Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Oct 22, 2013 3:46:51 GMT -8
Weapons and armour in first post Top ten No Alchemy Standard GBA rules 6 - Hoth: Rebel Bunker The combatants find themselves in a bunker on Hoth during the Imperial invasion, secluded from the main invading force. Spartan decorations make it a straightforward duel...until the Imperials destroy the power generators as a part of the invasion (30 posts) and all of a sudden the bunker comes out of lockdown, exposing the duelists to the freezing cold of the planet's surface. Read more: jedivsith.boards.net/thread/720/standard-scenarios#ixzz2iRzfGFHm |
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Oct 22, 2013 7:48:33 GMT -8
I close my eyes and feel the coldness around me, a storm is brewing outside and it is coming closer. I can feel the vibrations of the air as the bunker fights against the cold. Hoth, the giant ball of ice floating through a system only the stupid or the persecuted would come to. I don't know what exactly has driven me here, but I know I will soon discover it, or perhaps them. I walk through the bunker and reach a room that would have to be the command headquarters. I stop, my eyes search the abandoned tunnels and caverns of frozen white water. I stand up straight and unfold my wings until the tips of the entire span almost reaches between two monitors. The brilliant almost pearly white wings expand brilliantly outward, but my eyes betray the angelic scene, dark brooding golden eyes tainted with red.
For the first time, the armour I wear reveals itself, strangely almost camouflaged in with the white surroundings. White plates of armour with golden trimming covers all the vital areas and lessens around the joints to retain freedom of movement. A hood is pulled over my head, brittle white hair can be seen flowing down to the beautiful angelic armour. The plating seems to grow in complexity and beauty though as you follow the shoulders. Intricate metalwork flows up the base of the wings covering the vital and more vulnerable beginning of the wing's own limbs. My hands though remain simply gloved with the same metal as the armour over each of the joints and slowly move up to beyond the wrist to reveal golden coloured vambraces. My left hand remains free of anything and remains relaxed at my side.
My right hand though holds a five foot long hilt of what appears to be a scythe. The scythe is beautiful in it's construct, with the blade itself strangely placed, and within the angular joint of the blade and the hilt, lies a deadly and surprising secret to the unwary. The weapon seems to retain an element of lightness as I move it from beside me to vertical to remain placed solidly on the ground. From my belt hangs the only true tell-tale sign that I was potentially a force user, my worn lightsaber. Yet the unnatural state of my being didn't end there, a well trained force user would notice the dark aura seeping off the armour and scythe. Yes, these were crafted using Sith alchemy.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Oct 22, 2013 15:34:11 GMT -8
Once again Xeonon had been called to the Hoth system, the force pulling him here. The first time literally as he was shifted through time and space against his will. This time however it was of his own doing, using his judge powers he jumped from zone to zone. Judging those who had fallen and those who stood. However this time on Hoth he could only feel one person and it came to him, he was to fight this man. No doubt his personal god had done this despite the fact that in the universe he was dead. Pushing up daisies and sipping whiskey with two beauties in the afterlife. Resigning himself to his fate Xeonon momentarily stripped himself of his powers and became mortal once more.
The Imperial Knight wore armour just not as fancy as his opponents. Blood red in stark contrast of the white around him the armour only the Knights of the Empire wore had many a trick. It's own adorations decorated the armour, although they were not personal they signified where the armour was made, the Fel Empire insignia was on the should pauldron and wrist. On his back a flowing black cape was covered by a homemade shield also bearing the Imperial insignia. The only thing different from his armour and every other armour worn by the Knights was his right palm, it was open showing the synthflesh . On the mans chest were two different pistols in the way of a crossgrip, and a lightsaber on his right hip.
Had Xeonon been a normal person the cold in the tunnels would have hurt, instead he hardly noticed it his body more machine than man. Eyes, right side of his face and right arm all replaced by machines. They showed the hard life Xeonon had lived before passing into the void. Now that he was dead though this was his only way of truly living. His only way to feel what it was like in combat, only time would tell if he would go back to his old ways willingly or as a victim.
Walking Out from around a corner his opponent would be greeted by Xeonon wielding his shield on his left arm and in his right a gun. The FWG 5 pistol although older had it's uses. Aiming the gun using the shield to brace his arm Xeonon flipped the switch that "tagged" the current target Aka the Sith in front of him. Although 10 meters away Xeonon squeezed the trigger and a small pellet came out the minirepulsors ready to correct it's path if the opponent should try to flee. Once The bullet was 3 meters away it would splinter into a dozen smaller flechets and hopefully do some damage to his would be prey.
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Nov 2, 2013 22:28:30 GMT -8
I could feel the shift in the air when my opponent made his way closer, it was strange, a sense of neutrality. A deep sense of 'good' but yet it also had a sense of 'evil' lingering as if a the sentence ended before the man had the chance to say it. Almost as if cut off, a sense of control within the man. Perhaps controlled anger, or perhaps a pathetic twisted view of him doing 'good' in his own mind. The truth of the matter was, there was no such thing as being 'good' only the alive and the dead. Evil was everywhere, the persistent and unrelenting force that drives us. If someone asked who I was, I could not give them an answer, it is far too complex for an ordinary being to understand. I have reached enlightenment and the only way to explain this to someone is to call my self 'The Sentinel'.
The man seemed to be aiming a sort of blaster or at least a weird type of side arm at me, and in his spare hand rested what appeared to be buckler styled shield. The split seconds it took for me to register this, I was moving my wings. Visually they twist and slice through the air to form a barrier around me, my piercing eyes brutally stare with frozen malice toward Xeonon briefly before my entire body is hidden under the feathers. It seems much like a weak defense and Xeonon would pull the trigger with a resolve that misguided him into a false sense of an easy kill. The truth was a far more harsh reality. The force within me tears along my muscles and flows through the wings, expanding faster than anything could naturally go, thus is it's nature.
Nemesis' slug would fire outward on a direct course toward me, mere metre's in reality, and explode in a cloud of sharp spines and shrapnel destined to shred my entire being to a blood pulp on the ground, or a bloody pulp in the shape of a humanoid at least. The bits of shrapnel fling through the air at lethal velocity, but Xeonon fails to realize his fatal error at this stage. My wings are not only a weapon, but also my shield. The force power, in lay man's terms called Force Weapon has activated into my wings, turning something ordinary into something almost invincible, exceeding their normal natural potential into something supernatural. The flechettes smash into my wings and either richochet or merely splinter or shatter, The use of this force power this way has saved my life far more times than I care to admit, unorthodox but effective.
Now it was my time act, my scythe had stood in place upright sticking out the top of my wings, but now it was moving backwards as my feet exploded off the ground, and my body shifted toward my foe. I was sprinting now, my wings splitting apart so I could see my opponent. It would take no more than 2 seconds to cross the distance, and even with good reaction skills my opponent would take at least 1 to react. By then it would be too late to do anything on the level in which would be most effective, though I must not underestimate my opponent, I can sense in my intuition that he has far more resolve than any mere man. Though, as I pass that second mark, my scythe was already swinging downward in diagonal fashion from the right of enemies neck (My perspective's right, Xeo's perspective's left) to decapitate him in the most brutal fashion, from the neck to under his arm.
My entire body weight was behind this attack plus the momentum I had built in heading toward him and the weight of the scythe plus it's momentum. The centrifugal force exerted would shift my balance as it swung, and so I plant my left foot firmly as I do the final swing and ready my right foot to shift and take the weight of my momentum and the coming impact. My guess is my opponent will raise his shield to defend, but regardless I am ready, for even then there is no way now for him to evade this without allowing me an opening, at least in my own mind. My brain buzzes as the force retreats from my wings to come to rest in my core. The hatred and malice boils up within me, my face contorts into a strange madness, and the darkside broods deeply in me like an inferno contained within a furnace ready to explode out and devour you.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 6, 2013 9:49:28 GMT -8
He was not taken aback by the quick movements of his opponent. He could feel the dark side radiating from his body, bringing an unbreathable stench to the air. No he couldn't think of a single time when an opening move, a gunshot had taken out an opponent. No he was in this for the long haul. Two seconds was plenty of time to react. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins time seemed to slow, he thought about what to do. How to do it and each option. In fact those two seconds felt closer to two days. Anyways as the first second ticked by Xeonon released his grip on the gun it fell to the floor. For not it would be dead weight and there wouldn't be enough time to put it in the holster.
Just as predicted Xeonon raised the shield to block the scythe. In doing so he was putting himself up to a huge risk, anyone who fought with such archaic weapons always had an ace up their sleeve. Perhaps this was made of a material stronger than Phrik, maybe the faint evil emanating from it was some sort of dark side perversion. These type of musings did not inspire confidence but he had to believe that his weapons and armour would work for him.
Rather than meeting the attack metal on metal trying to stop it dead cold he angled his shield slightly. If he had not well maybe he was stronger than the man slashing at him, maybe not. Hence him angling the shield in such a way when the curved blade struck it would slight off and to his right (Astaroths left).
As he blocked Xeonon thrust his right arm forward and flexed the palm. The mechanical appendage was adapted with a repulsor in the palm that can break through duracrete and bone alike. Now was to see how strong that armour was. Would it stand against the immense and sudden pressure or would it snap like a dry twig? The repulse was aimed not for the chest though but rather the crotch. As far as Xeonon could tell this was a male and usual pain to the sack hurt like a son of a bitch. Codpiece or not.
Alls fair in love and war.
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Nov 11, 2013 7:21:53 GMT -8
And so began this dance, my eyes tracing the man's body with fiery passion. The force builds inside me, the pent up rage feeding the dark forces raging beneath my skin. My articulated nature takes precedence over my emotions, not allowing the inferno to explode and destroy me. I have not felt such an ignition of excitement for way too long, and my face would show the gleeful malice. There was something not quite right with me and I knew it. My mind embraced this darkness and it has become such an addictive drug, but there were no consequences for this high, not for me anyway. My opponent was interesting, he was controlled, but he lacked the fire that burned in me. He was weak, inferior, and the scars that have been replaced with machinations. Pathetic.
As my mind bursts through these thoughts in an instant, my scythe makes contact with the metal and slips to my left. My body twists, and to stop myself from falling, my right foot moves forward and twists to be firmly placed so my right side was facing Xeonon. Even as this happens my eyes watch Xeonon's eyes move to look toward my groin area, his seemingly unarmored hand opens its palm. I should have noticed it earlier and thought it strange it wasn't covered like his other. My failing here will cost me if I don't act, my wings can't cut through the air to block it this time using my strange force weapon technique. My armour was strong, it would stop it, but it wasn't my armour I was worried about, it was my self on the other side of that armour.
There was only one thing I could do, I moved the pole part of my scythe to intercept the path with a quick movement of my arm, the leverage almost hurt as my muscles snapped into action. Just as I get it into place my left hand releases the pole just as the impact hits the Sith alchemized weapon sending it and my right arm backward with a force that forces me to release my hold. The scythe slows as it hits my wings and impales it's blade into a console a metre behind me. This wasn't a pleasant turn of events, but my grimace quickly twists into a cruel smile. Now that my body had completed it's turn, even though I lost my weapon, I had one advantage remaining.
My wings just happened to be attached to my back and quickly twist to strike at Xeonon's head moving vertically upwards to finish being nearly horizontal. The wings explode with carefully calculated levels of force energy. They harden as force weapon flows into them making them much more effective than a simple bludgeoning weapon. They didn't have much weight to them being made for flight, but the momentum and the added force from the spin of my body, plus the force weapon flowing. Mean while my now free left hand uses a minuscule level of force to pull the blue bladed lightsaber into it's palm. The blue blade points directly at Xeonon's own crotch, though at this stage my mind was moving to find my next action.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 15, 2013 17:31:16 GMT -8
Xeonon was at least marginally aware of the threat the wings posed. Something that was able to stop a bullet was going to hurt if it hit him. As the Scyth went back Xeonon was already in motion. Pushing himself backwards with a jump he caught the blow of the wings on the shield. The Phrick bending with the force of the blow it sent him back an extra half dozen feet. The blue blade all but missing Xeonon who was now 7 feet back landed on the ice with a crunch and a smash.
Although his boots had hit the ground his back hit one of the glass consoles in the room. Similar to the one used by the rebels when doing patrols (early episode 5). The screen cracked and the glass shattered. Many into small pieces, some large and many the size of your palm. One such piece sliced Xeonons scalp causing blood to slowly dribble from the back of his head. Xeonon however had been cybernetically tested on, one such thing made minor pain like this go unnoticed.
What he did do was thank the gods looking over him. Reaching out in the force the Imperial Knight fell back on his training and time spent with the Jensaarai. They had taught him a move that with the aid of the force would speed a object up to lethal force. In this case a sliver of glass 4 inches long and half an inch wide shot out from the ground near Xeonons feet. His cybernetic eyes concentrated on this warriors left eye, he willed the glass to "shoot" towards it. He hoped the fact that the move was obscure, and the fact that the glass was nearly invisible that it would go in through the eye and out the back of the head.
So much chaos and he had yet to draw his weapon. He was impressed withAstoroth, not many could have made such a mess in such short a time. His face and posture showed it, although this was a fight to the death this pan demensional being was loving it. Although it may lead him back towards the gates of Hades it was thrilling. To fight.
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Nov 18, 2013 9:30:47 GMT -8
Xeonon was moving backward, and I immediately did the same in a rapid fashion, calculating my feet's placement to not slip on the ground. It took me less time to go back to where I wanted then it would for Xeonon to slide and then assume his stance of what seemed to be a strange enjoyment of this fight. I move to reach with my right hand to grab the scythe like weapon and with my own strength tear it from the console, causing sparks to burst from the now gaping hole briefly. I move to bring it in front of me, but my eyes never leave Xeonon's own. And I can sense in my guts that something wasn't right, my lightsaber moves upward to cross the scythe's blade in it's position across my forehead. It made a crude bent cross (t shape) over my face, with the scythe's pole slightly diagonally outward from my right side.
It was then something rather painful happens, Xeonon launches the shards of glass at me at a lethal velocity. The shard that was launched toward me flew way faster then could be avoided let alone I didn't even have time to realize what the gleam truly was, but I tried to defend against it regardless. My blue blade of my lightsaber shifts to intercept the glass, only it manages to touch the shard causing it to reach melting point. My head tries to move but it can't move faster than the shard or Xeo's manipulation. The glass melts and explodes past the blue blade and hits me down the left side of my face, cause me to explode in a scream and the smell of cooking flesh. I deactivate my lightsaber and cease my screaming to feel the flesh that begins to slip off my face in a large boiling strip of skin.
You are quite the improviser aren't you old man?
It was my time to play now, I clip my lightsaber back to my belt with a quick movement. I seem to massage the long arm of the scythe with my left hand and suddenly the scythe's blade snaps into a vertical position more like a spear now then the scythe it once was. Twist so the blunt edge is facing toward Xeonon I smash one of the glass consoles next to me and send the bits of glass toward my opponent. Extending my wings outward, I flap and launch myself into the air, my feet touch the edge of the console that I had just smashed, and I push off it with all my strength. I ignore the pain of the icy wind on my new scar, and launch myself blade first straight at Xeonon. I would cover the distance in a mere two seconds, enough for Xeo to react. But enough for me to react too.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 18, 2013 14:14:15 GMT -8
As the glass melted Xeononnknew what was to come. The screams of pain were terrible and grating in his ears. He genuinely wished that he had just let it go into him, so he wouldn't need to feel burning. He could feel the hatred and pain flowing from Astaroth, he knew it would make this Darksider that much more dangerous, like a cornered animal. What struck him as odd was the comment. Xeonon when he died IC was only 32. Prime of his life, and it was true death made time a bit wibbly wobbly but it hadn't aged him much. Had it?
Xeonon was brought back to reality by the smashing of the console, machinery and sparks flying in his direction. It peppered his armour and face like sand in a storm. A mild irritation at best, due to the mechanical nature of his face (eyes particularly) he didn't blink. He didn't even think, his body reacting moments before his mind caught up with what his body was doing. Having mastered a form of telekinesis Xeonon stripped it down to the bare bones and the rent. Rather than rip something Xeonon wished to simply toss. As Astoroth was at the apex of his strike (let's say one second of the lunge) Xeonon reached out with the force.
Rather than use a hand movement the Imperial Knight simply kept eye contact. Inside his minds eye he saw what he wished to happen. He Sithling losing his momentum, and going straight up into the ceiling of flat ice. Hard. His opponent wanted to use his wings? Let him one last time. Hopefully the winged fellow was not like a certain Mando and was affected by the force. Age means experience boy! It was only now that Xeonon finally took his lightsaber out. Leaving it off he held it in front of him, the hilt horizontal in front the the shield.
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Nov 26, 2013 4:36:09 GMT -8
The force hits me, and I hit the roof, the pain shoots through me like a sledgehammer, but yet I laugh at the pain. The darkside explodes with the pain, almost as if the pain was the cause of my power, but it was more the emotions brought on by the pain. The anger broods inside me, restrained by an immense power of will. I begin to fall, but I shift my wings, and send my legs forward. I hit the ground and crouch, my wings fold over my back and spread out on the icy ground beside me. I laugh again, and stare back up at my opponent. My golden eyes seem to be glowing, as if they had been set on fire, the gold now a bright dark orange, the colour of flames.
Experience only takes you so far. You will fall, and your experience will come to nothing.
I place the Scythe's pole on the ground before me and stand, feathers fall from my wings and land on the ground softly. Blood drips down my right wing staining the remaining feathers a red. The back of my head is covered in ice, and I shiver from the cold. The first time I had truly felt the cold in this battle, but the ice was melting and the heat was rising in me. My adrenaline was pumping and my heart was getting excited, my eyes focus on Xeonon intensely. Almost staring him off with his burning resolve, the power within me was all consuming. I needed to act, and so I must. My left hand grabs my lightsaber, my right holding the scythe still, the blade still pointing vertically rather than the original horizontal.
With the flick of my wrist I throw my lightsaber hilt so it would go over the top of Xeonon, but it was firmly in my grasp thanks to the force. Upon reaching above Xeonon I raise my now empty left hand and form a fist in front of my face. My face contorts into a dark smirk and my head twists slightly to the left. The lightsaber shoots upward and with the typical snap hiss the blue blade explodes to life. The lightsaber enters the ice and does a quick circle of the ice that begins dripping, and then within moments the large chunk of ice about two meters acorss falls to crush my opponent. I move now to step slowly toward the falling ice. Xeonon would have to act now, and if he had any chance of looking, he would see my glowing blue lightsaber in my left hand once more pointing toward him.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 26, 2013 11:21:01 GMT -8
It was with that fiery gaze that Xeonon first felt the pangs of doubt. The start of the duel was done that much was obvious, same with the man he had been fighting. Instead Astaroth was replaced with a more deadly, and able fighter. The eyes pierced Xeonon to the core so much that he nearly missed the throw of the lightsaber. He had to keep the momentum going his way, not be put on the defensive. As such he charged forward acutly aware of the blade at his back.
Extending his awareness he pressed the advance. Fast as a cheetah Xeonon would be on him. Closing the gap so that there was 6 feet between them Xeonon sprang into the air with his right foot trailing behind him slightly. Twisting his hip to give him a little extra torque he punched with his right mechanical hand. His aim was to break and shatter the bones of his opponents jaw. Swing from (Astaroths) left hopefully the attack would land square on the jaw. The power used for the repulse being transferred to the gears and coils in the arm. His blade still unlit firmly in it's grasp he was conscious of the risk he was running but felt that it was worth it.
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Astaroth
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Post by Astaroth on Dec 4, 2013 14:03:09 GMT -8
I had such a temption to scream out what a fool this man was, but I resisted and instead bit down hard, clenching my teeth. My eyes burned holes through the atmosphere, that was the resolve and anger that burned through my body. As Xeonon launched himself at me, I drop my lightsaber and let it fall down to the ground. I move my scythe's outstretched blade extended 'vertically' to face Xeonon's own body. I push off the ground with my left foot, my right finding purchase on the ground below my feet before launching myself again. The blade was aimed directly at Xeonon's chest and I had every intention of penetrating his chest armour with the Sith weapon.
Even as I enact this plan, I feel the force launch into my limbs from my core. My eyes explode wide as if a drug had flown into every fiber of my being. This was the power of 'force speed', and even to my waking sense everything around me seemed to slow. Xeonon no longer was a mere movement, but rather a slower figure I was determined to skewer. A sickening thought crosses my mind of even cooking this being and eating his flesh to celebrate the victory, and I grin cruelly at such delightful grotesque ideas. With force speed though the grin would be unnaturally fast if Xeonon even had a chance to notice it.
I lose connection with my lightsaber that was in my hand previously, but that is fine. Even if Xeonon could somehow grab hold of it, I would have a much stronger connection with it, it would be like trying to tame a wild beast. It was from my days as Zerachiel Korbin, and even the thought of that name makes me want to spit and scowl. The days as a padawan and after that a Jedi Knight are over, I found a new purpose. My master Diamonte Tuhlute is nothing to me now, and Adieumus Matango is nothing but a man yet to fall before my tainted wings. These thoughts all burst through my head way too fast, and the rage that explodes with them seems to just drive me further down into this chaos I have embraced!
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Xeonon Solomon
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Dec 26, 2013 14:37:12 GMT -8
Ah force speed, my cruel friend. As Xeonons first step happened the Sithling became an almost untraceable blur of movement. Almost. Opening himself to the force Xeonon let it flow through him, direct him. There was a reason for those Jedi like reflexes, and it was the force acting through a person. Xeonon had no way of knowing for sure where the blade would go. However he reasoned it would be for the largest target. Mix tha with the force and his arm began to move of it's own accord. The punch all but forgotten the lightsaber turned on.
Twisting his right wrist so the curved blade would face downward he met resistance. The blade caught the pole of the sycth, but it was not fast enough. He could feel the cold blade pierce through a weak point of his armour near his navel an inch into his flesh. It was blood curdling to think how close he had come to the abyss. Then the pain struck like a hammer blow. It was hard and sudden and he lost it. Screaming in agony something happened he had not banked on.
He was still connected to the force, and he unintentionally released a force scream. It was raw and emotional, his pain, suffering and hatred poured into it. In fact every negative emotion he carried was thrown into it. His fear of being left behind to dot in this tomb. It was as chilling as the ice around them, anyways. The scream emptied from his lungs amplified from the force, the mind splitting yell reverberating on the walls. Consoles sparked and blasted apart, ice began to fall and crack around them and he still yelled. Being in such close proximity to it was not good for the mental aspect, just as it was bad for your physical being.
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Darth Andor
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Post by Darth Andor on Mar 24, 2015 4:53:12 GMT -8
Way to go duelists! I'm very intrigued in the action that took place in your battle, and I'm dying to figure out what would have happened should the events have truly concluded! I'm really delighted by both of your writing styles and the care you take into making sure that each post is full of imagery and description. Bravo!
Now onto the Judgement:
Astaroth: You had some very impressive moves and creative ideas that kept Xeonon alert, which is an excellent way to take advantage of a duel. You were eventually able to land a hit, although not instantly lethal, it could have worsened had the battle progressed. There was one thing that stands out to me which was your use of the Force and how you never wrote about the aftermath (fatigue) while also making limited description about the build-up of your force energies. I would highly encourage you, in future battles, to take the time to incorporate the aftermath of using so much force, as it would be tiring, and bound to affect your performance. Two force weapons and two or three applications of telekinesis warrant fatigue from any level Force-user, albeit the severity is up to the writer's description. Other than that, I absolutely loved your creativeness and I really envy your unique style of writing in 1st person.
Xeonon: You too had moments that kept Astaroth on his toes: literally coming in with a bang. You managed to land two minor hits: one of which caused actual physical damage. Overall, I feel like you were in control of the match, even amongst the curveballs thrown at you. You managed to describe the Force in your posts, although I personally would like to see a little more. I guess you could say I'm a bit of a stickler when it comes to Force usage since it can be very vague and easily GMed. I thoroughly enjoyed the creativeness of your posts as well.
Once again, I want to thank both duelists for an excellent performance.
The winner is: XEONON SOLOMON
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