Private Broken Bones

[Sig Dryggo]

Broken Bones
Tag(s): Hakon Fett
Objective(s): Challenge Hakon Fett, Claim Glory

The Great Hunt had been called. The other Neo-Crusaders, Sig’s brothers and sisters dedicated to reforging the past glory of Mandalore, were on their way. Soon enough he’d be tested in one of the oldest traditions they had. Yet he arrived early on this day for another ancient tradition, one even older than the Hunt itself.

Sig was there that day when Hakon Fett , among others, declared the formation of the Neo-Crusaders. He arrived late, only heading Hakon himself speaking, but the words he spoke ignited the fire within him. And then it happened: for a brief moment the two had made contact. The brief few seconds stirred something else within Sig: he hadn’t sparred with another Mandalorian since his clan’s demise.

So when the Hunt was called, Sig sent a private transmission to Hakon:

“Hakon Fett,
My name is Sig. Our people are scattered. Our people are lost. You seem to recognize this and understand the only way forward is to return to the Old Ways. The ways of our ancestors: where glory lies in facing the impossible and defeating it; or die in glorious battle trying. It is for this reason I extend an invitation: The Great Hunt was called on Dxun. Arrive here early so we may embrace another tradition: warriors training through blood.”

He wasn’t sure if Hakon would accept the invite. But he sat just outside the Neo-Crusader outpost, where the Hunt would start, leaning against a tree. He had to wait for the Hunt anyways, it only made sense to wait and see if his opponent would arrive, if he did indeed accepted it.

Regardless, he stood there leaning against the tree waiting: for the hunt, or for Hakon to arrive and accept his challenge.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Thick bushes parted ways to the sound of metal spurs rattling closer and closer and closer until they stopped with a thud. A figure clad in scraped iron and rusted bronzium emerged from the impenetrable foliage of Dxun into the small clearing where Sig Dryggo leaned against a tree.

Hakon Fett sized the man with a piqued curiosity concealed beneath the soulless T-visor of his helm. “There are dueling rings within the outpost — why here?” he tilted his head slightly.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig chuckled, “Come now Hakon,” he said as he turned towards the outpost entrance, “You’re smarter than that.”

He began making his way towards the dueling rings with Hakon Fett , not saying much during the short walk there. Upon arrival he turned toward his fellow Crusader, “You and me, were the same. We both want to reclaim the lost glory of our ancestors,” he explained with an almost devilish glee.

“So let us have a proper introduction, warrior to warrior,” he said, motioning towards the arena.

Before entering, Sig removed his weapons from his person, indicating to his opponent he wanted a true genuine fight: all knuckles. Walking to the opposite end of the arena he cracked his neck and turned back towards the direction Hakon would he standing. “Knock out or tap out,” he called over plainly, “Ready when you are,” he finished, raising his hands up in a fighting stance.​

 

[Hakon Fett]

He smirked at the response. As Sig approached him and spoke, Hakon moved no inch and spoke no words. He bore no weapons on him, well aware of the challenge calling him here. For years his people had been led astray to a path of damnation, lost to their true meaning of existence. He, too, was among those. Very few did not bear that sin over their shoulders; men like Carduul Akahl and his group who had preserved their ways against the taint of the aruetii; like Gaanla Munin bearing the legacy of Mand'alor the Unsung who had fought that blight.

They endured the silent ostracization from Mandalorian society and now they reaped the fruits of their toil: warriors reborn, souls reclaimed, like both Sig Dryggo and Hakon Fett.

And every day they grew more and more.

With renewed vigor, Hakon rushed at Sig. He leapt into a flying high kick many would find impossible to perform in full body armor.

But impossible only meant highly improbable to Mandalorians.

The armor was merely their second skin.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig grinned as his fellow Mandalorian charged him. His blood pumped as he charged in response, turning his body and grabbed the leg of Hakon Fett in an attempt to throw him, either into the ground or at the very last off balance. After the two got some distance, Sig wasted no time responded with his own attack,

Bringing his leg forward, he launched a roundhouse kick at Hakon's side. His fighting style was simple: brute force it. He didn't care how Hakon responded, right now it was about getting in those initial blows and learning what kind of fighter he was dealing with. If he was similar to him it would be a true blood match. Otherwise, Sig was already mentally preparing to change tactics as needed. After all, a more agile fighter can be easier to brute force but harder to hit overall, which meant more strategy.

This next exchange would be what Sig needed to find out exactly what kind of fighter Hakon was.​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Hakon wobbled for a moment before finding his footing after Sig's attempt to throw him fully off-balance. He leaned sideways, his elbow naturally dropping down to protect his ribs from the roundhouse kick, and huffed at the strength of Sig’s leg connecting.

In quick response, he shuffled closer to Sig with his feet into a series of feinting jabs at Sig's head, followed by a hook into his gut.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig began stepping back as the series of blows for his head commenced. While he was able to dodged most, he didn’t move backwards fast enough for the final strike to miss.

This, followed by a heavy handed gut punch, sent Sig back a moment, one hand on his stomach as he caught his breath. After a beat he chuckled, but instead of a quip he instead broke into a sprint. Jumping, he brought his hands together as a club and brought them down, the intention of landing a blow to the top do his head to stun him.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Surprised by his adversary's angle of attack, Hakon mustered a desperate guard against the unorthodox strike from above. His head rattled from the impact and darkness flashed before his eyes momentarily as Sig's hammer crashed down on his helmet.

The smart move was to stagger back, gain the safety of distance beyond Sig's reach.

But instinct often dulled the sound of mind. Pulling his head back and gritting his teeth against the pain, Hakon lashed out with his helmet for a Keldabe kiss.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig smirked as his blows made their marks. However this wasn’t just any fighter. This was a fellow Mandalorian, a born warrior like himself. And so when Hakon Fett pushed forward with a Keldabe kiss, Sig wasn’t entire surprised.

Still, the sudden hit shot pain through his neck and back. In response, Sig launched his own head forward with the same ferocity Hakon did. He then attempted to grab the head of his opponent, the hopes of smashing him over his knee which he brought up swiftly.

Sig wouldn’t lie, this was one of the few moments of actual genuine joy. In fact it was the first time, perhaps the only time since he was a young boy with his cousin Vince , he felt truly happy.

Happiness: found within the never ending fight.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Hakon did not expect a return of the Keldabe Kiss. The headbutt sent his stumbling backwards before a pair of crushgaunts smashed his buy'ce into an armored knee. Black ink spilled over his eyes and his feet stumbled over one another, the leash of his brain over them cut loose, and Hakon lurched backwards like a tower swept off its foundations.

With a heavy thud, the Mandalorian crashed on the jungle floor. A jolt of survival's instinct zapped him back into consciousness, only for the sea of darkness to be washed away by a tide of crimson. Blood and sweat trickled down his blurred gaze, and the taste of iron damped his dry mouth. For a few moments he stared blankly the Dxun skies before he blinked and pushed himself on one elbow to see Sig's looming figure a few feet away.

"Well--." he began with a coarse voice, then cleared his throat from the pool of blood and saliva. "--fought."

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

With a moment to catch his breath, Sig too fell to a knee; his own blood streaming down his face and out of his helmet to his armor below. Truly, adrenaline was the savior in most fights. Never more apparent than now, as Sig’s body was now catching up the blows Hakon Fett landed.

With a tense spine and tighter neck, Sig glanced up at the Mandalorian through his visor. “Question is,” Sig said, him too now clearing his bloodied throat, “are you ready for round two?”

He wasn’t one to fight till tap out, despit that being the established rules. Even then, Hakon didn’t tap out, he simply commented on the fight. Asking was more of a courtesy, as the Mandalorian fully expected his brother-in-arms to continue fighting on, till a proper tap out occurred or until a proper knockout was achieved.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

A blink for a command and a dew of kolto sprinkled down his forehead, mending the eyebrow laceration dribbling crimson over his eyes. Licking the blood and kolto from his lips, Hakon Fett rose up.

He squared his shoulders and brought his fists at the level of his chin, elbows resting on his ribs -- a defensive stance designed for quick counters and closer range. With Sig's superior reach, Hakon knew he had to keep close to nullify that advantage.

"Come then."

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig readied himself, bringing his arms and hands back up into a fighting stance. He didn’t bother wiping the blood coming forth from his likely broken nose.

No, instead he began to pace around his opponent, engaging in the dance that was defensive combat. Sig could tell from Hakon’s stance he was going to try a new technique, one Sig would do his best to respond to.

Taking a small leap forward, Sig launched a roundhouse kick his way, which he hoped to follow up by swiping at his legs to get him down.

They seemed evenly matched in terms of raw strength; this battle would then be decided by strategy.
​

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

This time Hakon anticipated the move. He ducked neatly beneath the roundhouse kick, and his footing remained unyielding to the undertow of Sig's sweep.

Hakon pressed on closer to deny Sig's reach advantage and lashed out with a series of hooks and punches at his torso and head.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

His greatest weakness always was his arrogance. Thinking he had adapted to Hakon Fett was an assumption quickly proven incorrect.

Despite them being a series of quick blows, they each made their mark and sent a good pain through his body with each. As Hakon’s final blow came to pass, Sig would throw out both arms with a battle cry to boot.

With all his force he attempted to head hug his brother; a successful attempt would see Sig lift him off the ground for a brief moment and literally throw him. Unsuccessful meant he’d have to successfully counter whatever Hakon himself countered with.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Hakon anticipated his foe would step away, gain distance to press their longer reach advantage. Instead, to his surprise, Sig did the opposite; he succumbed to the close-range of their fight and his hands snapped for a clinch. Hakon shuffled backwards from the hold only to find his head trapped in a steel vice. The ground beneath his feet vanished as Sig yanked him upwards and into a throw. In a last ditch effort as he was flung away like a rag doll, he used the momentum to smack a powerful kick at Sig's helmeted chin.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig cursed as he fell to the ground. But not because of the damage done and pain he felt through his body. But because his helmet was off. Sig had hardly ever removed his helmet. Even when he removed his armor, his helmet remained. Even in his sleep, his helmet remained. In fact he had genuinely forgotten the last time he took it off completely.

Today was that day, and he was furious.

Taking a knee and keeping his head hung low, he extended his arm outward and grabbed his helmet tightly in his grip. Bringing it up he took in a breath as it was placed over his head, twisting it with an airtight hiss following. Standing, he turned to Hakon Fett . Finally he let the air out of his chest. “You’ll regret that.”

In this moment Sig forgot what was happening. The sparring match before no longer existed. Instead his rage took control. Without skipping a beat, Sig charged with a loud battle cry to boot. He too brought his fist up with the intention of uppercutting him.

This would only be the first strike. Regardless if it hit or not, Sig began throwing all his weight into his punches. He was aiming for Hakon’s rib cage as well as the center of his chest. It was all with the intention of knocking the wind out of him so Sig could, hopefully, launch another brutal exchange.
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

Hakon had heard a hundred tales of it. He had witnessed it several times. Some of his kin called it a boon, a gift; others—a curse, a malediction.

A Mandalorian's berserker rage.

A thirst of the mind and heart, an opiate quenched only by a sea of blood.

He'd never been on the receiving end of one, but he didn't need to. Adapt and survive were the words that weaved his tale. Even when these same worlds oft brought him to acts some of his kin would call dishonorable, aruetii.

Unbridled strength against unforgiving cunning.

Hakon would first try to disable him through the means of their traditional duel, but if that failed, he would need to resort to other ways of handling the situation.

And without killing him. Sig Dryggo was still very much needed to the Crusade's cause.

With a deft series of steps, Hakon escaped the furious barrage of iron hammers headed his way. The onslaught pushed him to the very edge of the small clearing until solid branches materialized above in his peripheral vision.

His first attempt reaching for a branch was quickly subdued by the rushing fists and Hakon stepped behind the large trunk of tree which took a devastating strike showering both with torn splinters.

The brief lull of combat gave him enough space to step back once more, dragging his feet into the jungle floor then lunged for a branch, using the momentum of his swing to deliver a full frontal kick with both legs at Sig's head.

Sig Dryggo

 

[Sig Dryggo]

For a few moments, all the rage of his life had consumed him. For a few moments, the berserker was unleashed. As quickly as the rage blinded him, the impact of Hakon Fett ’s kick would send Sig downward and into unconsciousness.

A few minutes would pass before air would shoot into his lungs and he’d sit up with a gasp, hand gripping his chest in pain as he did so. Glancing around the room, his vision blurred and slowly returning, he rested his eyes on Hakon. “Fair fight,” he said in a congratulatory tone. He straightened, “I respect you, even look up to you,” he continued, his tone slowly turning cold once more, “and so I’ll warn you: the next time you remove my helmet, you better make sure I stay down.”

He stood, the pain washing over him and fueling him once again. “Because I won’t stop getting up until one of us is a corpse.”
​

 

[Hakon Fett]

"You're a formidable warrior, Sig Dryggo. An example to be followed by our kin." Hakon stated, disregarding the threat. His voice had returned back to plain and neutral after being able to catch his breath. "It is best you spare that rage for the enemy."

Without another word, Hakon Fett departed, keen on mending his wounds and rearranging his thoughts on a all he had learned from and of Sig Dryggo today.