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The Assassin and the Knight; Battle Arena Championship - Round 3
Topic Started: Jan 11 2011, 08:20 AM (279 Views)
Darth Crucious
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Elite Sith Empire
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You may begin when ready[/align]
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Darik Kane
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The Prodigal Son
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Sarkhan Revain, it wasn't his name, at least not by birth; and yet it had become his name. He didn't even know if he had a birth name, and it wasn't as though he could ask anyone. His master had given him a name, more out of ceremony than anything, and yet no living being knew that name. Sarkhan, that was the name his master had used, which had been the name of his master, and so on and so forth tracing back centuries like some kind of ageless bogeyman. Settling back into the VR couch and relaxing he levered the helmet like contraption into place and took a few breaths to ensure he was totally calm. When he was certain that his mind and body were ready for the complicated process that would project him into the Virtual Arena, he began the start up sequence.

Competing in such a tournament seemed so very wrong. His master had once told him that the only ones who entered such tournaments were glory seekers, fools, or those that were desperate. So which was he? The fool no doubt. No other reason to suggest why he would have gotten so tangled up in the war between the remnants of the Galactic Alliance and Old Empire against the monumentally thick headed Sith. He had taken on entrance into this tournament at the suggestion of the very same contacts within the Alliance Remnant that had wanted to hire him. Aside from the small scale battle on Naboo, which was really only his opening strike, he had not seen battle for their side. Such, this tournament would showcase his skills to his employers, so that they might know just how they might employ him on the battlefield.

A flash of light, strange sounds, and a sequence of numbers later and he found himself on a floor of sand, the howling voices of thousands of sentients surrounding him as he looked out over a vast arena of red sand. So this was to be the stage eh? A sacred battleground watered in the blood, sweat, and tears of those who came before? Preposterous. It seemed almost an insult that this Virtual Battlefield was so caught up on clinging to the legends that surrounded the infamous Cauldron, and would seek to recreate it in their spectacle. Taking a moment to check his gear, he primed the dual laser cannon that sat mounted on the right gauntlet he wore, and checked the 3 razor sharp 10 inch battle claws. Satisfied, he engaged the portable melee shield on his left gauntlet, and tested the heft of the 18 inch diameter energy shield that flared to life. Yes, he could do well with this set up.

Letting the shield disengage he placed the final piece of equipment in place, covering his handsome face with a featureless mask of bright ultrachrome. Unlike other competitors who bothered with armor, he wore none, his torso and arms bare to the world, revealing taunt muscle. Should he land his strike, no armor in the world would save his opponents, therefore he needed no armor of his own. Satisfied, he awaited the appearance of his opponent, left hand on his hip, clawed right hand hanging loose at his side. His grey eyes narrowed behind the expressionless mask, dark hair hanging low and twisting slightly as the breeze played across his bare back. All in all he was completely at ease, completely relaxed, completely ready, and completely deadly in ways no normal fighter could ever understand. The perfect interlocking crystal lattice of natural ability, weapons, defense, and killing force technique.
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Aaron Kade
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The Empire in Exile
The Tournament of Champions, something that had sparked interest within several of Aaron's closest of friends. As such he didn't bother to refuse their request for him to enter the tournament, with his friends placing down large bets for him to win the whole thing. Now Aaron found himself on a rising platform, rising towards the heavens, nay to a victory in the name of the Empire. Smirking when he reached the arena he glanced about, locating his friends rather quickly, as he had been in their upper class suite of sorts earlier. But, it was then he noticed, and remembered the company of several different types of aliens and the poor scum from who knows where. Shaking his head with an expression of disgust he began pulling his Stun Gauntlets on tightly. Though agreeing to fight in the tournament he did not exactly agree with the fact that they refused the use of a lightsaber, yet offered lightsaber materials for winners, odd. Clenching his fists on and off he glanced into the distance, well his target didn't look like much, just an idiot who had a lack of armor, though...perhaps this was a means to distract others? Rotating his neck in circles he began loosening up, preparing for the fight properly. Stepping forward now he drew his Blastsword, his means of melee combat as well as a way to combat those who chose to use blasters. Though he had to agree he could have been better off just dual wielding two blaster pistols considering lightsabers were banned from the tournament. But, then again he needed a melee weapon as he doubted others would fight with their fists alone.

"Come now, let us end this quickly!" And with that he activated his Blastsword before giving it a quick slap to it's side, causing a single blaster shot to fly towards his target before he began closing the distance between them via Force Speed.
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Darik Kane
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The Prodigal Son
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When his opponent arrived and began doing exercises to 'loosen up', Darik only watched with amusement. This was a virtual simulation, and however much it may seem like the bodies that they were currently within were real, they were simply data harvested from the impulses of the minds currently hooked up and transmitted into this arena. Perhaps his opponent was a fool then, he did not know for sure. Or perhaps he was simply a creature of ritual habit, the armor of an Imperial Knight that he wore would suggest so. Though the weapon he carried was certainly exotic, the glowing tip and odd hand grip were familiar to Darik, who had trained with multiple edged weapons during the long 15 year apprentice to his master. An Adumari Blastsword, a curious weapon that sacrificed the thrusting tip for a rudimentary rigged blaster.

It was a strange weapon, one that would no doubt intimidate many. However, it was ultimately a hamstrung weapon, a fusion of blaster and sword, yet inferior to both. In removing the thrusting tip it lost the deadly piercing abilities of the sword, and in the odd positioning of the blaster emitter, it was less accurate and hard to aim than a traditional blaster. As the man gave the weapon a twist, the tell tale glowing emitter gave him the information he needed to know that the weapon had been fully charged. When it was fired, Darik simply reached out to the force, drawing in the blaster bolt with his defensive skills and absorbing that energy into himself, channeling it into his limbs to lend himself strength and speed with his Force Valor. As his opponent bore down on him like a charging Maalraa.

Using Force Speed would be a detriment at this range, though his application of Valor would give him both strength and speed in this case, he instead 'returned the favor' via his own gauntlet mounted dual blaster cannon, letting rip the distinctive chatter of the weapon once used to great effect by the B2 Super Battledroid of the Clone Wars. He let loose a quick three round burst aimed at center mass of his opponent's torso to discourage his opponent into revealing his own defenses, before setting his feet for the inevitable charge to close range. A Seyugi Dervish's hands were deadly weapons, and a single blow from Darik could crush the armor that adorned the man's chest like tissue paper, destroying the illusion of flesh behind it. However there was no reason to let this Knight know that. In fact, charging blindly towards him, the Knight seemed determined to accommodate his desire for victory by rushing headlong into death.

[ooc] Using Tutaminis to absorb blast sword's shot, and then Firing off 3 round burst from dual blaster cannon mounted on right guantlet at incoming opponent.[/ooc]
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Aaron Kade
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The Empire in Exile
Avoided, with Tutaminis from the looks of things. Still though he continued on forward, ending Force Speed once he heard blaster fire, though it ended with him leaping forward and high into the air. With his landing zone becoming a few meters away from his target. "A wrist mounted blaster how useful. And a Force-sensitive individual at that aye? Hmmm, you must agree that the banning of lightsabers is quite an annoyance?" Rising from his crouched position he began walking towards his opponent, who had still yet to speak, which shocked Aaron to as why he hadn't just done the same and stay quiet. Perhaps he was prodding his opponent for a weakness of sorts. Circling around his opponent he closed the distance before swinging a simple, yet effective strike similar to a Djem So strike. It would be after this strike that he would prepare himself for next using defense as his main weapon, though his finger once again found it's way at the sword's charge button.

ooc; short :[
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Darik Kane
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Darik cocked his head slightly at the man's unending banter. Oh, he knew that it was natural for a nervous man to babble, however this was simply too much. His narrowed eyes observed the man's stance as he landed, seeing the aggressive two handed grip reminiscent of Djem So, the most phsyically powerful of the 7 Jedi and Sith Lightsaber forms. Of course, in exchange for its brutal physical power, it threw away mobility and speed. Djem So emphasized powerful overhand strikes while stepping forward, driving the blade down with the full weight of the body. In doing so, it sacrificed mobility by relying on that forward step and stable stance, herein was the weakness of such an attack. Calmly he waited, guaging the strike before stepping inside the man's guard as the blade came down. A quick step to the side dodged the clumsy overhand strike, and put him in position to attack his opponent's now exposed flank.

With only a slight narrowing of the eyes he lashed out, twisting at the hips and aiming a swift kick to the outside of his opponent's knee using his shin, augmented with the power of the Force. Dervishes, such as Darik, made use of a rather unique fighting style that employed empty hand techniques strengthed by an ability they termed 'Force Smite'. Using this ability, a mass of force energy is built up and released upon impact, pulverizing the target. A trained practioner of such a fighting style could crumple armor like a sheet of flimsi with a single blow, all but destroying the body. In this case, what looked like a quick relatively light blow would destroy his opponent's knee. More importantly, the Seyugi Dervishes were thought to be extinct, their very existence covered up by the Republic following the Jedi's hunt that drove the Dervishes to the very brink of extinction.

This Imperial Knight would have no idea what dangers lurked in such close quarters combat. The fact that he had barged so quickly into combat hinted that their was some defense not yet revealed, not Tutaminis as it would be useless against a physical attack, but likely one of the rare forms of protection that incased a force user in a protective coccoon of force energy. If so, then the Knight was in for a dangerous surprise should he attempt to use it against Darik, who's Tutaminis would simply drain that barrier of energy away, cycling that energy to power Darik's own attacks. All he needed to do was get the Knight close enough to land a blow with fist or foot, or to put his battle claw to work, and this match would no doubt be his. He was the worst possible opponent for any Jedi, Sith, or Imperial Knight as the abilities he used in these mock battles were the same abilities that the Seyugi had perfected to take down the Jedi and their two offshoots over centuries of careful study.

"You talk too much. Less chatter, more fighting." Was all he said.

[ooc]Side step to the left to avoid overhand slash followed by Force Smite powered Te Kot kick to the outer right knee of Aaron.[/ooc]
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Darik Kane
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The Prodigal Son
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[ooc]Using the 72 hour No Reply Rule from the board Rules and Guidelines to keep the battle moving. No idea why Bast has no posted here, as he has been around the C-box and board quite a few times.

IF THE DEFENDER HASN'T REPLIED WITHIN THREE DAYS WITHOUT A VALID REASON AND NOTICE, THEY ARE LEFT AT THEIR OPPONENT'S MERCY (Try to avoid death blows, as for all we know this person may have temporarily lost internet).[/ooc]


He allowed the barest smile when he heard the sound of tearing cartilage. Thanks to his Force Smite, a technique developed specifically for hand to hand combat, even a glancing blow to the knee could destroy the joint. With the .82 second delay to allow for the sudden impact of pain on the brain, he timed his attack carefully. Most defenders would have time to put up a defense in the brief time between the blow, and the sudden spike of pain that would temporarily overwhelm their senses. So, he had to wait that crucial .82 of a second before launching his next attack to ensure that the sudden spike of massive pain from the destroyed joint would lower any defenses that the Knight might attempt to use.

Bringing his kicking leg back was the perfect means to judge the relatively short amount of time, before he launched a quick punch into the side of his opponent with his right arm, aiming to drive his claws up under the arm where the side armor was weakest. With mobility roughly nonexistent thanks to a wrecked knee, and the overwhelming pain of that massive bone and cartilage damage to the knee, he figured that his opponent might be about all out of tricks by this point. He let his smile fade, not willing to get over confident now. Deconstructing a man had a certain art form about it, and Darik was a true artist when it came to the language of pain, yet even he was not completely infallible.
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Jacen Galax
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The Sith Empire
ooc; yeah sorry, got a lil' caught up and was trying to get muse.



A scream of pain found it's way through his mind as he felt the nonexistent paint tearing through his limb. And despite being a defensive fighter in melee combat for the most part, he found himself in too much pain to properly defend himself before he felt more nonexistent pain as a pair of claws pierced through the side of his armor and into his body. Coughing up a bit of blood almost instantly he tried to figure out what was wounded. His knee was out of commission that was for sure, and from the ghost pain and heaviness he felt in his chest he figured a lung or both were pierced, which could only mean he had at least a ninety-nine percent shot at losing this round.

But, alas now he found himself with his opponent stuck, at least slightly from the looks of things. And with his Blastsword prepared before hand he could only slightly laugh as he took his free hand and attempted to grab his opponent's wrist before taking his other hand, which held his Blastsword, and thrust it towards the man's stomach in hopes of putting a charred hole in his gut to even the odds a little. And if it did work he figured he had a mere few minutes if anything to try and win the fight, as he had been dealt grievous blows by being careless, something he would deal with outside of digital fighting. And oh how his friends must be yelling at the top of their lungs, as if a Krayt dragon was breathing down their backs, though within reality it was just the hopes of winning double their money pouring down the drain, and Aaron felt responsible.
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Darik Kane
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Continuing his step, Darik pivoted on his lead foot as he stepped from the Knight's side to behind the man. With his claw sunk to the knuckle in his torso, he had the perfect 'anchor' to keep the man on his toes. With that thought in mind, he twisted his wrist cruely, letting the 10 inch trio of blades slice deeper into flesh in what he was almost certain would be nauseatingly close to the threshold to take a man out in shock. As the Knight's hand came to close on his wrist he frowned. So... the Knight wanted to play some more? Very well then.

As the Knight levered his weapon Darik flexed his wrist, the muscles beneath his wrist triggering the auto-blaster that was mounted flush with the claw on his right gauntlet. With a crackle of red fire, the blaster began to fire, as he aimed to turn the man's chest into a splintered wreck. Simultaneously he brought his left arm around the Knight's throat, squeezing his neck like a vice between bicep and forearm as he concentrated on what was called a 'blood choke'. When attempting to take out a man there were two similiar methods. The 'air choke' which was essentially cutting off a airflow, and could take up to a minute or two. Or the "Blood Choke" which in this case, used the pressure of his grip to cut off the flow of blood through the carotid arteries.

When compared, the blood choke, which deprived the brain itself of vital blood and with it oxygen, was much more effective. While it may take a minute or two to render a man unconcious by simply cutting off his air, using this technique would take a man down and out of the fight in mere seconds. As the strange blastsword was pulled around to try to reach him, Darik twisted his own hips hard to the right, forcing the Knight to the right, where his only hope was to attempt to balance himself on his wrecked knee; a feat that was likely impossible. If the Knight wanted to continue the game, then he was going to be in bad shape. Between tearing at his wound with the claw, blasting at the wound with his auto-blaster, the blood choke manuever, and now aggrivating the wounded knee, Darik was most deffinately playing dirty.
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Darik Kane
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[ooc]Second 72 hour hit, ending the fight.[/ooc]

As super heated cohesive packets of energy tore into the man's chest, the simluation gave the quite realistic feeling of a body suddenly going slack in his arms. Darik was impressed, quite impressed at how real it seemed. Aside from a little sensory information being lost due to the limitations of the technology, it was the most realistic 'kill' he had ever faked. Dropping the digital corpse, he twisted his battle claws free and studied the blood coated tines. Digital blood as well, how very novel. And with that victory in hand, he turned on his heel and 'exited' the arena, leaving the Knight where he lay, his torso blasted to splinters. Maybe this tournament wouldn't be boring after all.
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