Corr
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You can lead a fool to knowledge but you can't make him think.
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Affiliation: Clan Vhett
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Post by Corr on Jun 18, 2013 7:22:10 GMT -8
Rhen Var: Rocky Precipice Our duelists find themselves in a frightening predicament. Not only do they have to fight one another, but they have to be graceful and gentle while doing so. With each step one would feel the rocks shift beneath their foot, and one wrong move could cause one to lose their footing, a sure death sentence for the unwary duelist. Not only that, but a sheer precipice lies to one side of the combatants. With no bottom in sight and no outcropping ledges, falling over this particular edge would be fatal.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2013 15:59:38 GMT -8
The rocky precipice howled in the wind, the snow blustering in blinding flurries in the gale. Here, high above the ground, sat Dante - cross legged on a rock. It had taken many days for him to climb the mountain and come to the precipice, a some twenty five meter in diameter stretch of ground near the top of the mountain...on one side the ground fell away to the sheerest of cliffs, offering no hand holds should one fall, on the other, a jagged and craggy cliff stretched high into the sky...offering no escape.Underfoot, stretching between the crag and the precipice, was the worst of footings - loose rocks of various sizes, many iced over, all mobile and treacherous. In the exact center though, there was a larger than normal rock, somewhat flat...this is where Dante had taken his reprieve.
He wore his SureGrip knee high climbing boots (who wouldn't, when climbing such a mountain?) along with rather standard attire...a pair of shell spider silk pants, and a double breasted shell spider silk tunic - both a drab dual tone gray and dark brown, and both with a tomoun wool lining. The clothing themselves were relatively light and loose...allowing for a free range of movement, though at the same time offering moderate protection despite their somewhat humble appearances - the wool in the clothing kept him warm despite the biting cold. On his forearms, over his clothing, he wore his characteristic dual vambraces - phrik he had decided on for this trek - which covered his elbows to the back of his wrist wrist. Lightweight, the vambraces had hindered his climb very little on his way up - indeed, the two inch claws attached across the hand plate had helped quite a bit; when he had bought them, he thought the bear claw motif was somewhat silly...it was only now that he appreciated their sharp bite into the ice and stone, the double row of one inch spikes across the back of the vambrace also helping as well (Essentially this). Beyond this, he carried no other weapons save his electrum inlaid phrik Lightfoil, complete with red rope tassel, clipped to his left hip. His dress was light and functional, designed for movement...but, also, for durability.
He sat cross legged on the stone...meditating quietly...the force flowing through him...humming its song within him. The climb up, in such light clothing, had required the use of raising his body heat to compensate - a Matukai variant of Tapas - which allowed him to feel the cold temperatures without ill effect. Keeping the effect going was an easy feat of concentration for him - indeed, he barely had to concentrate on it...the reliance of the force to hold his cross legged position for...had it been hours now?...heating him naturally. Perhaps this would be a different story should he have to move more quickly. But here, on the sheer mountain, that was doubtful...he had come here to meditate...and meditate he would. Master of the Mountain the locals called him...perhaps that would be enough to keep curious travelers at bay. Perhaps.
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Post by Zik Kine on Jun 19, 2013 17:36:26 GMT -8
*Such rumors, however, would not keep one young man from his journey. Unlike Dante, Zik had no name to the locals. Those that saw him wandering the frozen wastes saw him as an image of snow. Clad in all white cloth, the phrik armor that he did wear, the plates on his robotic arm, the gauntlet on his left hand, and the shin plates, were a matte silver color, with a quarter inch of polished silver around the edges. The tips of his robotic fingers came to sharp, blade like claws. A faceless mask painted white covering his face from the cold. Abody suit under his clothing helped to keep him warm, though it was a luxury the young echani was not in great need of, having trained often in the harsh cold.
Covered in a white cloak that billowed around him, Zik stepped gracefully across the stone path, only glimpses of his robotic arm and mask showing as the wind whipped around. He sensed someone ahead, having been using the Force to guide him all this time, it was an easy feat. Though just out of eye sight, it did not seem the person ahead could also sense him. Deeming it a lost local, or perhaps this "Master of the mountain" people whispered of, Zik kept moving, determined that no one get in his way.
As he stepped into sight of the man, the image of Zik would remain distorted. Through the flurried winds, and Ziks choice of attire, it would appear to the superstitious as if the snow and planet itself had summoned a guardian for itself. He quietly stepped on to the large round rock and stopped, peering on at the man in meditation. He said nothing, and for the time being made no move against the man, though unseen and at the ready under his cloak, a lightsaber in his left hand. Zik let out a low grunt, purposely announcing his presence.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2013 18:27:25 GMT -8
The grunt from behind him took Dante out of his meditation...not out of surprise, but annoyance; like someone surfacing from the water, he broke from the isolation in his mind to return to his conscious thoughts. Standing and turning, Dante silently eyed the figure that stood aways from him...then sighed slightly. The figure appeared almost...some amalgamation of man and snow; more likely some traveler...seeking the wonders of the force, utterly oblivious to the implications they sought. Something gave Dante pause though...the mans demeanor, his poise, this was someone who had purposely come here...this was someone who was on guard. As the wind whipped about the pair, Dante seemed to glimpse a mask, and some kind of armored arm...though he couldn't make it out clearly. Standing there before the man...Dante decided to take his measure. Holding out a hand to the being, he gestured for the man to wait...
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Post by Zik Kine on Jun 19, 2013 19:21:47 GMT -8
*Zik was just about to keep moving past until Dante raised a hand. Zik remained silent, white eyes combing over the man before him. Still hidden under his cloak, Zik clipped his saber to his belt, the robotic arm reach up to grasp the hilt that stood out over his right shoulder. He had not seen enough of the man moving to asses any physical weaknesses, but Zik had no intention of letting the man get close enough to harm him before finding at least one. Zik stepped leg over leg, skirting around the side of the flat rock they stood on, putting his back to the cliff that jutted up. Zik had to admit to himself that under any other circumstance, the view would have been breath taking, but this was no longer the time or place.
Zik had done as the strangers gesture requested, though probably in not as friendly away as his company had hoped. Zik slid his left foot and hand forward, dropping into a classic ready stance of the echani tiers for someone using only one weapon with one hand. His right leg lowered just a bit, giving his form a slanted look. If it was not clear he was a real person before, that stance would be a dead give away to anyone with extensive martial training.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2013 19:39:09 GMT -8
The man continued to surprise Dante, holstering a smallish weapon - what Dante assumed to be some kind of lightweapon - before slowly moving around to have his back against the jagged cliff that rose above. Dante only bent and picked up an orange sized rock and closed his eyes once more, adopting an easy and comfortable stance...immersing himself in the force once more, concentrating on the rock as a meditation aid. Some minutes passed...and Dante continued to meditate, until, finally, the wind died down, the snow abated...and a gentle breeze settled in amongst the combatants. The time had come. Dante's eyes opened, and he inclined his head.
"The force works in mysterious ways...sometimes it tests us, sometimes it lets us rest...for still others, there is no difference in the resting and the testing...life is a constant crucible - a forge made of life itself - for us, this is how it is. Both of us came to find something, myself inner peace, yourself...who knows. The force has brought us together though - here in the wastes - for another test. Are you ready for the crucible?"
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Post by Zik Kine on Jun 20, 2013 5:11:50 GMT -8
*Zik smiled under his mask, not becuase he was happy for a fight, but because of the strangers words. Once upon a time in Nystao, Zik had told one of his favorite students something very similar. Finally, Zik drew the black blade from over his shoulder. A lovely and clearly well crafted sword with a flared, diamond shaped tip. Holding the sword out and somewhat behind him, the stance proved to be a bit odd without a second weapon though.*I am no stranger to the heat...*And no sooner did he finish speaking was he pushing his legs forward. Even without the augmentation of the force, he speed was staggering to most beings. Leading with his left hand, he started to turn his body to the left, following through with a diagonal upward swing of his sword.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 25, 2013 7:51:24 GMT -8
*Sudennly, as Zik charges forward, Dante fades into nothingness with a wry smile on his lips...becoming as intangible as the snow, you Sudennly wonder If he had been there to begin with...*
(Forfeiting due to a sudden influx of RL...stuff. Go on to victory Zik!)
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor 
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
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Post by Deadniquitous on Jul 4, 2013 6:29:31 GMT -8
Winner: Zik due to forfeit. Hopefully the Second round is a little better for you.
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
