The Games (IG-RO) - Fremoc, Mirado, Halcyon
“The stadium was packed full, brimming with eager, blood-thirsty fans. Antei’s newly refurbished Coliseum bristled with raw emotion. The Independence Games were underway and the audience wanted to see carnage. They wanted to see death. Most of all, they wanted to see victory.
Three combatants entered the arena from the ground-level entrances from different directions. Before them lay the great expanse of the sandy field of battle; already littered with stains of the defeated and departed. Broken weapons, and various traps and obstacles dotted the terrain. The three took their first steps into the Arena; the crash of heavy gates overtook them as their means of escaped vanished. Clad only in minimal leather armor, they would find ancient weapons scattered about the field. Three entered. Only one would leave.
Standing from his ornate throne in the special suite reserved for the Dark Lord alone, the Lion of Tarthos raised his hands signaling for the crowd to grow quite. With a powerful and steady voice he announced, “Dark Citizens, I welcome you! Let the match commence!”
OOC: Each participant will have three posts, one in each round. A round is concluded when all three participants have posted. You will have assigned posting orders in each round listed below
Fremoc will post first in Round 1, second in Round 2, and third in Round 3.
Mirado will post second in Round 1, third in Round 2, and first in Round 3.
Halcyon will post third in Round 1, first in Round 2, and second in Round 3.
Each participant has 24hrs to post or they forfeit that round and lose all participation points for this event, though they will still score in Grammar and Contribution categories. Participants may post the moment the person before them fails to post in time. All edits must be made before the next post is up and cannot be made once they are.
The First round begins with Fremoc. Good luck.
Fremoc chuckled as he stood near the center as the two other combatants neared. He had disregarded the leather armor, and was dressed simply in a blank sleeveless shirt, pants, and boots. His normal weapons, boots and gloves remained in a secured locker. He felt oddly naked with out the normal equipment, especially when it was his lightsaber or the emerald dagger that he was awarded. On the walk out he scanned the room for weapons that he was proficient with. Some alien and unknown to him, but others he could use.
He glanced at his cousin, who had taken the leather armor, chuckled as well. They looked at each other before looking at the Deputy Grand Master. The man had also disregarded the leather armor, like Fremoc, and donned in a green shirt, black pants with green trim, and black boots.
Alone Fremoc stood no chance, but with Mirado, they could possibly turn the tides against Halcyon. Fremoc pushed into the mind of his cousin, which was easy considering they were family, and spoke loudly into the younger man's mind. We can beat him, and then fight amongst ourselves. Mirado only nodded in agreement as the two locked their gazes with the Sith Lord. Attack now, Mirado.
Without a word of confirmation, the younger L'eonheart brother rushed the Deputy as Fremoc found an ancient slugthrower lying on the ground and dove for it. The distraction worked and the Son of Taldrya threw the Disciple of Sadow backwards. The Fist of the Brotherhood snatched the slugthrower mid-dive and rolled to one knee to finish the maneuver. He leveled the sights on the Deputy Grand Master, and pulled the trigger.
With a scissor side flip, Mirado struck out for the green haired Sith Lord, cutting through the air sideways like a thrown saber blade. Mid-air, he heard the hiss of slugs flying under him moments before the report from Fremoc’s slug thrower met his ears. Halcyon threw his hands up in reflex, and the slugs struck in the air, flattening to pancakes, all before the Miralukan Knight hit the ground.
The moment he did, he continued his momentum from his rotation, dropping himself down to a Krayt’s tail foot sweep. Distracted from being shot at and bringing up a barrier, the tripping attack caught Halcyon squarely in the back of the ankles, bringing him squarely onto his back.
Still not stopping his movement, Mirado came up, pushing himself into the air a short distance on his pivot leg, while the leg he used to sweep with came straight up in front of his face, foot towards the air. Halcyon kipped up far quicker than Mirado had planned for, however, causing his guillotine axe kick to whiff, catching no more than a centimeter of verdant ponytail.
Fremoc hadn’t been idle in those seconds. He’d dashed at a speed owed to the Force towards piles of weapons, and managed to find an old sword. He tossed it over his shoulder and turned to fire again. With a calm, steady hand he put the front sight picture into focus, compensated for movement, and squeezed the trigger.
Another shot rang out, though one didn’t survive to the position Halc was in without being shot at a time or two, and with the Force as an ally, well, dodging bullets became feasible. With a startling grace he twisted at the waist, then slammed Fremoc with a hard telekinetic strike, which brought the Prelate to his knees. Behind him, the Miraluka was getting up from his hard landing, something the right hand of the Grand Master simply could not have, so Halc, still tense from his dodge, expelled the stored energy by uncoiling a spinning knee strike, hard into the side of Mirado’s head.
With both foes on the dirt, he took the time to play to the crowd, raising his hands to encourage their cheers. After all, they needed to know that their future was in the hands of warriors like himself, and with their bloodlust, the Dark Side grew stronger.
“Mirado!” Fremoc said in his cousin’s head, knowing the Force weak knight wasn’t likely to answer back. Laying in a heap behind Halcyon, Mirado lifted his head lazily, blood trickling slowly from the corner of his mouth. To punctuate the point, the Miraluka spat half of a molar out of his mouth.
Knowing he had his cousin’s attention, Fremoc stood up, and with a yell, tossed the sword he’d recovered, and followed it with a pair of the Force Blasts that the disciples of Sadow were all too known for. Of course, he also got Halcyon’s attention, and watched as he twisted away from the flying blade in addition to batting one of the Force Blasts away with a casual backhanded slap.
Which was the Fist’s plan all along. Mirado reached up, snatched the sword by the handle, and scissor kicked his legs out in a spin bringing himself to his feet. He held the sword with both hands out horizontally before him, the flat of the blade facing, and turned his head as the Force Blast struck the already damaged blade, breaking it almost halfway up the blade.
Without thought, Mirado lashed out, now armed, after a fashion, with his preferred weapon. Startled, Halcyon watched the Miraluka rake a jagged cut across his thighs, carrying droplets of blood on the broken blade until the apex of the wide swing, where they flew across the arena to land in the dust.
Missed the first 24 hour post window. Will make my second post (first post of Round 2) within the next 24 hours...I hope. Apologies for having missed my first post
Halcyon unleashed a torrent of dark energy at the L'eonheart, throwing him all the way into the arena's wall, and knocking the wind out of him. The Sith Lord found another ancient pistol on the arena floor and willed it towards himself as he stared down the Fist of the Brotherhood. The pistol came up and its barrel aimed straight at Fremoc. His eyes widened just before the Deputy Grand Master depressed the trigger.
Fremoc moved, hearing the sizzle of the slugs rush past him, one nicking his left bicep. The Prelate returned fire with his own pistol, racing to his cousin as he fired. Mirado in a heap on the ground had been unconscious from hitting the arena wall, stirred as his cousin ran past, grabbing him with one hand and threw him over his shoulder.
"What I miss?" coughed Mirado.
"I think we made him angry," said Fremoc as more slugs sizzled around them.
Mirado shook the cobwebs out of his head as Fremoc ran. The Miraluka knew his weight wasn’t helping his cousin any, so he took one good deep breath, patted Fremoc on the shoulder as a warning, and slid off the back of his shoulders.
“Yeah, he’s mad.” Mirado commented as he rolled away from another volley of Dark Force Energy.
“Like poking’ a gundark with a stick I think.” Fremoc replied as he ducked behind a debris pile. Mirado followed him, and for a very short moment, they rooted about for things. Fremoc, seconds later, had a kukri styled blade in his hand, while Mirado held a blaster.
“Trade!” They said in unison, and quickly swapped weapons. The moment Fremoc got his hands on the blaster carbine though, something felt wrong. He had just enough time to realize Mirado had flicked the e-clip release before his cousin raked the edge of his kukri against the Prelate’s own inner forearm, laying his arm wide open, and following it with a a very low dropkick which knocked Fremoc out into Halc’s line of sight.
“Sorry cuz, you would’ve done it to me.”
“Frack you, I probably would have.” Fremoc said as Mirado tossed him the e-clip and rolled away to put the debris pile between both of his opponents.