Isan Goma vs. Norkos

[Kella]

Isan Goma vs. Norkos

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The sea lapped upon the ship, slowly devouring it. Black as liquid coal, the sea reflected the clouds above. Rain fell steadily from above, thrown to a slant by a brisk, steady wind.

Few would believe that only a few months ago, the harbor had been filled with the breath of wild color, living and thriving and bustling steadily about.

But now, the only voices were the winds, howling through the ragged remains. The only color was the bright red-orange fires, almost beacons in that they had been burning for weeks, fed by underground fuel wells. The once-unsinkable iron-side now barely stayed afloat in the water, gradually consumed by the ravages of rust, and the bite of acidic rain. Decay that had begun with the shudder of explosions, and the kick of machine-driven guns, had been accelerated by the caustic environment, and the harbor appeared years abandoned.

The wind began to blow a little stronger, the bones of the ship groaning with an aching sound, warning of the impending storm.

And yet, all is not quite as abandoned as it seems...

/_|_\

Isan, the challenger, shall go first. While I would prefer an attack in the first round, I understand the challenges of exposition. However, from the second round on, there must be an attack every round.

Note: I may award bonus points for creatively incorporating the environment and setting.

Six rounds. If you would like the fight extended, agree on the number of rounds, and then PM me with the new number.

And I think that's just about it. :3

Ready.

Set.

GO!

[Isan]

The caustic nature of the storm was evident as Isan roamed through the ravaged structures. The toxic rain fall upon his flesh and quickly steamed away. "It's beginning to feel a lot like home." Isan thought as he climb the skeletal structure of one of the tattered cranes that lined the harbor.

"A shame they felt the need to abandon after causing such lovely weather." Isan inhaled deeply taking in the choking air. To him it was invigorating. It smelled of bogan.

The aftermath of war and catastrophe always did. The fear, the anguish, the land screaming out in pain at the scars left behind. It was the way he liked it. Too much life weighed things down. The soft fragrance of bloom, the musk of wildlife... the smell of children. These things always muddled the senses to the true forces at work. It disgusted him.


He had come here with purpose, however, and not simply to take in the scenery. It was just a pleasant bonus of the trip and one he was planning on taking full leisure of. Unfortunately it seemed that someone had other plans.

He turned quickly as the darkside taint which shrouded the area was distressed by another presence. It seemed the reclaim would have to wait. No doubt the new arrival was here for a similar purpose as himself. The gathering of the knowledge as to how this environmental change had come about so rapidly would have to wait while he removed this lightside nuisance from his research ground.


The darkside taint of the area served well to cloak his presence as he climbed down the ladder to the ground where he slipped quietly behind the crashed arm of the crane. It served well to shadow his appearance as he got a better view of the arrival.

An interesting breed, to say the least, the traditional Jedi robes never the less revealed the true nature of the visitor. "Jedi." Isan hissed the words under his breath as he drew forth the dark energies that now blanketed the area empowering an illusion. A form mirroring his own was weaved forth to influence the mind of the Jedi and sent to approach him head on. The purpose was more as an initial distraction as Isan slipped from his place of hiding utilizing the Art of Weaving* to shift the flow of the force about him minimizing his own presence.


He neared the Jedi as he spoke through the illusion. "You're late, Jedi. You should have come months prior and stopped all of this. Is that how your order works now. Cleaning out the bodies instead of preventing them?" It was an open taunt. Meant to test the bounds of this Jedi's resolve. With any luck his bestial appearance was matched by an equally bestial temperament. It would make his task much easier. Though if not there was always the hard way.

*Art of the Small as reference

[somedude]

The blackness of this place was all-encompassing, penetrating. It reached out through the Force, tendrils seeping beyond mortal flesh and staining the very soul. The echoes of the dead screamed across the void between worlds, sending the darkness clawing like the desperate hands of the damned at the one who was called Norkos as he intruded on their misery. Their pitiful wails were carried on the wind, whispers of the dark atrocities that had taken place in this forsaken port. None living were permitted here, among the lost souls who once had filled this place with the flow of life. No voices of life were borne by the cruel wind.

But, that was not so. There was life here. It was as black as the very air, but it was here. Norkos’ powerful nose caught the whispered scent of Man as it twisted through the air; his high ears twisted and turned, trying to catch the hint of a footstep on the hollow, rusted metal. But alas, the thundering rain and creaking of the great ship proved too much interference. Norkos stretched out with the Force, casting what little senses he had through the entrapping metal, seeking out this man.

No, this adversary was of a different sort. Neither sense nor sound betrayed its position; there was only scent. It occurred to Norkos, through the ancient instinct of the beast, that this was the hunt. And he was prey.

Norkos stood, silent, vigilant, alone among the rusted metal. His senses worked in tandem, relentlessly seeking out the man who stalked him. The cold rain stung at his exposed skin, his thick fur matting against his flesh. His black beetle eyes were closed, freeing precious brain power for his ears and nostrils. As all creatures know, ere the end, this day he would either struggle for his survival or be consumed in the effort; he needed every advantage if he were to survive.

”Jedi”

A dark hiss penetrated the cacophony of surrounding noise. Norkos had to will his ears not to rotate in that direction; he was outmatched in unfamiliar territory, and his senses were his last advantage. He must not lose that, or else he would soon join his family in their endless sleep.

Faintly, he could hear small footsteps. The hunter was nearing.

How close?

What direction?

He could not tell.

The scent of manflesh was stronger now; it was of power, and of death. A demon of the night. A warrior of darkness.

It was here.

Norkos’s eyes flew open to behold his predator, who so willingly gave up his advantage.

This man looked weak; a scrawny specimen of human. Lank black hair and bony hands. Norkos sniffed deep, unimpressed with this hunter who had so willingly given up stealth.

But no. Something was wrong. The smell of Man was as powerful as ever, but it did not come from this thing. It was elsewhere, immutable. This creature smelt of nothing. It made no sound. Not even a release in air. Nothing living was so still, so silent. Nothing real.

Yet it spoke.

“You’re late, Jedi. You should have come months prior and stopped all of this. Is that how your order works now. Cleaning out the bodies instead of preventing them?"

The thing’s mouth moved with the words, but it seemed not to utter them. The sound was hollow, as though coming from a great distance, but near. Something was wrong.

Norkos dropped his shield from his back, and readied it on his arm. “Jedi sent, no,” His reply was choked out in an unfamiliar tongue; the language of humans. He raised his spear and levelled it at the thing, unmoving. “Not real.” He snarled, baring his many sharp teeth. “Not living.”

[Kella]

I.

Isan Groma:

Effort: 5/5 -- I can see you put a good bit of thought into your post, and you went to the trouble of coming up with a very good reason for Isan to be there. Splendid. ^^

Fairness: 5/5 -- Your Force Illusion was well-used, and it gave Norkos something to respond to.

Detail: 4/5 -- The setting and emotions were vividly represented, but I would have liked at least a few details about Isan's appearance.

Coolness: 2/5 -- I work my coolness from the ground up, instead of the up down, so it's going to seem low, because I'm actually adding points for specific moments of cool, as opposed to the other areas, which are worked much more big-picture.

Bonus: 2/2 -- Worked the setting's backstory into your Character's reason for being there, and kept well with the mood set by the place. ^^ Verreh nice.


`'`'`'`'`'|'`'`'`'`'`'`


Norkos:

Effort: 5/5 -- Your effort was apparent as well, and a fine post you've made.

Fairness: 5/5 -- You don't over-power Norkos's ability to immediately sense the location of his adversary, and your thwarting of the Force Illusion was very thoughtful, and quite clever.

Detail: 4/5 -- Docking a point here, because you didn't mention why Norkos was there, or what his purposes were, but you did do a splendid job of peppering in small references of Norkos's anatomy to give the reader the important details, without over-describing.

Coolness: 3/5 -- Loved the first paragraph here, his initial sensing of the other person, and, of course, the lovely broken-basic.

Bonus: 2/2 -- For playing with the atmosphere of the local, while putting a good bit of Norkos's personality into it, really bringing the reader along with his thoughts.

___/\___

Comments: Awesome posts, you two. xD Like really, really awesome. >.> Both your first paragraphs were SO epic, great way to kick it off. I'm totally looking forward to this. ^^ And, as tempting as it would be to just give you all 5s, all the time... then you might get lazy. And that would make me sad. v.v

Totals:

Isan: 18

Norkos: 19

Round Two begins.

[Isan]

The Jedi's natural senses were strong. Undoubtedly he his bestial appearance was not simply aesthetics. He had lived as a beast and it was in this way he would undoubtedly strike. Already he could see the effects. It was slight. Not nearly the anger he had hoped to instil. It seemed more a light frustration that he had fallen, if but for a moment, to a casual trick.

Isan peered at his adversaries tail as he outstretched his arms. His thin fingers forming into a cup as he gathered the acidic liquid falling from the sky as he moved slowly closer. With the Art of Weaving he focused on the liquid exciting its caustic nature by pulling out the benign moisture toward his palms letting the viscous brew rest above it.

A shrill whistle was emited from Isan's thin lips in hopes of catching the attention of the Jedi as he swept his hands forward letting the acid fly from his palms toward the opponents head and midsection. A splash of flesh evaporating liquid meant to at the least cause greater distraction and pain and at the most disable the Jedi and hamper his ability to put up a fight.

As the purified acid flew forth Isan had greater plans as he reach out calling upon bogan to draw a piece of rubble toward the Jedi before him. The ground was littered with plenty of wasted metal that with the proper coercion could easily be turned into a large projectile. Far be it from Isan to let the Jedi discover this first.

Isan enjoyed giving people choices. Even if the choice was searing acid or blunt force trauma. In fact he was simply challenging the mind of the opponent. Offering before him a puzzle. Testing his instinct and how he worked around it. It was an intricate game to him. Even as he drew upon the bogan to produce these challenges his dark eyes remained on the Jedi. Analysing him. Judging his reaction time and his solutions to what was presented before him. He examined his emotional reaction as well. Searching for that moment of fear. That first twitch of pain. The moment when anger showed in that flare of the nostril and furrowing of the brow.

If these showed it was then he would know that this Jedi would fall easily at the will of the Bogan. If he could raise those emotions and drive the beast before him into a frenzy of pure instinct then he would have succeeded. Then he would have served the Bogan well and open the gate of power within the Jedi's own soul. The gate to a well of darkside power which Isan could turn in on his opponent and tear the Jedi's mind apart.

[somedude]

A high, sharp whistle penetrated the creeping sounds of death that filled that horrible place, attracting the attention of Norkos’ powerful ears. As they, great sonar dishes of nature, turned to pinpoint the source, they detected another sound: the dull and deadly hiss of immensely powerful acid. He could hear as the spray passed through each individual droplet of rain, the release of sound energy as concentrated acid ripped through the weaker acid of the rain, tearing them apart on a molecular level. The finer points of the chemistry eluded him, as did the blunter points, but he knew enough from that sound to act.

With instincts born from a thousand generations of hunters, honed by the training of the Jedi, perfected by twenty years on the plains, and accented by the mysterious power of the Force, Norkos acted.

In a single, fluid motion, the wolf-man twirled on his foot, robes whirling behind him, droplets of water flying off into the distant darkness, as his mighty forearm raised a shield of impenetrable beskar forward, and dropped to the ground. Shield and knee hit the ground simultaneously, deeply impacting the corroded mud and splattering its substance over everything in the vicinity, only a fraction of an instant before the deadly liquid made contact with the dead metal.

The acid was strong, but it was not strong enough to penetrate the iron of Mandalore. The natural pigments of the Nelvaanian, the dyes made from the crushed flowers of Istenno, they were consumed in mere instants, but the shield beneath it was barely scratched.

No sooner had the last of the acid splattered against the image of the snarling warrior spirit that the mighty clang of metal on metal jarred his arm; his enemy was obviously calling on the Force, bidding it to throw a piece of debris at him. But the pain was not great enough to keep Norkos down; within the blink of an eye he was back on his feet. His enemy had set the stage, there was to be no restraint in this hunt.

The great wolf drew himself up to his full height and roared mightily, primally. On the plains of his homeland this sound would have sent the earth shaking, life departing. In this barren place it only faintly disturbed the lifeless metal, but Norkos poured his soul into that sound. It was the way of the hunted; tell your enemy that you do not fear death, that you are powerful. I am Norkos. I am warrior. I am Jedi.

The echo from the primal scream had not yet dissipated when Norkos hefted the spear of his homeland, the darda, and hurled it at the location of his enemy.

The echo had still not dissipated when Norkos fell to his front paws and launched himself into a run, dodging and leaping around the scattered metal that littered the ground, his claws struggling to find purchase in the mud. This enemy was a warrior of the Force, but such was not Norkos' way. He was a warrior of nature, and if necessary he would tear this foe limb from limb.

[Kella]

II.

Isan Groma:

Effort: 5/5 -- A bit of ingenuity with the Acid thing, always good to see. :3

Fairness: 4/5 -- One point off for presenting the attack as an either/or, and also for Isan's distance from Norkos... it's not quite clear.

Detail: 3/5 -- Same as above, spatially, I'm not quite sure where Isan is. The lack of description of the rubble also bothered me... it's important to how Norkos will face it or dodge it. Also would have loved some more imagery, but you answered all but the aforementioned of the important questions.

Coolness: 3/5 -- For the acid trick, and the mentions of Borgon. :3 Oh, and the analytical mindset.

Bonus: 0/2 -- A nice, solid little post. :3

`'`'`'`'`'|'`'`'`'`'`'`


Norkos:

Effort: 5/5 -- Verreh shiny. :3

Fairness: 5/5 -- Your dodges were fair, your attack specific, but not power-played.

Detail: 5/5 -- Splendid imagery in your first paragraph, and then consistently throughout the post. You articulate the movements efficiently, and capture the reader.

Coolness: 4/5 -- For the imagery of the first paragraph, the wit of its last sentence, the image of the paint being burned off the shield, and the primal aura you maintained in Norkos's attack.

Bonus: 0/2 -- Also a solid, ossimful post. :3

___/\___

Comments: You guys are keeping up the good pace, and I'm lovin' it! Keep the awesome posts comin'.

Totals:

Isan: 18+15 33

Norkos: 19+19 38

Round Three begins.

[Isan]

The howl shook the world around him, yet Isan was unshaken. The howls of the winds of Vjun were often more terrifying that the wild howl. He was born into an environment that served to mettle the soul and it had played the part well. Isan did not know fear. He did not know disease. He felt them, but he did not view them as such. To him these were simple stirrings of the Bogan inciting him to act. They spurred in him quick thought and he analysed the situation.

The spear flew through the air and Isan dropped down as it flew near brushing through his hair. His brow was furrowed as he watched the beastly Jedi begin to charge. His features betrayed little of his emotional state as his eyes observed the charge.

Though he could have easily stepped away from the spear and let it pass by Isan wanted to be closer to the ground. He wanted his adversary to believe his drop was a simple dodge. In truth his hands acted as a channel for the force as he fed it into the ground. The art of weaving had many applications and Isan had worked hard to understand the depths of the gift.

As he channeled the force he warped the make-up of the ground. The solid, compact bonds of soil were to give way and what appeared as solid ground was in fact of the consistency of quicksand. The trap spread forth in a range of a mere four feet, but that would be enough to unsettle the charge and work its purpose.

Isan's eyes were fixed on the Jedi as he rushed forward. He watched as he came nearer and nearer. Soon he was upon the trap and Isan moved as if he were dodging from the impending strike. Though as he moved he reach out again with the force to play on the Jedi's mind. It was not an exact attack or image. It was more a myriad of sound and voices meant to bewilder him for but a moment to distract him from Isan's movement and allow him to simply stumble into the trap.

Isan, now standing, watched the Jedi. He was prepared for whatever may come next.