Jaidan Shatani vs Diarmuid Ua Duibhne

[Dutch]

CHALLENGED IN THE CBOX, HEARD BY THE Dutch

DreadPirateMike and Ash have decided to see who is a better duelist, snowflake or lancy!

THE SETTING

A barren wasteland world, the sight of falling wreckage from a space battle far in the distance. Two survivors, beaten and exhausted meet on the cracked dirt. Honor and duty dictates their destiny, pride and fear drive both.

A 4 round suite I think would be perfect for this. A death match of course, wouldn't have it any other way!

SINCE DreadPirateMike IS DOING HIS APP UPDATE BEFORE YOU Ash, YOU GO FIRST

GOGOGO

[Ash]

Diarmuid rolled his shoulders, letting the joints pop over his healing wounds. He was finally able to see out his left eye, which had been swollen since his crash earlier.

Since landing, Diarmuid went to work taking care of a few enemy combatants here and there. It wasn't anything spectacular, but unless they surrendered, he felt no pain in killing a few people.

He was now sitting on a rock, sipping some water from a 'liberated' water-pack, and simply catching his breath. His senses were on high scan, and luckily, he didn't feel anyone directly around him. He was also checking his bracer on his left forearm, and Gae Buidhe hidden on the underside. Gae Dearg was sitting against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, that peace didn't last long, however, as a feeling of... not-evil washed over him. Of course, there had to be some Jedi around. With a sigh, and a mischievous smile on his face, set off towards the Jedi. He was using Gae Dearg like a walking stick, his right leg still needed a few minutes to fully heal, but otherwise, he felt more or less recovered.

Those few minutes were used to make his way to the Jedi, which he found soon enough. He moved his spear to lay across his shoulders, head to his left. His arms were draped across it in a relaxed fashion, but his force energy felt anything but.

I hope the Jedi arestill as honorable as when I was with them. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, at your service. Hope you don't consider this personal, friend, buts its my duty to make it easier for my allies. My leg's not up to par, yet, so I hope it would go fast.

Diarmuid's armorweave outfit didn't show much for injuries, besides a few carbon scores. One could tell he was favoring his left leg slightly, but it could have been a ruse. In truth, it somewhat bothered Diarmuid, but wouldn't hamper him.

Now he waited for the Jedi's response: would it be right to combat, or would he be as honorable and chivalrous as the Sith, and introduce himself before any blood was shed.

[DreadPirateMike]

Well, it was a great day for clarity, if nothing else. First, second, and third impressions all agreed, there was nothing much of anything here on this planet. Or at least, there hadn't been, until the powers of the galaxy had seen fit to bring the war here. Jaidan was rather hoping the ship he'd barely managed to walk away from wasn't the only new feature adding a little diversity to the landscape, or else he'd be contemplating a longer stay than he wished...though maybe not by much, if he couldn't find supplies.

He'd frankly been a bit perplexed at why the Sith would bother with a boarding action, given the state of his ship, but all the same, he'd stayed behind to help contain it while the crew made for their escape pods, and had as such been still aboard as the Taris Ascendant (Yes, yes he did grasp the irony of that.) began its uncontrolled descent into the planet's atmosphere. Cut off from the bridge by emergency bulkheads, he'd managed to survive the initial impact by securing himself with hands and feet to a wall of cargo restraint netting, but that small triumph was soon overshadowed, when the sounds of explosions ripping through the devastated hulk shook the cobwebs from his head. He'd escaped the ship itself, but not the shockwave radius by the time the torpedo magazine went up, and threw Jaidan against one of this world's bountiful collection of unforgiving rock faces. Upon waking, he knew he'd been lucky twice over. Only the will of the Force could have spared him from being cut in half by flying shrapnel, but such knowledge was of small comfort to his broken left arm. Managing to fashion a sling out of the lowermost part of his outer robe and tie it with his teeth was triumph of a sort, but that too seemed hollow. He'd looked anyway, of course, but he'd known the search for other survivors was pointless.

Still, the Jedi in him looked upon this wasteland with a more favorable eye than most. It wasn't so very different from Tatooine, where he'd so nearly been unmade, only to come away with not only the item he'd sought, but a level of humility altogether more befitting his path. There was something centering about such places, short on not just scenery, but the basics of survival. It was pure and purifying, quickly stripping away that which was unnecessary from those that passed through it. One realized in short order that whatever other concerns they carried with them, be it pain, anger or regret, none of it mattered. Not if it didn't facilitate that survival. Like making for the high ground to better survey his prospects, for instance. Or using the journey to focus his minimal healing powers on the arm, in the hopes that it may eventually be of some use to him.


All you bring, into the abyss

It leaves...the abyss

Only defiance is answered


Philosophy aside, the hike had paid off, and revealed his ship to be something of a lost sheep. The wreckage, in all its apalling multitude, was spread out over hundreds of miles on the far side of this small mountain range, but all the same, there was a somewhat more concentrated ship graveyard to be found, and much of it looked, if hardly pristine, a good deal more intact than his own cruiser. The battle had presumably left SOMEBODY still in one piece up there, and it seemed likely there was an emergency beacon still salvageable. More promising than meditating on the mountain top, at any rate.

Ah. And survivors, too. One, at least, and from the moment he sensed the other, he wasn't altogether certain that was good news. His senses for such things were not nearly so attuned as those of some other Jedi he knew, but when they at last came face to face, it proved easier than expected to suss out the spearman's intent, when said spearman rather obligingly simply TOLD him.

He had to admit, he rather appreciated that.

"Jaidan Shatani." he replied without preamble, reaching up and throwing back the hood which had served to keep the inclement sun off of him. "And if you're at my service, then how about sharing some of that water?"

Obliged again! Catching the canteen gratefully, he drank slowly at first, simply to allow the moisture back into his parched throat, then with considerably more gusto. And while the water itself was, of course, the most valuable thing to come of that exchange, he HAD learned a few things more about this fallen Jedi. For one thing, the leg was no feint, but nor was it an injury on par with his. And if he judged the presence of fangs properly, it would greatly behoove him to get the fight started quickly, if a fight it must be. But this man had shown his enemy respect, and that deserved reciprocity.

"Thank you.  So, honor, hmm? Very well." he continued, tossing the water back. "Let us discuss your honorable surrender. If you give your submission and your word, then in exchange, I shall allow you to keep your weapons until Republic forces arrive to take possession. Until then, I've nowhere to put them anyway. Honor bids me make the offer, bids me hold fast to it..." And now, shrugging off the outer robe for the utmost freedom of movement available to him, he unclasped his main hand foil from its belt, and rested his thumb meaningfully against the activation switch. "...and it bids me warn you I can make the offer but once."

[Dutch]

Sorry for the delay gentlemen! Let's get to the grading: Now as always, the first round is graded a little different to give ya'll plenty of space to amp things up >3

---

Round 1


Ash
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 3/5
Coolness: 2/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: Starting posts are always a pain, but you handled this one well bud. Kudos on beating Lancy up a bit! Can't wait to see the lancing begin *_*

DreadPirateMike
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 2/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: A pleasure to read your writing as always maik. Love all the back story you gave my little pic and blurb for your setting! Def earned a little extra here having Jaidan going up against Lancy one handed, you might regret that decision later

Total:

Ash: 12

DreadPirateMike: 14

---

Maik's up by a bit, but not uncommon for the follower to start with a leg up on the first poster. Now that introductions are aside let the fighting begin!

gogogo

[Ash]

This man seemed Jedi through and through, with maybe a little bit of humor underlying it. When asked, Diarmuid tossed over his canteen and leaned back against a larger rock, his spear against his shoulder as he rubbed his injured leg.

It didn't seem to take the Jedi long to drink his fill of the water before the canteen was tossed back. Diarmuid caught it in his off hand and set it down on the bolder.

Diarmuid couldn't help but to smile as the Jedi asked for his honorable surrender. Slowly, Diarmuid shook his head side to side and fully stood up, a smile still on his face.

As tempting as that sounds, I must respectfully decline. I would offer you the same, but other Sith would give you a slow and very painful death, shocking as it may sound.

Diarmuid's smile grew very faintly at his small joke, hinting at Sith Lightning as a form of possible torture. Walking closer to Jaidan, Diarmuid didn't do a little flourish with Gae Dearg, save for spinning it around so the uncannily sharp point was facing the ground.

I'm afraid that I must play the part of a classic Sith and... well, use your imagination. I'll make this quick, friend.

Diarmuid decided to take initiative and stuck out first, spinning the tip of his spear up and around. However, it was more or less a feint as it fell short by around 2 feet. Taking a half-step forward, he stuck out three times with force-enhanced speed: once at the base of the sternum, second at the hollow of the throat, and the third for the head. Three attacks, all within a fraction of a second, with an object that had actual mass than something of pure energy. He still remained ready for a counter.

((This is when I wish I wrote longer posts and drew things out more. Damn me always getting to the 'point'))

[DreadPirateMike]

(Well, I thought it was pretty good. Sorry for my own delay. For whatever reason, I had a hell of a time getting this post to feel right.)

"It's alright. Civility could demand no more of you."

The absolution he offered might not, ultimately, count for much, but nor could he ever regard these words as wasted. For better or worse, this was an opportunity, some might say an obligation that set Jedi and Sith both apart from the rank and file of this conflict. Conversations like this before battle was joined were common, if hardly ubiquitous; in short, a militarized Force user took the time to try and learn a little something of their enemy. And it was at times like this most of all that Jaidan gave thanks for his Echani heritage, that he did not have to rely on a few moments of snappy repartee to try and form some even remotely complete picture of a man's character. He would learn far more in the fight to come, but this Spearman? Like those who had come before, he would likely regard this as quite possibly his last chance for articulate expression, and would need to make due with whatever Jaidan deigned to give back in kind. He wanted Diarmuid to know he'd made an impression, one which would linger.

Most Jedi didn't make a habit of discussing their lifelong effort to keep the Dark side in check within themselves, so personal a struggle as it was. Yet it was Jaidan's suspicion that if they did, he'd find he was far from alone in occasionally pondering what sort of man he might be to behold, should that battle ever turn against him. He'd felt some inkling of it, perhaps, during his Trial of Spirit all those years ago, an experience he KNEW was not unique to him. But that experience, harrowing as it was, had played out within the confines of his own imagination, shaped as much by his own prejudices and assumptions as by the objective nature of the Force. Could it be that such a path might have shaped him, could yet shape him into something not unlike the man before him?

He could do worse, he supposed. On the wrong side or no, Diarmuid claimed to hold himself to a similar standard regarding treatment of his enemies. And what's more, Jaidan sensed sincerity in it, believed the spear wielder truly did wish him the decency of a quick death. Certainly, he would grant the same courtesy, if he could. But he suspected there was one thing more they had in common: an intention to make this difficult. For the sad fact was that a personable demeanor could not change what this man was a part of. And the Jedi, for his part, had no need of personal hatred toward a man in order to end him.

But it helped if they were a pushover. And it seemed his luck didn't run that far today. The man was fast; as fast as Jaidan himself, if one considered only the mortal sinew propelling him. But the initial feint was wasted effort; just as Diarmuid enjoyed an advantage on the basis of his origins in the form of rapid healing, an Echani had advantages in turn. The sudden, rigid tension in his attackers frame, his forearm particularly, may have been vanishingly subtle to other eyes, but it had no place amidst the fluid, confident movements of a trained weapon master. The strike was going to be jerked to a halt like a crazed Kath hound still tied to its post. The intent may as well have been spoken aloud.

Even so, the event was just beginning, and he wished to study the Firrereo's technique and capabilities a bit more before he truly committed himself, and so he decided to play along, igniting his foil and swinging it into the technically correct position to intercept the imaginary assault. And when the real onslaught came, he gave ground against it just as a Makashi fencer ought to, falling back along the line and meeting the spear near to the tip, where its trajectory could be the most easily controlled. He still had to put a bit of oomph behind his parries, given the solid nature of the weapon in question, but he'd trained both with and against such things before. And as he considered the nature of the assault, the speed of his perception accelerated as he strained his Force enhanced speed to the limit, a suspicion began to form.

The man's TRUE speed, backed by all his gifts was more impressive still, but when it came to their true upper limits, Jaidan knew he could give back as good as he was getting...and maybe just a hair more. If true, that was a welcome revelation. It figured his off hand would be disabled just as he came up against a weapon whose haft could actually be grabbed. But the suspicion needed to be tested. Time to spring a bit of a trap himself.

Just as Diarmuid's third and final thrust lashed out, Jaidan abruptly changed direction, springing forward off the right foot he'd just planted upon the cracked earth to execute a lunge that not only unleashed blinding speed, but demonstrated that while it may not be the equal of a lance taller than its wielder, a foil in the hands of an expert was capable of some pretty respectable reach itself. In his effort to cut down on Diarmuid's time in which to react to the change of tactic, he made only the most minute of movement off the line, meeting the thrust at the halfway point so closely that he felt the spearhead's edge biting into the flesh just under his cheekbone. No way of telling just yet what that'd cost him later. No doubt it would look ghastly in the short term, but he didn't THINK he'd need to be seriously worried about blood loss in the immediate future. The important thing was that it did nothing to stop him in the moment, and the green energy blade kept coming in, lashing out from below at his foe's throat.

Yet this was a feint of his own...at least, unless Diarmuid was sloppy enough to let it connect. While the lunge was executed with technical perfection, the bulk of the Echani's attention now lay upon the leg that he'd just seen the Firrereo rubbing at a few moments earlier. Shifting his weight so as to try and follow whatever direction in which the man attempted evasion, Jaidan lashed out with a low kick. It lacked the full power he was capable of throwing behind such a strike, but it was still fully capable of shattering a knee with a direct hit, and left him still reasonably grounded with his other leg. If all else failed, he was ready to call on the Force once again, and catapult himself clear.

[Dutch]

That was an abolutely fantastic Round 2!

I gotta say before you two even read the grading, know that this was not only a great read: It has been one of the best rounds I've yet read in this section. You two should definitely consider writing together outside this board, I'd like to see some more Lancy and Snowflake

---

Round 2


Ash
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: Loved how clearly I could imagine Lancy in that first paragraph, bonus for that. A couple of typos held back your effort score, a simple proofread would have put it higher. Great way to start the fighting!

DreadPirateMike
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: As per usual, your first sentence or two always make me snort in amusement. Some run on sentences here, another proofread or two would raise your effort score. Damn son, full detail for the way you described Jaidan's reading of Lancy's body. This impressed me. Bonus too for it.

Total:

Ash: 28

DreadPirateMike: 31

---

Alright boys, let's let this baby roll!

ROUND 3

*ding!*

[Ash]

Lancer wasn't too surprised that Jaidan avoided his own attacks, then began to strike out with his own attack. The white haired man planted a food, and jumped off of it, lunging towards him.

He intentionally allowed himself to get touched by the spear-point, drawing blood along his cheek with a very sharp, clean cut. This Jedi was fast... Very fast: just as fast as Diarmuid was. A feral smile touched Diarmuid's lips as the man continued his lunge.

Diarmuid began pulling his spear back, something easier to do than moving ones entire body. The spearhead also began to rise as he pulled back. Trained eyes watched the man, and although he wasn't trained to read movements as well as this man, he did know speed very well, and he could react.

Another plus for Lancer was that he had plenty of reach, meaning he had that much more time to react. He did a almost skip back half a step, matching about half of Jaidan's speed. By now, his spear was in a good position for a block.

It wasn't meant to be as Jaidan changed up what he was doing again, and, with previously planted feet, lashed out with a kick: a kick right to Diarmuid's leg.

That leg had yet to hit the ground, his left food being the only thing planted at the moment. If the kick connected with Lancer's leg, then it would certainly cripple Lancer more than he already was.

Diarmuid brought his right foot up higher, letting the tail end of Gae Dearg occupy the space where his leg should have been. His foot was behind it as the kick connected.

Diarmuid spun slightly with the kick, using that momentum to spin him as well as let his spear fall. He used strength in it to, but it was almost, clumsy. His left hand began to track towards Jaidan and the spear's shaft.

However, there was something in his hand that previously wasn't there: a yellow cylinder, growing as he brought it around, along with a laser blade extending from the tip.

Two attacks were coming for Jaidan now: one coming form the upper right, mostly spear shaft and all pain, or a lightsaber blade from lower left, mostly pain. Unfortunately, this attack left Lancer with a margin for an attack. He hoped that his armorweave would protect him should an attack come, but Snowflake here would also be badly hurt in Lancy's own attack. This wasn't meant to get Lancer killed, or really hurt, but to drive off Jaidan and give Diarmuid back his reach.

[DreadPirateMike]

Jaidan Shatani had never been shy about giving credit where it was due, nor had he ever allowed that objectivity to be compromised by distinctions like enemy or friend. And this enemy was due credit. Whether it owed to Diarmuid's individual skill and prowess, the novelties of a duel like this and the weapons involved, or some combination of all of that...Jaidan wasn't entirely certain how he'd pulled that off just now. A spear was lethally quick provided you could keep your enemy at range of course, but once he'd gotten past the point, he wouldn't have thought it possible that a weapon that long could be recalled that fast.

Well, that was the point of training. If a sudden surprise muddled your thinking, you didn't need to rely on thought. Not when your moves had been practiced and re-practiced to the point of barely conscious reflex. It became clear almost immediately that the kick would not find its intended target, and so that leg was yanked back to restore his footing. Not quickly enough, sadly, for it still provided the force to set up the Sith's maneuver. Cute little trick, using his own power to fuel the counter. The essence of any number of worthy fighting styles.

But something else had to be going on.

He all but ignored the long spear, save that he stepped in a little further to ensure he was in no danger of catching the sharp tip. If need be, he'd simply endure that hit, twisting slightly to catch it with muscle instead of bone; it'd hurt, but given Diarmuid's lack of leverage in that position, the attack simply wouldn't have the force to be crippling. That could theoretically change if he took hold of the spear shaft as he seemed to be attempting, and add a little extra oomph at the last moment...but no. Something was wrong about the way he was moving for that to work.

His arm. The direction was about right, but not the speed. His hand was coming up just barely too slowly to catch a hold of the spear haft before it came down. The tension in his biceps sounded a secondary warning. The muscles should be loose, for a move that required only fluid grace and speed, yet the man was summoning power. Not a great deal of it, granted; he was still going for speed over brute force, a bit like a shockboxer's left jab. Even so, this was an attack in its own right. And finally, his hand. Again, too much tension, flexing for a grip, but too soon. By the barest fraction of a second, perhaps, but too soon. He wasn't grabbing for the spear.

All of this was gathered at a glance, and collated in a heartbeat. Again, he didn't think this out so much - His conscious mind just didn't work that fast - as simply know it, falling back on a racial sixth sense for such things that bordered on prescience. And that was well for Jaidan Shatani; his attacker didn't leave him much time to act on a warning. But act he did, and Diarmuid was right about one thing. His stunt with the secondary weapon, clever as it was, DID leave the Firrereo open to attack himself.

It came in the form of three quick strokes, with some aggressive footwork backing it. The first stroke was quite atypical of Jaidan's beloved Makashi, but then that was why the true masters always advised against enslavement to form. He swung upward from the shoulder, all brute force, meeting the descending spear and batting it roughly aside.  And with their weapons momentarily locked, Jaidan surged forward with the Force at his back, forward and to the right.  Hopefully, this would force Diarmuid briefly off balance; it succeeded, at least, in getting him inside the range of the yellow saber spear's sweep.  And then, the brute force contact of weapon to weapon was abruptly terminated as the Echani weaponmaster executed two quick cuts.  The classical elegance of speed was back in place of brute force by this point, little more actual force behind the strikes than he might put behind a paint brush, but that was of no consequence.  The second stroke simply retraced the path of the first, striking downward and left across the chest before Jaidan twisted at the hips to complete a full 180 degree arc with his foil.  It would remove Diarmuid's arm just above the elbow, saber spear and all if the emerald shaft of superheated plasma could not be evaded.  The second strike was a simple horizontal sweep to open the spearman's belly. 

[Dutch]

Yisssssss things are getting heated!

---

Round 3


Ash
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 3/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: Full coolness for bustin' out the lightsaber. This was the real 'oh shit' moment for me in this post. Bonus for Snowflake. I would still recommend a proofread before posting, because I dun know why Lancy suddenly has snacks in the beginning of your post

DreadPirateMike
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: Full effort for taking the time to make the duel a cohesive read as well as a badass fight. Bonus for taking Lancy's f'ing arm Was that planned? I think I remember you two mentioning planning something but damn guys xD

Total:

Ash: 44

DreadPirateMike: 50

---

Wow gentlemen, way to turn it up a notch! Ya'll really set yourselves up for the final round. And now it's time to make things so much worse :3

As the two duelists sweat, blood fueled by adrenaline and the Force time itself seemed to slow for both men. In their mind's eye, a vision. A realization. This was no mere empty expanse of desert. Buried in the sands all around are small pockets of electrical energies, light pulses of sensory waves wafting off the pockets. Landmines. A field for as far as the Force could show, with only the guidance of the Force stopping both Jedi and Sith from being turned into krayt dragon chum.

FOR YOUR FINAL ROUND. LAAAAAAAAAAAAAND MIIIIIIIIIIIIINES

a possible five bonus points can be earned this round for putting LANDMINES in your final post



ROUND FOUR START

[Ash]

Lancer was expecting a counter attack, but not quite the one that Jaidan decided to put on for him, however. Diarmuid didn't find himself much of a disadvantage quite yet. When the white haired jedi blocked his swing from his right arm, he had to move his own good arm, and use a substantial amount of strength to deflect the mass that Lancy had with that hand.

He jarred forward and to lancer's left, hiding inside the line of attack of the deadly yellow blade. His eyes widened slightly as he began to disconnect their weapons and bring his arm back around. Calling on the force to augment his body, he rush backwards, and felt the blade's initial swing cut across his arm, luckily scraping against his cortosis bracer.

Lancer now had a feral grin of sorts on his face as he prepared to replant his feet, but something made him think twice, and he kept his feet curled. Reaching out, he felt not one, but many odd electrical energy signatures. It seemed that landmines were buried all around them, and thanks to the force or simple dumb luck, they avoided triggering one.

This crap was really going downhill with these mines coming into place. Guess he had to be lucky they weren't land sharks or some crazy thing. Yea... Land sharks would be worse... land sharks with opposable thumbs that exploded like a bomb when struck...

Lancer fell to one of his knees, letting pain register across his face, even as he reached out with the force to the three nearest mines. He gripped them, and lifted two of them out of the ground, sending two of them towards the Jedi. He used the force to detonate them when he felt it was necessary, hiding him from view and hopefully causing a distraction.

He rushed the jedi now, closing the distance even as the third one was sent as well, letting the mine head towards chest level, and set off the fuse. Lancer was within range of the deadly mine, and called on the force to protect him from the head and metal.

Finally came his rounds of savage attacks as he tapped into his inner darkness, more so than before. He was starting to get angry. First came his short spear in an attack a stab towards snowflakes left side, which went wide that side barely, as it wasn't the intended attack. He did that mainly so he could hold the lightsaber there.

Extending his grip on the longspear's shaft, he did a wide sweep at the Jedi's legs, the spear tip touching the ground, but not hindered. When it was past, he brought it up and sent it rocketing back, fallowed up by a stab with the short spear, and a heavy overhead swing with the longspear. These attacks were fast and powerful, using the force and the mass not found in a lightsaber strike to keep the Jedi from jumping inside again. One handed, Lancer hoped that the man couldn't draw upon the force enough for the strength against his jarring barrage of attacks.

When his last attack was finished, he pulled back on the grip on his longspear, resuming his original grasp of the weapon with a little over a meter length at the front end. His foot was close to a landmine now, but knew he could defend against it with the force, and he would be more than happy to use it against the jedi, who seemed to use his enchantiness more than anything.

[DreadPirateMike]

Super alloy armor? Damn that cheap, weasely son of a Hutt!

Not bad, in other words. He returned the burgeoning grin in equal measure, lacking only the fangs and wondering idly if that bracer would fit him when he saw the spearman stop short and his attention visibly wander. Now, this Firrereo had certainly shown himself more than a bit eccentric by Sith standards, but he wasn't fool enough to simply begin daydreaming in the middle of a fight. What's more, he could feel Diarmuid's presence all around him now, as the man cast his senses out into his surroundings. Well, far be it from him to turn his nose up at a point of interest. This wasn't his specialty as far as the Jedi disciplines went, but he did know ONE trick he'd found more than a little useful over the years.

He closed his eyes a moment, and focused on looking a little harder, just past the peripheral curtain of rock, flesh and duracrete where his gaze normally stopped. And sure enough, when he opened them again, things suddenly looked quite different. The dry, cracked earth was still perceived, but no longer substantial, a morning mist burning away beneath the sun and no longer able to block his vision. Diarmuid, of course, was very much still visible, and frankly somewhat grotesque to behold, not one whole being but an improbable hodgepodge of pieces. Here and there he was handsome still, bright and charming as his present affect, remnants of the Jedi he once was. Enough of the original man to leave some sense of honor intact. In other places, he was dark and withered. Diseased, radiating ill will and ill intent. And throughout, cracks. Clean breaks, jagged edges...it was as if he'd been shattered and crudely pieced back together, some parts completely replaced where the original piece of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne either could not be found or had been tossed aside like so much garbage.

It was a tragedy, but not entirely unique, and not something he could afford to dwell on now. For beneath that insubstantial mist lay a VERY substantial, and much more imminent concern.

"Oh, Flame."

The mere presence of this mine field was bad enough. The embarrassment of knowing they'd both missed it on the way in, hurting and exhausted or not, was almost worse. And he wasn't even going to THINK about how many near misses there had been by now, how staggeringly unlikely it was for either of them to still be in one piece. He wondered, for a moment, what bearing this new revelation would have on the Lancer's code of honor? Perhaps he'd simply be more cautious in his movements, and it would remain a pure duel between two weaponeers, just with the stakes suddenly raised substantially.

But no, it appeared the time for chivalry had come and gone. Now, apparently, it was a land mine fight. Fine.

He was at a bit of a disadvantage in trying to defend himself without the use of his other arm, but then that wasn't an entirely new development. And the Force moved through more than just the arms. As the first mine came flying his way, a quick snap kick sent a blast of telekinesis via his booted foot to intercept and prematurely detonate it. The second proved more problematic, having gotten in closer and forcing him to simply evade, kicking off with his other leg into a force assisted leap that carried him out of the blast radius with only a couple of grazes from the shrapnel. A second telekinetic kick rapidly cleared him a safe landing zone, and the third...well, Jaidan got creative with the third. Kicking out low at a near 90 degree angle as he came down and putting all the strength he could muster into it, a wave of pressure shot outward through the ground in Lance's direction, setting off four separate mines as it went and kicking up a deadly tidal wave of dirt and shrapnel.

But soon enough, having weathered the exchange of high explosives, the Sith decided he still wanted to FINISH this fight the old-fashioned way, and came surging through the thickening cloud of dust with a fresh assault. And something else had changed this time as well. Those cracks were starting to glow, a bright and flickering orange, like a sword in the making just taken off the blacksmith's fire for quenching. By a combination of awareness through the Force and his own mind working to fit its own framework around it, this had long meant rage building, trying to burst forth. At the same time, his features became subtly harder to make out, the layer of dark smoke around him growing thicker. As the anger grew, the good humor began to die, and the Dark Side came rushing in to fill the void.

"Perhaps you forget." Jaidan offered calmly. "This was YOUR choice."

At first, it was a manageable task to defend against this latest onslaught; in fact, Diarmuid would have to work hard himself simply to avoid paying for his eagerness. Spotting yet another attempted feint, Jaidan didn't bother to meet the saber spear thrust, striking instead directly at the arm holding it, making a point to aim for the bicep this time, and thus beyond the cortosis bracer's protection. The initial leg sweep too was simple enough to simply hop over. But he'd underestimated the spearman's speed, and at this point his lack of the off hand began to truly hinder him. Gravity simply did not return him to the ground quickly enough for him to defend himself properly against the long spear's followup swing, which smashed unforgivingly against his ribs. Force imbued or not, one of them was cracked at the least, and that was being optimistic. Pushing back the pain of that simply by virtue of having no choice, he managed to partially parry the next thrust, but was unsuccessful in avoiding injury entirely. A pained shout was torn from him as the yellow blade burned a shallow depression through his side, just barely above the kidney. In desperation, he threw his entirely body forward, knocking his attacker back and spoiling the aim of the spear swing that would have cracked his skull.

Clumsy, and painful, but it at least bought him a moment. A moment in which to spot what lay by the Firrereo's feet. Just like that, the smile returned, and a hard stomp from him telekinetically sent the mine flying up to Lancer's midsection, just as Jaidan's good arm shot out, foil held with his thumb only to enable the Force Push aimed at the man and mine both. That would certainly make the chore of either evading or defending against the resulting explosion considerably harder, but Jaidan didn't stick around to view the result. Lance wanted him out of his personal space? Not a problem. Gritting his teeth against his body's protests, he leapt into a high arcing flip over Lance's head. Mid-way through his flight, as soon as the explosion reached his ears, he hurled his lightfoil, which immediately began to spin with such speed that by the time it reached its target, it resembled only a brightly glowing green disc. One fully capable of cutting a man in half.

[Dutch]

Alright boys, let's see what you did with my little surprise!

---

FINAL ROUND


Ash
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 2/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 5/5
Comments: For the most part a great post, though the sudden cortosis bracer(?) did dock your fairness. A solid possible finish for Lancy! Full bonus for plenty of LANDMINES in yer post Would give more for 'enchantiness' if the scale allowed it

DreadPirateMike
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 3/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: 5/5
Comments: Wow DPM, that may have been one of your best written Jai posts yet. I found his vision within the Force utterly fascinating, nice job. FULL BONUS FOR TIDAL WAVE OF LANDMINES

Total:

Ash: 63 FINAL SCORE

DreadPirateMike: 73 FINAL SCORE

---

Damn guys, way to follow true duel traditions and end it with a bang! I really enjoyed watching both Lancy and Snowflake at their utter best in combat. It was brutal, it was bloody. It was wonderful.

In the end though, there can be only one!

Winner: DreadPirateMike

You may post your finisher post

[DreadPirateMike]

Even as Jaidan descended back to earth, before he'd even turned his head, the Force spoke with a clarity it only ever seemed to possess in the heat of battle. Or perhaps it was only in such dire instances, as the Echani soul and body worked in such harmony, that he was able to listen properly. In either event, he was listening quite attentively now, and as was so often the case, its wisdom proved crucial, but contradictory. It told of success, but not triumph, the need for caution. Despite the surge of pain and shock he felt, there was anger as well. Defiance.

The job wasn't done.

The landmine had indeed hurt him, Jaidan saw as he landed and twisted around in a defensive stance. To have survived at all at so very close a range, it was plain the Firrereo had some skill at summoning barriers, an art that Jaidan had never learned. But it had not been enough this time to get him away unscathed. Wisely, he'd focused on and succeeded in shielding his head and chest, but below, where it had been weaker, he could see multiple spots where the shrapnel had penetrated his armorweave body suit. But a fighter hurting was a fighter all the more, and the spearman's neither allowed his injuries to blind him to the further danger, nor to cripple him from responding. The long spear lashed outward in a brutal swipe, met the whirling lightfoil head on, and send it spinning away off into the distance. Recognition visibly dawned on the Firrereo's face then: Jaidan was unarmed, and this would be his last, best chance.

But that chance had already come and gone. Sprinting forward with every last bit of his Force enhanced speed, Jaidan got a hold of the long spear's shaft before it could be brought back on point, and so immobilized it for a moment. The shorter, yellow spear came around as expected, but it was slowed by the wound his lightfoil had inflicted on that arm moments before, and was knocked away by a hard kick to the cortosis bracer...just in time for Jaidan's lightfoil on its return path, which took Diarmuid's hand off at the wrist. It gave him no pleasure to pile agony atop agony, but he knew the real sadism was in allowing this to go on any longer than it needed to. The same foot which had kicked Diarmuid's arm away now smashed with full force against the side of his knee, even as a hard yank tore the long spear at last from its owner's grip. Jaidan's own good hand now free, it shot forward one last time to seize his opponent's throat.

"I'm sorry." he offered with the utmost sincerity, just before an abrupt and brutal twist snapped the Firrereo's neck. "But you should have surrendered."

As Diarmuid fell to the barren, sun scorched soil, Jaidan wasn't far behind, sinking to his knees in exhaustion and gritting his teeth in some odd combination of relief and agony. He finally had the luxury of letting himself acknowledge his body's protests, actually FEEL his injuries. And yes, they hurt. In truth, he could barely find the strength to stand again. But he could stand, he found a minute later when he forced himself to try. Which meant he could do everything else that would be required of him to survive, or at least give that his best shot before he truly rested. He'd finish off that water skin, comb every square inch of the wreckage for a transmitter...and the rest was the will of the Force.

But one job remained. Even now, he couldn't be certain that the fight was truly over. For now, certainly. But by some pitiable combination of raw stubborness and Firrereo resilience, a spark still lingered. Even now, he could feel the Sith demanding that his broken body respond. And in time, perhaps it would listen. But it wouldn't come to that, for Jaidan would not leave an enemy like this. The man had fought a good and honorable fight; it would end honorably and clean. Calling his lightfoil to his hand once more, he reached out with his mind as he took the Jedi weapon in a reverse grip and raised it overhead.

"If you can still hear me, then please, listen well. You fought well, and I regret I'll not have the chance to know you better. But I know that control was taken from you, that this path was not of your own choosing. I've seen it before. Neither of us can change that now. But now, as it ends, take it back. Please, make the one choice that remains truly yours, and make it wisely."

And with that, the foil came stabbing cleanly down through the man's heart. Death would come quickly, cleanly. But the body died at a sluggish pace compared to the speed of a man's final thoughts. Perhaps he'd have time to dwell on a few final words more.

"Rest easy, warrior."

[Dutch]

Moved to Completed