Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

As Katray moved through the hallways of Gerba’s palace he was able to ascertain that there were twelve targets he needed to eliminate. Katray had a direct link to the security system in Gerba’s palace so he was able to uplink and search the displays to find any stragglers.

He pinpointed the location of each and marked them in order of location. The closest was a Bith male who was standing on a balcony consuming more than his fair share of free alcohol. The Bith was so preoccupied with reciting his latest story of bravery that he didn’t even notice Katray approach.

Katray picked up the Bith by his head and tossed him over the edge of the balcony. The now activated wall cannons quickly picked up on the all too close target and filled him full of holes. Katray didn’t even stop to watch, he didn’t need to, his link to the security cams confirmed the kill as he moved on.

The next contestant was also on one of the balconies but further around. This one had seen Katray and his easy kill. Immediately the Ithorian moved to the edge of the Battledome. Naturally slower than most humanoids, Ithorians used other tactics to beat their prey. This one began to use his four throats in an attempt to scream. Such a scream when projected correctly could result in deafening and concussing a victim.

However Katray knew what the Ithorian was trying to do and shot him in his four throats. The Ithorian clasped at his wounds but one of the other occupiers of the balcony gave him a swift kick sending him over the side. Again the wall cannons finished the job.

Katray moved on, systematically he removed each another five contestants. By this time the remaining contestants had either gone into hiding or finally joined the Battledome.


Nelba the Hutt sat within his metal Shell. For many years his electronic systems and ability to use his weapons had been shut down. But now as he felt himself lowered to the ground he heard the hum of electronics come online. His weapons began to charge with reactivation.

The view screen came up and showed him the carnage outside. “So my cousin did build his Battledome. What a fool.”

Nelba could see that he was already being approached by various scum. His blasters were still down but the Shell Hutt had other weapons more primitive that worked just fine. Blades were always handy, but for now he’d have to wait until the fools drew closer.

BFFC Moderator
It was like thousands of voices cried out for a sequel and were suddenly silenced...

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

What?? Kal thought to himself.  They’re not BOTH hunters??  I’m lucky, the Mandalorian might make an even closer ally then I thought.  How did a Mando get himself stuck in such a situation anyway??  Oh, Wait!  There was one, maybe even two of them in my cell block!  Maybe this is one of them; he does sound familiar. 

“I understand.  When the time comes, let the best of us win.  Until then, we shall fight together as one.”

The lizard man didn’t seem all that happy still, but was apparently satisfied for the moment.  “Very well” he said.  “Lets break out those hidden supplies and get something to eat.  It’s going to be a long day.”

*hope that works guys  big_smile *

If you run, I can track you.  If you hide, I will find you.  If you fight, I will watch you fall......

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

nah, looks good Kelborn. I'll need an ally after I split with Ralin.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

(Yes you will, with Mandal being so unhappy with you   tongue big_smile )

If you run, I can track you.  If you hide, I will find you.  If you fight, I will watch you fall......

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Ok, this isn't dying yet.

"Do we have an underssstanding?” Kal stared at Dra'kash. "Yes, we do. But I will warn you--vengeance and freedom will be mine, and all that stands in my way shall fall under my blade. You want to win this contest--but at the end, there will be no winners--Gerba will have lost, and I will be free again. Your decision will come then."

Drak'ash stared back. "Do no be too confident, Kal Goran. I am as determined to win as you are to survive."

"I doubt that--and do not underestimate the wrath of a Mandalorian. Anyways, let us go--we should not stay in one place too long. Shistavanen, what is your name?"

"Kel’Dar’Ish. And yours?"

"Kal Goran"


"Then let us hunt. I----"

Gerbas voice boomed over the stadium. “Attention, attention! Many of you have heard of my rebellious cousin Nelba the Hutt. I’m sure you’re also fully aware that he has a bounty on his head of three million credits from Black Sun. He has been my guest for some time, but now he will join the Battledome and since all is recorded, the one who takes him down will be able to claim their reward with Black Sun, after all his bounty is for death.”

Kal looked at his allies.  "It seems there is a new target--should we pursue it, or wait for others to throw themselves into death?"

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

"It seems there is a new target--should we pursue it, or wait for others to throw themselves into death?"

Dra'Kash's scaly lips pulled back in a reptilian grin.  "Let's hunt."

*Hey Werda, lets not be too eager to set up a breaking point in the team, unless of course you have something in mind the requires it.  I'm more then willing to switch my goals of winning becomes an unrealistic option or if I see Gerba as having double crossed us *and somehow I get the notion that wouldn't exactly be beyond his 'moral code' *  Lets just roll with it until we see where this leads


"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

No, it wouldn't. Sorry, but you did seem to have your character dead-set on winning, and I knew our different goals would clash. I didn't have us planning on splitting any time soon. Sorry, but there would be a conflict sooner or later--I thought it was set up to make that clear. If things lead to where we can stay together, that would be awesome.

I'll try to post later tonight, if I can.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Werda Verd wrote:

No, it wouldn't. Sorry, but you did seem to have your character dead-set on winning, and I knew our different goals would clash. I didn't have us planning on splitting any time soon. Sorry, but there would be a conflict sooner or later--I thought it was set up to make that clear. If things lead to where we can stay together, that would be awesome.

I'll try to post later tonight, if I can.

**Hey, no prob ner vod.  I agree, it is an alliance based on serving each other's ends while knowing we WILL at some point be enemies...or at leat that would be their mind set right now.  And I was clear that winning was HIS objective, but I'm not so rigid  tongue  I just wanted to let you know his goals and my future plottings aren't exactly the same, and things will likely happen that turns his goal from winning the contest to just escaping it.  Looking forward to your post  big_smile**

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Drak'ash grinned. "Letz hunt."

Kal nodded. "Good. But we still need to be wary--a bounty that size will draw every prisoner and hunter in the arena. Charging in, even with the three of us, will get someone killed--not just them, though."

Kel nodded. "Hunting foolishly serves no purpose. I hear heavy fire coming from the direction of the open fields."

Drak'ash checked the charge on his rifle. "Then let us go."


The three arrived at the seen of the bloodbath with little difficulty, finding absolute chaos. Dozens of prisoners were fighting a handful of hunters, all centered around a monstrous metal shape. "A Shell Hut! This will be harder than I thought." Kal exclaimed, watching as Nelba cut a prisoner in half with a blade, and fired from several spots in his armor.

"Perhaps. But even getting to him will present the larger challenge." Drak'ash readied his weapons. "How do we attack."

"Let us pick off the hunters first--they are the more dangerous problems, and the fewer the better for us. Then we can move in close."

a little short, but I'm tired. Anyways, its done.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

((Enjoy, ye action-starved RPers.))


Nossk’s vibroaxe tore a Bartokk to his right clean in half; his machete opened a long gash across the chest of one to his left; the two blades came together and crushed a third darting right in front of him into the ground; it was a shame, though, that for all his persistence, he couldn’t move fast enough to slay the two to his rear. The pair of insects each latched onto one of his legs, and in perfect synchronization pulled the Trandoshan’s feet out from under him. The Scorekeeper-hallucination’s jab about spending so much time on the floor flared across Nossk’s mind as he went down.
The moment he hit the duracrete, the rest of the swarm was on him like flies to rotting flesh. There was no way he could fight back this time; his arms were pinned firmly to the ground; Bartokk slashed at his open face as he tried to snap his jaws onto them; his entire body was immobilized by the mass of chitin and buzzing insectoids, and the feeling he’d been disregarding since descending the cellar stairs returned with such ferocity that it was impossible to ignore.

This was it. Maybe it had been close before, but now it had truly arrived. His train had just ground to a halt, and it was his time to board. His death was happening - right here, right now.

He felt disappointment, above all, that his favor with the Scorekeeper should end so abruptly moments before his demise. Then confusion rose above shame. Much of the weight pressing down on him was suddenly gone, though at least a dozen of the little bastards remained fastened to his immovable limbs. Nossk turned his head and tried to squint through the blood running into his eyes from his cut forehead at what had caused the rest of the swarm to clear away from him. Finally he saw, and despite the stinging blood that streamed into his sockets, his eyes widened.

Off to the side stood a single Bartokk, physically no different from the dozens that filled the basement, yet exceedingly noticeable among its kin. The others gave this one a wide berth, clearing around it and Nossk and the dozen or so insects holding him down a circle of freakish tranquility. The omnipresent humming of the swarm was still there, but the Bartokk had ceased their ravenous attacks on the hemorrhaging Trandoshan, and seemed perfectly content with keeping him still.

After all, it wasn’t as if the insectoid that had approached Nossk’s struggling body knew how to aim the shotgun that it now held in its hands with any semblance of accuracy. It wouldn’t matter here, though, not if he was lying motionless on the ground and the damned bug was this close.

How the hell is it even going to use that thing? It’s just a fracking bug! Nossk thought incredulously. Even as he tried to assure himself that such a primitive creature couldn’t possibly work a firearm (some might’ve wondered the same about him), he found himself trying to remember if he’d pumped the shotgun before it was torn from his hands. As usual, he hadn’t the slightest idea.

The incessant, insectoid whine that filled the confines of that God-forsaken cellar increased as the Bartokk raised Nossk’s slugthrower. As if the shame of being killed by a hive of insects wasn’t enough, it would be done with his own weapon. The Scorekeeper would make his afterlife hell.

Nossk’s bleak hope that the Bartokk wouldn’t be capable of operating a weapon winked out as the creature, struggling at first, worked the slugthrower’s pump-action, and pointed the wide barrel at Nossk’s prone form. Rather than close his eyes and accept his fate, the Trandoshan glared with pure, wicked revulsion at his executioner. Some of the monstrosities holding his limbs trembled as their weak telepathy felt his hatred.

And now, Nossk thought, snarling even in his own mind, it all ends.

Three slugthrower shells discharged in the dusty, bloody basement, and Nossk wondered what it would feel like to die.

But fate would have its way over what should be, or what could’ve taken place in that cellar, or what logic would dictate was supposed to happen. And fate decided that Nossk wasn’t meant to expire just yet.

The shotgun-wielding Bartokk was hammered back into a sheet-covered wardrobe, a neat trio of spouting bullet wounds blasted through its thin abdomen. In unison, the pitch of the swarm’s buzzing rose noticeably. In unison, they turned to identify the attacker. In unison, their compound eyes fell upon Captain Demarq, holding Nossk’s smoking pistol in his uninjured hand.

A half dozen more gunshots erupted from the huge handgun, and suddenly four of the Bartokk on top of Nossk seemed to disappear. For a few seconds the swarm was wholly focused on the human pirate captain they’d previously forgotten about, and in that window, Nossk forced himself to move. Being restrained had let some of the adrenaline coursing through him wear off, and the countless wounds covering his body started coming to his attention. The Trandoshan wrenched his arms and legs free of the distracted Bartokk, wincing at the pain that flared through his body.

Nossk rolled over on to his stomach and pushed himself off the ground. He struggled to get his wounded legs under him, somehow managed the feat, and forced them to drive towards the human that might have just saved his life. The powerful legs that pushed the Trandoshan forward screeched in protest at the activity; blood still poured freely from where one of the Bartokk had stabbed into his thigh, and dozens of other smaller gashes adorned his lower legs. Still, Nossk ordered them to keep running, pumping up and down like gory, failing pistons.

The Trandoshan bent to scoop up his shotgun from the bullet-ridden Bartokk corpse, and almost tripped over his own feet. He recovered, shouldered clumsily through a pair of the insects, and made a beeline for Demarq, a name he still didn’t know. He found that he could no longer feel his legs, but his brain told them to move just the same; and move they did, stubbornly refusing to accept the fact that they shouldn’t be able to support the reptile above them.

The nature of the Bartokk’s “hive mind” had a few rather interesting aspects to it. Not only did the connection allow them to share feelings and messages between them, but it shared their very intelligence as well. How smart a group of Bartokk was literally depended on how many of their kind were within a certain distance. The kills that Nossk and Demarq had made certainly thinned their ranks to some degree, but compared to the strength of the entire swarm, no significant impact in their brainpower had occurred. What did happen however, and this was absolutely vital to the pair’s unlikely survival, was the onset of a slight sluggishness in the swarm’s reaction time. While they were still processing that another threat existed off towards the door, and that the one they were about to execute was now making a break for it, Nossk had already sprinted a full 5 meters on what should have been crippled legs. Finally the pack of monstrosities leapt, all at once, into pursuit of their reptilian prey, but it would be too late. The Trandoshan’s miraculous pace provided him with too much of a head start for them to catch him before he reached Demarq, and the double umbilical doors behind him that opened into the fake house’s backyard. What they could possibly do once they reached the surface, neither of them knew; the odds were that the swarm would simply follow them out, kill them, and move on to terrorize other fighters in the Battledome, but for now even Nossk’s hectic and dense mind acknowledged that they had no other choice.

Blood dripped from the Trandoshan’s forehead into his eyes, stinging painfully and forcing him to shut his eyes against the rivulets of his own precious life-sustaining fluid. He charged blindly onwards, barreling in a straight line like a runaway train. Demarq saw him coming, and it was a good thing too; if he hadn’t, the blinded lizard-man would probably have blasted right through him.

The pirate captain sidestepped as the crazed reptile hurtled past him, staring in awe as the Trandoshan not only overshot him, but kept going and plowed straight through the double doors to the surface. The lock ripped free of the wooden doors as the massive reptilian crashed into it, pouring sunlight into the dark cellar. Demarq was after him in a flash.

Nossk’s incredulous rampage came to an abrupt end on the other side of the doorway as his legs finally gave in. The Trandoshan collapsed on a well-kept flowerbed that had no business being in a bloodbath like this. Demarq leapt from the cellar, firing Nossk’s pistol behind him as he dove beside the Trandoshan. He glanced over to appraise the prone lizard, hoping the brute was still alive and potentially of use. The pirate scanned the blood-soaked body quickly, then returned his gaze to the basement door.

The rest will be coming out any second now. Demarq thought, wondering how many rounds were left in the Trandoshan’s big handgun. He reached over and groped at Nossk’s pistol-belt, feeling for an extra magazine. As he fumbled through the ammunition pouches his hand touched something round, heavy, and cold. No…it can’t be. There’s no way he’d have some and not have used one already.

Captain Demarq’s hand returned from the ammo pouch clutching one of Nossk’s fragmentation grenades.

He stared at it blankly for a precious moment, amazed.

“And when were you planning on using these!?” Demarq yelled at the Trandoshan, who appeared to have lapsed into unconsciousness.

Shaking his head in exasperation, the pirate got to his feet and yanked the pin from the explosive device. The first of the Bartokk burst from the doorway just as the grenade sailed past it into the basement – it clattered to a halt among the tightly-packed swarm of insectoids. The single bug that had emerged from the cellar turned in time to see a huge fireball engulf most of his brethren; Demarq emptied the last of the slugthrower clip into its back.

A faint buzzing still emanated from the basement, but it was out of sync and barely audible. The Bartokk’s intelligence had been reduced to well below sentient level, and their organization was in tatters. What numbers remained didn’t dare stray from the hellish basement, effectively making Demarq and his Trandoshan target’s escape a success – if Nossk managed to stay alive that was.

Already Demarq was tearing strips from Nossk’s prison coveralls (his machete and vibroaxe had been left in the cellar, and he wouldn’t dare venture back to that place) and using them to bind the Trandoshan’s many, many wounds before he lost too much blood to recover from. He’d heard that their kind had amazing regenerative abilities, and Demarq was banking on that capability to keep his soon-to-be enforcer alive. In the meantime the cacophony of their battle should serve to keep other combatants away from the house, giving them at least a little time to regroup, and Nossk some time to recover.

“You really are an idiot.” Demarq said casually to the unconscious body, amazed that he could have completely forgotten about his own grenades. But you’re one tough sithspawn, I’ll give you that – and lucky for you, that’s just what I need.


Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

"It seems I misunderstood the risk of venturing down here." Flying W held his hand over one eye in concentration, even the white blood could affect him,"I confused us both, the moment we ventured down here I lost control. The remains here played out a fantasy we might not have escaped from."
They had separated from the group, and investigated that ominous buzzing sound. No allies but themselves once more. But in doing so had started a lie just in entering the door. The blood, the gore had jump started Flying W's latent abilities and lead them along stunningly.
Or at least it had Rando going along for the ride, Flying W didn't appear too troubled.
"But at least you got to a play the hero for a little while," W snickered. Rando had doubts it had been an accident.
"We're in a basement, insoles deep in blood and guts. What did we come down here for?" Rando readjusted the cycler strap anxiously.
"Oh, lookin' around. I was hoping we could show up in time to save a couple of sentient's lives. Get some actual allies. Rather than unstable killers and thieves..." Flying W laughed as he began to ascend to the top floor once more," But seriously, white blood just isn't to my tastes."
They exited the house, Flying W leading them along by a trail of blood droplets. They'd find a lizard, or another victim.
(My last post had Rando and Flying W leaving Mel's group and going into the same building as Scifi and Gunslinger. Since you rewrote that part I changed the end result as them coming in after the fact but seeing themselves fighting from an overreaction to the blood.)
(Hopefully not written too terribly.)

I'll abdicate at the drop of a hat
(BFFC Moderator)

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

**Sorry for the lack of posting, been sick - then addicted to KOTOR 2**

Nelba was half starved, his cousin had fed him on only half rotten prawns and something that had once been water. As the blades of the Shell Hutt sliced through the stupider victims of the Battledome Nelba suddenly felt hunger pangs. The blood was whetting his appetite. The small part of him that was still sane was repulse by the idea, but base instinct overruled.

A chunk of flesh hit the side of Nelba’s view port and he used a claw to retrieve the fleshy mess that had once been part of a Zeltron.


Tressah peered out the window at the massacre outside. “A Shell Hutt, why would Gerba throw in a Shell Hutt?”

Otto shrugged, “He’s demented, there’s no logic in anything he does.”

“True enough,” Tressah replied. She almost gagged as she saw that the Shell Hutt had taken a piece of Zeltron flesh into his shell. She could see the less the podgy face as he devoured it. “Oh that’s just wrong.”

“What?” Otto asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Tressah replied. She stopped for a moment. “Notice that everyone is focussing on the Shell Hutt or the Dragons?”

“Does that really surprise you?” Otto replied with a roll of his eyes.

“No, but this could be a good opportunity to get to the jetpacks.” Tressah pointed out.

Otto laughed, “They’re probably rigged to blow.”

“They’re the only reasonable way out of here,” Tressah said as she placed her hands on her hips.

“You’ll die before getting out of here.” Otto said as he checked his pistol.

“It’s worth a shot,” Tressah said with growing annoyance.

Otto shrugged, “It’s your funeral, I plan to stay right on the ground.”

“Wuse,” Tressah said as she moved for the door.

Rro said nothing during the whole exchange. But he moved in sync with Tressah. As soon as she poked her head out the door she was shot at. Otto countered through the window and took out a human male.

“Thanks,” Tressah said quietly then moved out. The five pillars were not far but there was going to be a lot of bloodshed before getting there.

BFFC Moderator
It was like thousands of voices cried out for a sequel and were suddenly silenced...

163 (edited by TheGunslinger Saturday, November 8, 2008 2:15 am)

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Nossk opened his eyes and promptly wished he hadn't.

"Why's it gotta gorram bright?"

He moved his right hand to cover his blinded eyes, and promptly wished he hadn't.

"I wouldn't advise moving any of the injured parts just yet," said a voice from his left side. "Which essentially means that you should stay perfectly still."

Despite the warning Nossk whirled his head toward the voice, and growled in pain as something previously scabbed opened up and began to ooze anew. His eyes involuntarily squeezed shut against the pain, and he managed to find his voice again. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the one who followed you down into that cellar," uttered the voice that Nossk still could not pair with a face. "I'm the one who saved your scaly *** from imminent death. I'm the one who killed the rest of the swarm, who succeeded where you failed."

His words opened up the scabs on the wounds the Scorekeeper had dealt his spirit in what he thought were his final moments. It distracted him from the pain his body was in, but honestly, he liked it better the other way.

Like many other times in his life, he distracted himself from the pain at the expense of another.
"Pretty speech. You been sitting here thinking that up while you waited for me to wake up? Waited so you could kill me while I watch?"

"Wrong, on two accounts. First I never plan what I do or say too precisely ahead of time. I find that more often than not, having a rigid plan in your head limits your ability to adapt to a situation. I prefer to think of most encounters, conversation included, as more fluid ordeals." He was well aware that his description of his personal style were wasted on the brute, but he felt the need to defend his methodology regardless.

"Second, you've got me all wrong. I don't want to kill you. I want to hire you."

Despite how much pain it caused him, Nossk opened his eyes in the light of the backyard (not even as bright as he thought it would be, as dusk was rapidly approaching) and focused his vision on the man sitting at ease on the pseudoturf that made up the lawn they inhabited. He was almost certainly Corellian (not that the specifics of human diversity mattered to Nossk in the least), with shoulder-length black hair that was beginning to gray. His eyes were hard and intense as they stared down at the reptile's own. His face was far too gaunt, even more than the average prisoner, and his mouth was turned slightly down in the expression of one who has suffered greatly and still harbors some private inner pain.

Of course, these subtleties were lost to the Trandoshan. His eyes were fixed on the man's chin and jawline, which appeared freshly shaved.

"You'd better not have used my knives for that, human," he growled as menacingly as he could. It is difficult to growl menacingly with multiple contusions and lacerations lining your entire torso.

Demarq's intriguing expression turned into a sad smile as he rubbed his hairless chin, and then stroked the mustache that he had allowed to remain. "I'm lucky you keep them so sharp. There wasn't much to use for cream, so I thought I'd have to smear some of that insect blood on my face."

Nossk barked out a single laugh, which was followed by a growl of intense displeasure at the feeling his diaphragm had awakened in his bruised ribs. Sobered by the pain, he resumed the initial line of questioning.

"What makes you think I'll want to work for you? I don't even take partners, so what makes you think I'll stick a collar around my neck and act like your pet masiff?"

Demarq considered this question for a moment. "A couple reasons. One, I saved your life, and something tells me that's not going to sit well with you unless you either save mine in return, or kill me. I don't remember which it is that you lizards prefer, and honestly I don't much care.

"Two, once we find a way out of this hellhole I'm offering you a career. A chance to sail in the employ of the famed Demarq Halloran. Pirating is a lucrative business, and every bit as rewarding as bounty hunting. Even more so sometimes, since you aren't tracking a single being at a time. You'd be surprised at how much carnage is involved in an average shipjacking.

"And three," Demarq cut off suddenly and placed Nossk's pistol against the Trandoshan's temple. "If you're not my ally, you're my competition. And I've already got more of that than I can handle right now."

Nossk had no intention of repaying any kind of debt this creature felt he owed him. He had no intention of becoming a pirate after he butchered his way out of the battledome. What he did have an intention of doing was not dying just yet. He looked Halloran in the eyes, and muttered, "You got yourself a deal."

Demarq nodded in approval and got to his feet. "Get your rest, Trando. I want to get moving as soon as you're able to walk without hemorrhaging internally."

"If I've got to be your pet, don't I at least get a name besides my species?" Nossk asked under his breath, just loud enough to be picked up by the pirate.

"If you've got one, I'll hear it. I'll even consider using it."

Nossk toyed with the idea, but decided against it. He had to cater to this human's ego to live long enough to redeem himself in the Scorekeeper's eyes, but he didn't have to make it easy on him.

"I've got a name, and a damn good one. But I don't want you polluting it with your human mouth. Especially not while you're ordering me around like a dog."

"Alright then, works for me. Sweet dreams, Rexy."

"Call me that again and you won't wake up tomorrow."

"Okay, fine. I'll check on you in the morning...Fido."

Nossk went to sleep fuming at having his life saved by this insolent human. Demarq went to sleep feeling remarkably good about himself.

It's going to be a fun couple of days, methinks.

GPI: Fondly regard crustacean

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

((Alright, this post was supposed to be like at least four times longer than this, but I've been brutally assaulted with a schedule of upcoming exams and research paper due dates, and will be unable to write until next week at the very earliest. The past few weeks of inactivity as far as this RPG goes I will also fully blame upon the workload of my beloved (@#&%) MCV.))


Nossk had experienced plenty of rough mornings, especially in his teenage years, but this, he thought, easily trumped them all. Everywhere ached and burned; even opening his eyes and stretching the skin of his scabbed forehead made him wince, which hurt even more. The Trandoshan immediately closed his eyes again, situational awareness be damned.

“Morning sunshine.” The human voice that had only ever spoken a few sentences to him was already becoming all too familiar. “So you didn’t bleed out on me overnight, good. I’d almost written you off as a dead man…lizard.”

“Were it so easy…” Nossk groaned, forcing his eyes open again and trying to see the human without having to move his head. He was hunkering off to the Trandoshan’s right, the slugthrower pistol dangling between his knees from his good hand. He appraised the reptilian with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

“I hate to break it to you Rexy, but you still don’t look so hot. Where’re those fabled Trando superpowers?”

“Don’t let your little eyes fool you, human.” Nossk growled, digging the butt of his shotgun into the ground and using it to pull himself into a painful sitting position. “I’m fit enough to break you in half if you call me that again.”

“Ya, I’ve heard that one before.” Demarq retorted, referring to the lizard-man’s unfulfilled threat from the night before. “Can you move?”

“Of course.” Nossk snapped immediately, as if he was scolding the pirate for doubting him. Pulling hard on the shotgun, the Trandoshan began to haul himself to his feet. In his vigor to redeem his brutish image, however, he seemed to forget that his hand was on the slide-pump that loaded the weapon. As he tried to pull himself up, the action slid down. Nossk hadn’t been expecting the sudden drop as his body weight, which had been supported solely by the slugthrower, jolted a few inches down. He collapsed, and lay sprawled quite ridiculously on the soft, seemingly well-kept lawn of one of the faux houses. His frustration spiked sharply.

Demarq regarded the stubborn lizard with a bemused one-sided smile.

“Very amusing, but we don’t have time for the antics Rexy, get a move on. No one ever found redemption in the dirt.” The pirate captain said sternly, making his voice as harsh as possible.

Shame, he thought, is the key to controlling this one. Keep hitting him where it hurts, and he’ll keep pushing harder.

Not even bothering to threaten the human for using the degrading nickname he’d concocted, Nossk clenched his jaw and adjusted his grip on the pump-gun. This time, after some struggle, he managed to attain something vaguely akin to a standing position. The Trandoshan remained entirely dependent on the shotgun for support; the stab wound in his thigh was deep, and Demarq already knew it would take longer to heal than the other injures. Considering the extent of those injuries, and belying the pirate captain’s stinging insults, he was, in reality, astounded that Nossk was even alive, nevermind being able to stand. Regardless of what he’d said earlier, the regenerative abilities of the Trandoshan seemed to be very real indeed, and he was willing to bet that if he checked under the bandages festooned about the reptile’s body, the more shallow ones would already have closed.

“Very well.” Demarq said casually, careful not to sound the least bit impressed. “Let’s go.”

The pirate, who now wore Nossk’s pistol belt, appropriated the pack he’d been wearing as well before stepping off. Standing would be a difficult task for the crippled Trando; walking would be nigh impossible; there was no way he could handle the extra weight of the rucksack.

Demarq watched with amazed anticipation out of the corner of his eye as Nossk took his first step...then a second…and a third. The Trandoshan was actually walking. His shotgun served as an appropriately-themed crutch, and with it he limped to the pirate captain’s side; the human could’ve sworn he caught the equivalent of a smug grin tug at the Trando’s marred face as the lizard-man hobbled abreast to him.

Their pace was understandably slow, but Demarq didn’t mind; after all, the pair had no real destination to speak of. For the moment he was content with just getting away from this “neighborhood”, away from the battlefield where they’d fought the Bartokk hive, and in doing so basically broadcast their position to any scavenger looking to pick off some weakened competition. Demarq was surprised enough that they’d survived the night unhindered, and was determined not to press his considerable (but not limitless) luck if he could avoid it – he had the feeling he’d need as much of it as he could get.


Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Alright, I'll post too--I'm afraid a lot of people won't get back in, but we can try.

Kal, Dra'kash, and Kel’Dar’Ish opened fire on hunters and prisoners alike, dropping a dozen in less than twenty seconds. Before long, even more joined the fray, and they were forced into a circle, as most everyone rightly identified them as the greatest threat. By the time a rough count had reached 30, the trio were forced to holster their weapons and draw blades. Under his helmet, Kal let loose a feral grin, and drew his bes'kad.

"OYA!! And they come to their deaths. Bring it on, auruetise!" A human fell headless, and a twil'ek with a slit throat fell too. Dra'kash sissed with laughter, and stabbed a bounty hunter. "They rush to die--what foolzz!"

Kal shoved a body off his blade, laughing with bloodlust, then charged to meet an oncoming prisoner, wielding only a shovel. He slashed the shovel in half with his bes'kad, then drew his blade down its body. He turned to see a hunter approaching him, and sheathed his blade, ejecting his gauntlet vibroblade instead. Kal kicked the hunter's knife away, then plunged his own into his foe's gut, then headbutted him in the face. "Little Keldabe kiss for you." Then he stabbed him in the throat. His HUD flashed indicating another attacker behind him, and he spun to see another hunter.

"Try to sneak up behind me, hutuune? Kal dodged an ill timed thrust, then stabbed at him. The hunter dodged partly, and the blade only cut his shoulder. "Shab!" Kal punched him in the stomach, then kicked him on his back, finishing him off with a curbstomp to the face.

Kal looked at the bodies laying around the trio of warriors, noticing minor wounds on his two allies, and a few on himself he didn't remember getting. "Quite the fight." A group of hunters and prisoners were gathering not far away, wary of the group that had so decimitated their ranks. "Oh boy. Looks like round two." He glanced behind him, at Nelba, still intact and watching them intently. "And our prize is still there." He looked at his allies, pulling out a thermal detonator. "So, kill him and run, or stick out the fight?"

Hope that wasn't too aweful. NOTE: Most of those thirty enemies killed while preoccupied, so its not too unrealistic for a Mando, Barabel, and Shivistanen.

Lets bring this back.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

"I can't breathe! I know that's what you're thinking, deep down in that sub par cranium. I can just taste the moment, as the poisons fill your lungs when your pride collapses...that's when I'll have it." Flying W was ecstatic, he'd found a prisoner to play with.
His hands were firmly planted on the youth's head, contact improved his abilities, and in this case the image of being breathless was so firmly planted in the boy's brain he wasn't even trying to. His chest had stopped falling, and the race had begun. Still looking for the two that had escaped the basement, this unfortunate soul had stumbled in their path.
If he didn't know anything, only Flying W would see it. And in this drastic reality, only W was there to hear the boy. His screams, his confession.
He began to breathe once more, he'd cracked. Flying W took his hands away, the boy fell, out.
"Well, it appears they won't be too hard to find. Just left the building block, according to our friend here. I wish I could just pierce the mind through to the core, could've been done earlier."
"Let it be, they'll tell you anything to live." Rando had his arms crossed, they were too open for something like this. His eyes hadn't stopped moving since they'd started. Watching for that eventual attack.
"Oh no, no, no! You don't understand, I can't get them out from under my skin! If I don't, well..." Rando casually stepped away from the approaching lunatic,"I want to meet these great slayers, want to taste the blood running from their feet. What's my reason? Who cares for reason, it's just something I must have!"
Rando sighed and refused to argue. Every second spent together was Flying W's advantage, he'd no escape now. But such is the way that opens up before him. He took a look at the boy, passed out on the cold purmacrete, and pulled him inside a nearby doorway.
As much sympathy as he could afford to give. He caught up to Flying W, and cautiously walked behind.

I'll abdicate at the drop of a hat
(BFFC Moderator)

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

The mismatched pair straggled their way through two more blocks of the creepy, picture-perfect suburban town – save the blood smears and corpses, naturally. Demarq walked ahead, hand planted on the butt of his commandeered slugthrower pistol, eyes scanning the sides of the street like an over-zealous crossing guard. As of this moment the “partner” he’d sought out and rescued was virtually useless. The bandaged, limping hulk staggered as fast as he was able, using his shotgun as a makeshift cane. The pirate captain could hear him panting from the pain and effort, but he had no intentions of stopping, or even slowing his pace for that matter. He had the feeling that the Trandoshan could push himself at least a little further before his broken body betrayed his stubborn pride and collapsed.

Suddenly a loud thump made Demarq whirl on his heels, pulling the handgun as he turned. Nossk had fallen on the sidewalk, and was now leaning against a blocky electrical transformer. Maybe he’d been wrong about the lizard-man’s limitations.

“You didn’t stub your toe, did you Rexy?” The pirate remarked condescendingly, dropping the pistol back into its holster. He approached the transformer casually, crossing his arms over his chest and preparing to patronize the reptile back onto his feet. He was about two meters away when he finally understood the words Nossk had been hissing.

“Get down, you stupid, stupid human!”

Demarq hunkered down and sprang behind the transformer, more out of instinct than anything else. He assumed that the Trando had seen something he hadn’t, and poked his head up above the boxy machine they’d taken cover behind. A thick-fingered hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back down. The captain turned, and stared into the glaring, teeth-baring, bandaged face of the brute he’d felt it necessary to have.

“For the love of the hunt, don’t look!” Nossk hissed, tightening his grip on Demarq’s shoulder. The pirate was inwardly astounded by the strength still left in that torn body; outwardly, he shoved the arm aside and drew his pistol again.

“What did you see?” Demarq whispered back angrily, reasserting his control over the crippled reptile.

“A man. A green man with a long nose. He was holding a gun and a bag.” Nossk growled.

“A green man with a - ?” The pirate gave the Trando a puzzled look, but comprehension dawned on him a few moments later.

The idiot doesn’t even know what a Rodian is. He realized. He nodded, back to Nossk to show his understanding.

“How far away?”

The lizard gave the human a blank stare, then shrugged, wincing at the unconscious motion. Demarq rolled his eyes, not quite used to dealing with this particular sort of brainlessness.

“How many houses up from us?”

Shrug. Wince.

“Was it more than two?” the pirate inquired, sure he couldn’t have missed a target closer than that. As it was he wasn’t quite sure how the Trando had managed to catch something he didn’t, especially considering his condition. Still, he supposed, those enormous eyes had to be good for something.

Nossk wrinkled his brow for a moment in deep concentration, and then nodded. Demarq sighed in relief at finally having received some inkling of information. The pirate leaned out to the right side of the transformer, pistol in hand, and narrowed his eyes. Sure enough, a Rodian crept across the lawn of a white house, holding a carbine in his right hand and what could’ve been some sort of bag in his left. He was about 2/3 covered by the hedges he scurried behind, and the shade of the plants was eerily close to his skin tone.

Damn he’s got good eyes.

Demarq leveled his pistol at the scampering Rodian, touched his finger to the trigger – and waited. The looter pelted across the lawn, over the sidewalk, and behind a large tree on the side of the road. The pirate watched, breathing slow and deep.

“You could’ve emptied half the clip into him by now, what’s you pro-“ The Trandoshan began, switching his grip on the shotgun as if he’d make the shot himself.

“Shut up.” Demarq interrupted, cold and calm.

Finally the Rodian made a break for it, sprinting from his tree towards the other side of the road. About halfway there he abruptly spun like a top, clutched his shoulder just above his heart, and stumbled onto the pavement. Demarq calmly holstered the smoking handgun, stood, and strode towards the body.

“Get up.” He ordered the Trandoshan.

By the time Nossk hobbled to his side, Demarq had already retrieved the Rodian’s carbine and gone through the contents of his bag, which he’d tossed into the rucksack before putting it back on. The pirate liked the feeling of holding a real blaster again, and he took just a moment to run his fingers over the checkered handgrip before addressing his humbled companion. The neat shot through the alien’s chest was simple, clean, and efficient, not even the ever-criticizing and unhappy Trandoshan could argue with that, especially at this range.

“We’re taking that house.” Demarq informed the Trando matter-of-factly.

“Why? What was in the bag?” Nossk growled, his legs still aflame with the pain it had caused him to regain his feet.

“Bandages, antiseptic, bacta injections, stims; essentially medical supplies.”

“So we’re –“

“Going to get you not quite so useless, yes. Follow me.” The pirate explained simply, setting off and mounting the duracrete steps to the white house. The walkway up to the front door was lined with spring flowers. A welcome mat greeted them at the doorstep. Nossk spit on it as he limped through the threshold. They emerged in what appeared to be a kitchen, following the layout of most of the other houses he’d looted thus far.

“Stay here.” The human said, dumping his pack next to Nossk. He raised his carbine and proceeded out of the room. Over the next five minutes the pirate captain searched the ground and upper floors of the house room by room – and found nothing. Disappointed, Demarq began to think that perhaps the Rodian’s bag was all there had been in the house, or maybe he’d been carrying it before even entering this particular building. The human returned to the kitchen where he relayed the barren state of the house to Nossk.

He was surprised, on entering the kitchen, to find the Trando’s chair dripping with blood. He’d removed the old bandage from the stab wound in his thigh and replaced it with one from the Rodian’s bag of supplies. The captain noticed an empty bacta needle on the table. He silently approved of the lizard-man’s use of his time while he’d been sweeping the house.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m fine.” Nossk replied impartially, “As long as we don’t have to search any more basements.”

Demarq froze, shooting the Trandoshan a surprised look. Nossk thought he might have just understood what he was thinking. His leg burned all over again at the very notion.


“Yep.” The pirate said happily, remembering where the basement door was located in these nigh-identical houses. It had gone almost unnoticed last time, and that was before either of them had any reason to despise the concept of cellars. Demarq located the basement door, turned the knob slowly, and pulled it open. Nossk sat in one of the kitchen chairs, his shotgun trained on the doorway. There was nothing.

The pirate captain raised his carbine and began his cautious descent of the cellar stairs. Unable to manage them himself and hold a weapon at the same time, the Trandoshan remained where he was, watching both the front and basement doors. One minute passed, and already Nossk grew restless; he’d heard nothing from the open cellar door. Thirty seconds later the Trando struggled to his feet and began limping towards the steeply descending stairs. Just as he hit the first step, nearly reeling and tumbling down the entire staircase, he finally heard the aggravating human’s voice for the first time in what seemed like hours.

“Hey Rexy, get down here.”

“I’m already on my way.” Nossk snapped back, staggering drunkenly down another step.

“Well hurry it up damn it, this basement’s a lot nicer than the last one.” The human’s voice grew louder, and a moment later he was going back up the stairs and through the door. A moment later he reappeared with the rucksack Nossk had pillaged earlier in the Battledome. Even so he was back down the stairs before the Trandoshan had made it halfway, and disappeared around a corner at the bottom. Nossk neither expected nor received an offer to help him.

It took another full minute for Nossk to struggle down the remaining stairs, and after that staggering around the corner after Demarq seemed like a limp in the park. He rounded the divider and froze. Taking up most of the decent-sized cellar, including computer systems, meters of tubing, and whatever else it required to run was a huge, ten-foot tall bacta tank.

“Get comfortable Rexy, I’ll be back in a bit.” Demarq announced, snatching up his carbine and the remainder of Nossk’s fragmentation grenades.

“Where are you going with those?” The Trandoshan growled accusingly, playing scenarios of being stripped of his gear and abandoned in his head. His grip on the pump-gun tightened.

“I’m going to see about fortifying this place. We’ll be here for awhile.” With that the pirate captain bounded up the stairs two at a time, and disappeared through the cellar doorway.


Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

"That parasite!" Flying W took a swig of water ffrom Rando's flask and threw it back.
"Well, I don't know to say."Rando laughed under his breath.
Steps out of the purmacrete they'd been surrounded. Six thin, gangly creatures with blaster pistols trained on them.Unfortunately, with the way the day was going, they just didn't care. Imagining the problem didn't exist helped a little.
"Hand the rifle over!" The lead had said three times already. If wasn't going to shoot now, then he never would. A moment passed and nothing, just another demand for them to disarm themselves.
"It has been a very long while in here hasn't it? I think they've gone crazy with staying alive!" Flying W swung the gourd loose in his hand, the stopper was missing.
Rando picked out the boy from earlier, being shouldered by a woman in the back. They'd been watched and slow about it.
"I propose we go our separate ways. We have nothing you need." Rando kept the cycler strap firm in one hand.
"Yeah, but they have something I want..." Flying W stepped forward. Rando snapped the pistol out of the nearest hand and with a diving roll came out of the circle.
The first fractured anguish split the air. He looked up from the ground to see a sword tip ease out of place in the man's sternum. Blood dripped lightly from the edge, quickly drieing out. Less than a minute passed, and Flying W remained standing. Unharmed and clean.
"Grab two bodies and follow me..." Any hint of his indirect sardonic nature had been wiped off. Rando followed suit after finding a place to tuck the pistol. He looked back to see the boy and woman gone.
They pulled them up stone steps, through a dull metal door, and with determined ease Flying W knocked the kitchen table out of his way. He stacked the corpses, two high around a central square.Within that square, he placed the gourd.
He started working, making slow deliberate incisions with a basic metal knife. Life cascaded, death stained the confines in a bitter acrid film on the air. Rando stepped outside and swore. Then looked toward the house next to them, a human was working. His head raised slowly up, Rando jumped back inside. Hoping he hadn't been seen, but he knew the motion had been.
The stench had gotten worse, now with no where for even barely decent air, and neighbors he was caught.
He stalked up the stairs, to open a window. Let everyone else know a lunatic was fileting bodies inside.


I'll abdicate at the drop of a hat
(BFFC Moderator)

169 (edited by Werda Verd Sunday, December 14, 2008 10:47 am)

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Ralin, can you post? I hate making decisions for people, and we could kill Nelba. Don't want this to die, either.

Or anyone-this doesn't have to die.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Sorry I been off this dude; been meaning to post for like a week now.  Finals are over, so no more excuses   big_smile   I'm off to work like, now, so this'll be short.  Will try to add more tonight.

"So, kill him and run, or stick out the fight?"

The thought of killing the encased slug brought a toothy smile to Dra'kash's face.  Before he could say anything, however, the Shell Hutt's hover-sled revealed a full battery of missile launchers.  "COVER!!!"

Dra'kash and landed head first in the same depression as the missiles crashed down everywhere around them.  "I think he's made the desicion for us.... we FIGHT!"

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Sorry, just don't want this to die, it has potential. If I can, I'll post later. Doubt it though.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

((Alright, I can jump back in anytime, most might have probably forgotten my character (:P) so Railn, Werda...just say the word and I'll get to working on a post. And thanks guys, for the prayers. smile ))

"This IS my signature."

173 (edited by Werda Verd Sunday, December 14, 2008 5:16 pm)

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

Anyone who wants to bring it back is welcome--I like my Mando in this, so like to keep it alive. If you want to hop in our trio, a fellow Mando would be welcome addition. I think we're the only Mando'ade in the RP, oddly.

And no problem, man. We're here for you.

[url=]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

a little late for me to join eh? oh well theres always a next time.......i hope

i dont care if you kill me it'll just one more worthless person out of the world. J. fett

Re: RPG - Battledome II: The Cleansing

*We're all still waiting for Rev to post   tongue *

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."