly swept one hand over its surface. The pyramid emanated the dark side strongly- unsurprising, considering the corrupt knowledge that languished within the device- and I reached out with my mind, searching for the facet that would give way and unlock its secrets.
A holoprojection suddenly activated, displaying a wall of minuscule text, ascending rapidly. Most of it was useless; I've studied this holocron before, you see, back when I still served as the Inquisitorious for the Tarisian Empire. It's where I learned the bread and butter of my trade: creating leviathans, twisting the flesh of beasts and sentients alike to better suit my needs. But now I search for a process I only glanced over in the past. In that time of massive armies, when Sith Lords were as common as decicreds, there had been no need of it.
Now, in the wake of the Cataclysm, 'all hands on deck' had taken on a very different meaning.
"Ishmael Centaris, I presume?" Andor's voice was cold and thin, like a whisper in the night. "We meet at last."
With my face bathed in the light of the holoprojection, my frown would be all too obvious to an observer. I dislike being recognized by anyone, enemy or...ally. Anonymity has always suited me much better- I'm uninterested in forming bonds or relationships with Lesser Sith (the ones with no true understanding of the concept of power)- so this sudden arrival's use of my name is irritating to say the least.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," I say, voice loud and booming in comparison to the stranger's reedy whispering. "What is it?"
I watched Andor from within the ruins of the enclave for some time, amber eyes narrowed. His arrival had been expected, yet I hesitated to step out into the open. Not out of any sense of trepidation- no, I simply wish to savor the moment. Those few tense seconds when the hunt is complete and the battle is about to be joined are always saturated with adrenaline. It's a rare commodity for a being as old and weary as I.
But alas it is time to commit to the destruction of the Order of Ruin. Andor will be my first victim, separated from the herd of the Council and cut down. Abbadon will be next. Rousing myself, I stepped out from between the broken beams and shattered duracrete and into the cold mist and rain. Immediately I pull the dark side to me, nostrils flaring as it embraces my advances. I don't hesitate, pulling it close and forging it quickly- my will a hammer on hot, malleable steel- into a specific form: Force Crush. I don't strike just yet, though.
Instead my lightsaber finds its way into my right hand, the curved hilt resting in my palm with my index finger extended down its length. It's the only weapon I carry, but it will be more than enough to end the Lord of Deception.
-Snap/Hiss!-
Steam rises from the length of the crimson blade as the rain continued to fall.
"Don't you know it's dangerous to wander alone?" I ask, lips curling into a derisive smile.
Broken beams jut up from a collapsed building to the side. Glass and rubble litter the floors of the hallway. A steady rain plops down from the grey sky, unhurried fat drops of water slowly washing everything back to the dirt. Once, long ago, this place was a bastion of light in the galaxy. Now it is a gutted shell of it's former glory, the Jedi Enclave of Dantooine, a silent marker for the death of the Jedi.
Rules: -Battle Arena Standard -Top Ten Force Powers
I let out a slow, satisfied sigh as I took my first step into the archives of the academy. Shelves of holocrons stretched outward in long, neatly ordered rows. Interspersed between were tables piled with research materials and datapads, clearly abandoned when the academy's former tenants fled the planet. It had been a long time since my last visit to the library, yet it felt unchanged.
Hushed murmurings plied at me from every side as I sauntered down the first row of holocrons. Promises of powers, threats of pain unlike any the universe has known, temptations too good to be true; not a one of them succeeded in turning my head. The allure of the dark side was too great for me to ignore- I fell from the Light just like nearly all my brethren, after all- but nonetheless it could not be trusted. One moment of lapsed judgment, and it would consume you.
A lesson I'd seen many Sith fail to learn...but not the Lapay. Those who walked the path- myself, Ryu, Ken- had proven our worth time and again, and yet it was never enough. Decades I'd been on the path, and still my search for power continues. It would be wearying if not for the...exhilaration of it all.
Suddenly I stopped, my right hand snapping out to seize a holocron from the shelf. It pulsed with black pleasure as my fingers closed around it. I brought it close to read the inscription:
[/font][/b][/font][/ul]
Smiling, I swept dusty manuscripts and glittering holocrons alike from the surface of the nearest table, and took a seat.
My eyes scanned the surrounding filth dispassionately as I trekked through the global junkyard that was Raxus Prime, nose wrinkled in distaste. The smell alone was enough to bring tears to my eyes; the air felt thick and sticky against my skin, and I was half surprised I couldn't physically see the noxious fumes wafting from the mounds of rotting garbage.
My, but I lead a charmed life, do I not?
This suffering is necessary. I've been on the trail of a certain Sith manuscript for several months now- documents vital to building the armed forces of the Order of Ruin- and I think I've found its final resting place at last. By all accounts the manuscript had ended up aboard a certain smuggling vessel that was promptly shout out of the sky. The wreckage had been slated for salvage but for one reason or another had fallen through the cracks, and been towed to the junkyard world almost wholly intact. And so my search for the remains of the Shrieking Mynock must continue.
Idly I wonder if I will encounter any opposition to my efforts. If I do, it should be interesting. I've chosen to challenge myself in a new way, you see, to determine just how powerful I have become, and how much further I still have to go. I have eschewed my armament; my lightsaber, along with my energy-resistant robes, remains in my room on Korriban. In addition, I've promised myself I will not, under any circumstances, indulge in use of the force. Ever fearful of the crutch it could so easily become, I decided it would be better if I took a nice long break from the dark side.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.
I wrapped up my inner monologue and stepped into a sudden clearing among the trash, where the debris littering the ground was relatively scarce, but it had been mounded up into towering crags in a rough circle. Eyeing the tallest peak, I thought I could make out the rusted remains of a freighter. It was doubtful that it was the Mynock, but we must be thorough, methinks.
The thing about the new system is that in order to avoid ties, it would see people dip negatively point-wise if they carried a losing record.
Yes they can. That's the entire reason we're putting it to a vote- we know we have to let them go below zero to have a ranking system that makes sense, but we don't want to scare people off. If it gets too negative of a reaction we will have to go back to the drawing board.
Cathaoir Ordo vs. Ishmael Rules: No Force, No Armor, No Weapons (save what can be scrounged from the scenario)
Where:
Raxus Prime: Junkyard Clearing
The duelists find themselves lost in the planet world of Raxus Prime. The arena is a basic junkyard portion of the planet, surrounded by mountains of garbage on all sides. The opponents will fight in the middle of the four surrounding Garbage mounds, be creative in what you find and use here, duelists.[
Alright guys, I'll be judging this one for you. It was a short fight, but nonetheless I found a plethora of issues that I feel need to be addressed before I get around to declaring a victor. I'm going to go into as much detail as possible, both in an effort to offer constructive criticism, and also to explain how I came to the conclusion that I did.
Geir:
Therefore, repeated usage of the Force without obvious fatigue, or usage of multiple powers at once for more than two posts consecutive, will be considered Powergaming.
It seems like you ran into trouble from the very start, when Xeonon confronted you cloaked and fired a slugthrower round. With no preparation, no idea where the danger was coming from except a general direction, and offering very little detail, you were able to bring your hand up- after the round was fired, no less- and use the force to defend against the attack. This, in my opinion, was completely unrealistic and poorly described.
I'd also like to remind you that Force Sense is not considered a passive power in the GBA- if you're going to constantly use the force to hone in on a hidden person's exact location, it will start to take its toll just like if you were using TK or anything else. Your character is not omnipotent, and I would have liked to see more effort put into the way you write that in future duels.
In your very next post you once again use the force to determine Xeonon's location, and then use Telekinesis to bring some rubble down on top of him. The timing of your subsequent post cut seems very off to me, as well. In Xeonon's post he says a few choice words and then fires his wrist launcher. Then, in your post, you not only reply but have time to focus and determine his location, and then switch gears for Telekinesis, and bring the rubble down on top of him before he fires. Post cuts are not intended as a way to disregard your opponent's attack and launch your own; they're intended to seize a realistic opening left in their post- firing a blaster bolt at your opponent's face while they're in the middle of a monologue is perfectly acceptable, for instance- when the timing and mechanics of the move make sense. Definitely something to watch for in future duels, as the way you used it here was not at all legitimate.
I'm hesitant to accuse you of meta gaming when you next start using the force to speak, but I feel like if Xeo had not mentioned he was listening for the sound of your voice to track you down, you wouldn't have gone that route. Nonetheless Telepathy is still a force technique, and one that would have some drain on your reserves. If it had been used for the purpose of the story I would let it slide, but since in this case it was clearly used to gain a tactical advantage, I have to count it.
And then, finally, with only a single post in between your force usage and with no mention of fatigue whatsoever, you immediately locate Xeonon through the smoke and use Force Stasis on him, ending the fight.
I cannot emphasize enough how over the top your use of the force in this duel was. Force users are not gods, and in the GBA, just a few small moves is enough to leave even Masters with not much gas left in the tank. While I didn't see much in the way of mechanical errors other than the two major ones concerning the Deflected slug and the timing of your post cut, I cannot in good conscience give you the win. In the future you need to strongly, strongly walk back how much force you use in a duel, as well as rid yourself of the notion that your character is infallible. While you, the writer, might be able to plausibly get him out of situations using the knowledge you have as an author, you absolutely have to only use the knowledge your character would have IC.
I think that's all I have for you, but if you have any questions feel free to ask, and I look forward to seeing you come back improved in your next bout.
Xeonon
The only real complaint I have for you is that you failed to push the offensive when it could have made all the difference. Had you been more aggressive with your tactics and less willing to let your opponent off the hook, the fight very well might have turned out differently IC-wise.
However, I deeply respect the fact that, despite some questionable moves on your opponent's part, at no point in the fight did you let any OOC frustration seep into your posts, and you kept it above board in every move, apparently never tempted to 'fight fire with fire' so to speak.
That being said, for having no violations for the duration of the match, as well as for holding his own right up until the very end, I'm awarding the win to Xeonon. Thank you both for participating and I hope to see you both back soon.
As Adieumus' orange blade snapped to life and haphazardly swept into the path of my lightsaber, I reflected that the Jedi had become very much like a roach- no, not that kind- that refused to die. No matter how hard you tried to squash it, when you picked your boot up it would resume its scurrying. Pain, frustration, and a mounting rage set my teeth on edge- this had long ceased to be a duel. It was now an extermination, a chore that I wanted nothing more than to wash my hands of.
Negative emotion rose in me like acidic bile, and I used it to gather the last shreds of the dark side still available to me. The moment my lightsaber flew past the Jedi I seized it with Telekinesis, and, straining my force reserves to the absolute limit, brought the blade shrieking back to me- spinning horizontally and set to decapitate Adeiumus from behind as it came whirling back into my waiting grasp.
A roach can live for nine days without its head, Matango, but you can't.
