Faction [MP] A Matter of Pride ~ Drego Vs Arla

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch , Open for Protectors PCs to come in and use this as a social thread.
​

Ijaat was gone.

Arla, the leader of the Journeymen had one job. They had failed at it.

As Warmaster, Drego felt a responsibility. A responsibility to keep the morale of both his men, and the vod overall, high. Sometimes, that meant dealing with problem children. It meant taking things into his own hands and dealing with the problem himself. He held no qualms with Arla as a person, but he had to set an example. She represented the head of the personal bodyguard of the Manda'lor. And with him missing...

He needed to put her on a cross and tell the men that the person who lost their leader would be reprimanded. That there would be consequences for this.

He had already told Arla all this the night before, in a manner much less polite than he was. It wasn't often that he lost his cool, but the night before had been....turbulent.

Of course, he hadn't told the vod any of this. What he had told them was that he'd be fighting Arla in the sparring ring the next night, and that he'd be forcing Arla to prove herself. That they were more than welcome to take bets, or even find a sparring partner of their own.

For now, he prepped. The sparring rings were a sacred ritual for Mandalorians, after all. The man, Drego Ruus, formerly Drego Bralor, and Drego Avik before that, was almost never seen with his helm off these days. Some of the vod could say they'd never seen the warmaster without it.

Today, he came up without it.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Manda'yaim
Sparring Rings

"Yeah, you fucked up. Show me you can still do your job on the field of battle."

Drego had pushed Arla too far, this time. She was furious, and took up the offered challenge immediately.

"There can be only one proper response, ner vod."

They had been separated immediately, and both agreed to a meeting to settle the issue after both had had the chance to sleep...

​

That had been a day ago, and though she was under control now, Arla Rodarch was still very angry when she arrived at the sparring rings. She noticed that Drego who had arrived first, already had his helmet off, and she followed suit. There were more than a few other Mandalorian Protectors and vode in the area, probably to spectate, and see the chance to watch the Mandalor's fist go against the leader of His armies.

"This is not about rank, or the Army, or the Journeyman Protectors. This is a personal dispute between warriors, to be settled in the ancient way."

She said, stopping still and turning to face the Warmaster. Despite her very palpable anger, Arla's professionalism and devotion to duty would not let this disagreement spill out among their people.

Still not breaking her gaze, Arla unclipped her primary weapons belt, letting the shotguns and phazor pistol drop to the ground. All unspoken she accepted the challenge to armed melee combat, offering her opponent to do the same. They would prove nothing by blowing holes in each other. Each of them wore their armour, but no helmet.

Without hesitating, she strapped on her claw, and drew her fang, and her beskad, a new one forged by Ijaat, but not finished. It was functional but carried no decorations of any kind. There was a sort of poetic irony to that. Ijaat had left the story unfinished, and Arla's blade was a permanent reminder.

Arla walked out into the sparring ring once she was ready for the fight, moving to her positon, and waiting for the Warmaster to follow.

She would not kill Drego, she decided that from the beginning. He was, despite how angry she was with him, a capable and loyal man. A man who she fully intended to beat into submission, right here, and right now. Despite her anger, Arla kept it controlled, and focused. Her mind pushed aside all other concerns. Drego was a former GA soldier, so he'd know how to fight dirty. She'd never had the chance to spar with him herself, so she'd find out quickly what he was capable of.

He was smaller and lighter than she, but that was no advantage at all between trained fighters, she knew well. Her own style remained Echani, with the elegance and efficiency she had mastered early in life. She had matured and refined her combat style with elements of Mandalorian practicality and ruthlessness, and knew she'd become a better fighter for it.

It was all the fight now, just him and her. Claw on the left, with the Fang dagger held in the left fist, making for an unorthodox but capable weapon. In her right hand, the brand new forged beskad, which was itself unfamiliar being the first time she had swung it in anger, but all the same felt like the blades she had been wielding all her life. She was ready for the Warmaster's test.

Was she still worthy of her position?

Damn right she was, as Mister Drego Ruus was about to discover.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

As Arla disarmed herself of her normal weapons, so did Drego. His shotgun had been left at his study, and he stripped himself of the many pistols he carried with him.

Rather, he kept with him only two things.

The shield he had made in celebration of himself becoming Warmaster, adorned with the symbol of his clan, of which he had started himself. The clan he had formed in defiance of the Enclave, and of which he had brought to the Protectors in an earnest attempt to start anew. The shield was worn on his right arm, covering it almost entirely.

On his left?

A weapon that had defined him. His tactical shovel. One would question the logic of bringing an E-tool to the fight, but any member of Clan Bralor would tell you that making fun of Drego's shovels was a mistake. He treated them as any other mando would a beskad.

"It's the only way we ever could. It's the only way we ever will. Oya, vod. Show me you're still worthy."

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Show you? I'll show you. Arla thought.

"Let's do this." the Journeyman Protector growled, having never taken her eyes off Drego. He'd made this personal. And so it would be. Then she charged, cutting the distance between the two of them with long strides. It was no bull rush, just an efficient closing to battle range.

Once within striking range, Arla switched her stance, and engaged.

Her opening attempt was a nasty one, and not a pulled punch. She struck with her left hand, right at Drego's face. Her claw was an extension of her fist, for a punch that would otherwise rock a foe, becoming a deadly sharp rake with beskar tips. It was no feint.

The choice to switch stance had been one taken upon evaluating Drego's weapons. He'd be ready to match blades with her using his entrenching tool. She'd known many troopers who swore by that weapon, and they were as proud of it as any swordsman was of their blade. She could follow up her strike with her beskad, if an opening presented itself, or be ready to counter.

Come what may, Arla was prepared to do or die here. It had become a matter of honour, of duty, of professionalism. And it more than provided a healthy and available outlet for her anger, and rage. Drego was tough, he could take whatever she could throw. And so she did not hold back one whit. He would need to be at his best, or she would have no hesitation in punishing him. That was the way of the battle circle. The test.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

Raising his shield to block the strike, Drego watched with practiced eyes as she came down on his shield. He knew Arla was a trained fighter. She wouldn't be the leader of the Journeymen if she hadn't been. He couldn't be take her lightly. Still, he had a plan.

Keeping his shield up, he swung low with his shovel and aimed for her forward leg, hoping to at least weaken it. He knew if he could do that, he could exploit it. Get her on the ground, and those knifes won't do much against his shovel.

To him, this was a matter of proving a point. Even if he won, he wasn't going to fire her. He knew her worth, and he knew the Journeymen did good work. But he couldn't let this go unpunished. He couldn't let the vod see this crucial mistake as something that was just brushed off. The Journeymen had failed. They had lost the manda'lor. Now he needed to make an example of Arla.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

The Warmaster showed his skill and readiness in defending her blow, which rang the shield, the claw, and Arla's left arm. The flow of battle had begun, as the two evenly matched combatants went at the mortal dance, toe to toe, giving no quarter.

Already he was attacking with a counter-blow, striking for her forward leg, which was extended as she had made her attack.

The Marshal observed carefully, using her years of training and experience. Not a feint, this attack. Could he really be making a mistake? She saw the opening, and took it. Arla made her first sacrifice, choosing not to attempt to impede Drego's blow. That might prove to be a mistake, but it would give her an opening of her own, she hoped.

Here, Arla made a conscious choice not to go for the head. Her first mistake, perhaps, but a beskad to an unarmored head might kill him. Her strike, a hard chop at his left elbow with the blade of the beskad in her right hand, came swiftly on the back of Drego's entrenching blade biting her in the left calf just below the knee. She might not be trying to kill the Warmaster, but the chop was aimed to take off his arm at the joint.

Drego's blow didn't smash Arla's left knee joint, but it did make contact with her shin just below, and it kriffing hurt. Whether her return strike of the blade cut Drego's arm or was impeded somehow, Arla would inadvertently give ground with the pain to her leg, taking a pace backward. A reflexive action, given the intense sharp pain of the blow.

"Now i know how hard you can hit." Arla growled. She wasn't even done being angry yet. And her shin really fucking hurt. She was ready for more.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

The blow cut right into his arm, and it came clean off. Maybe a little too clean. Despite the arm coming detatched at the elbow, it was a bloodless blow. Thank the Manda for Drego's Icarii biology. Still, he was disarmed, and now very much running on adrenaline. With a mighty swing, he aimed right for Arla's own arm with the rim of his shield, leaving his severed arm on the ground with his shovel. He'd get it back later. She had extended herself, and Drego took the opportunity.

"You haven't seen my best swing! I didn't even put my back into that one!" He roared, as he immediately tried to follow up with a shield bash to her head.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Arla had wanted more, and she got it, even as Drego's severed arm fell to the floor. The edge of his shield was razor sharp, and it bit into her arm, drawing blood. It was as much Drego's follow up as her own avoidance that saved the cut from being far worse. Arla had no time to say anything as Drego's followup shield bash came at her.

That follow up landed square in Arla's face with a crack. The cracking sound and dull crunching pain was all too demonstrative of what had happened. Despite the reflexive urge to put her hand to her nose, Arla held back. That would only make her black out, she knew from experience. Blood poured from her shattered face as she was knocked backward.

Arla hoped he'd put his back into that one, because any harder and her nose would have gone back into her brain and ended everything right here and now. She couldn't afford to get hit like that again, certainly not the same way. She kept her feet, but retreated with the force of the blow she'd taken.

The Marshal was wounded in the arm, and the face. Conversely the Warmaster was short an arm. Nothing had truly changed, both needed to finish their opponent before they were themselves finished. Arla wasn't stupid enough to think she had any advantage, even with two arms against one. She would not drop her guard.

She held tight to her weapons, and tried to regroup. Drego would come at her again, he had to. If he did not, she would take a moment. She doubted that he would be that generous. Arla tried to talk but had to spit blood that had flowed into her mouth.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

Surprisingly, he was. He stood there, letting her regroup. He was always a man of honor, and he knew Arla was reeling. As much as he could bum rush her and finish this, he didn't feel it would be right. Instead, he spoke.

"Do you yield, vod? I can go another few rounds if you want."

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Drego surprised Arla by actually giving her a moment to rest and recuperate, to recover her senses. Those precious seconds were welcomed, and she took the time greedily. Raising the right arm holding her sword in salute, Arla sucked in air. She doubted she would have given Drego a moment's respite had their roles been reversed.

"No. I'm good." Said Arla who clearly wasn't. Blood flowed freely from her shattered nose, and she moved a little gingerly with arm and leg wounds. She held onto her blades, and smiled. "You?" She offered the same courtesy, knowing full well he wouldn't take the proposal. It was the honourable thing to do, however.

Having taken a few breaths, and gotten the stars out of her eyes, Arla drew back to her full height. Her gaze was on the shield that Drego bore. The sole obstacle between her and victory. Her mind was locked on to the contest between them. Slowly she lowered the blade she'd raise in salute, readying herself once more for the trial, the test that was yet to be played out. She was ready if he was.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

"Just about." He smirked back. "If you take my other arm off, I'm gonna headbutt you."

He kept his shield low at his chest. He knew he was at a disadvantage now. If anything, this proved Arla was in fact worthy. She had gone for the tactical advantage. The few moments they had, Drego could pick his arm and reattach it, but he wouldn't sully their fight with that. She had taken it off, and it would stay that way until the fight was over.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

"You're going to need to stand on a box for that." Arla said, without malice. She was taller by about a head than the Warmaster, as if that made any real difference.

Drego had fought well, and she had to admire his tenacity and skill, as he was keeping the shield low and between them, and he continued to fight with care and attention. Still, she would press him now, before her wounds, loss of blood and probable concussion fatigued and hampered her ability to defend herself.

Arla sprang at Drego then, Claw in the lead, Beskad ready and wide. The gambit was obvious, but meant to be an impossible choice. With the high claw, Arla was not striking for Drego, but the edge of the shield itself. If she could catch its sharp edge behind her claws, she could slow it down, pull it out of position. He had to react, she thought, or she'd potentially even disarm him completely.

If he did, though, Arla's beskad stood poised and ready to strike at his body from her right, his left. Any impediment of Drego's shield would be punished from that quarter. But she couldn't predict how he would react, only be prepared. He was too good for her to read him well.

Arla's intent was to create an opening for her beskad to finish the fight. Thus she wanted to make Drego use his shield in such a way as to expose him, to force him to make a choice.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

Drego was always a crafty fighter. It was what kept him in the books against force users, and those who would call him out over stupid chit.

The moment Arla went for the two pronged attack, Drego did something he knew was a gamble. With a press of a button on the interior of his shield, the shield split right down the middle, allowing the claw to come down not on the rim of the shield, but on the bracer that held the shield together, the left piece blocking Arla's beskad, while the right, at least for the moment, flew off. It only lasted a moment though, as Drego deftly pressed the button again, forcing the two pieces together once more. If Arla wasn't quick, her wrist was about to be smashed.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Even as she sprang at Drego, Arla too late realized her mistake. Fortunately her eagerness to finish the fight hadn't been capitalized upon. Nontheless her strike to catch Drego's shield had mixed results, as the shabla thing reformed itself, moving its pieces to deflect her strike and potentially trap her left wrist. "Shab!" She cursed in surprise.

In addition, the way it had moved outward effectively blocked her strike at Drego's body, as she had first intended. Smart, she admired. She'd not known of the shield's special features, and he'd used them effectively to catch her off guard.

But her experienced eye saw that the Warmaster was still potentially vulnerable, if she were again prepared to sacrifice. While he had her left arm, he was effectively immobilized. And that left the solution clear to the Mandalore's chosen fist.

With the ruthlessness that had earned her position of Journeyman Protector among the Mandalorian Protectors, Arla mentally sacrificed her own limb, and struck without mercy. She pushed off high on her trapped left arm to open the way, and crouched low, holding her left arm up as she brought her right arm and the beskad she held across her body in a sweeping low strike. Right across the line of Drego's ankles, throwing her momentum into an all or nothing slash hard enough to sever both legs if not avoided or impeded.

She'd sacrificed her arm and her balance and momentum for this attack, and would be completely exposed by it.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch
​

Off went his lower right leg, and his balance. But Drego had one last gambit.

As he fell, and he did fall, he dragged Arla with him, his shield still trapping her left arm. As he fell, he spun himself as hard as he could, attempting to judo throw Arla right over him and only his back. Best case scenario, it worked. Worst case...he broke her arm.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Arla's final gambit had paid off as her beskad sheared through Drego's leg, taking it off as it had his arm. Unfortunately for her, she paid the price, as her trapped arm was kept firm by the Warmaster. Using his weight and superior position, he torqued her left arm beyond its breaking point. The arm gave way, and the bones broke, sending her entire left arm into a numb throbbing pain. Nerveless fingers dropped her fang dagger.

"Shab!" She swore in pain. Already she could feel herself getting exhausted as the agony from her arm threatened to combine with the pain from her face and overwhelm her. She was sweating profusely, and still dripping blood along with it. Her beskad began to feel heavier, and she dropped it. Fingers grasped until they found the hilt of her fang.

With both of them now on the ground and a right mess, it was a simple thing for Arla to drag herself, one arm hanging loose, to where she could extend her right arm and put the point of the dagger to Drego's face. "Good fight." Said Arla, who meant it. She had not fought one whit below her own abilities, and Drego had matched her. No one could say the Warmaster couldn't fight.

Both of them knew he could have finished her when she'd taken the heavy blow to the face, but he'd chosen not to press the advantage. Both could feel pride in their efforts. Now she wanted what was left of her arm back, before she had to see if Drego could regrow his eyeballs. She knew she'd need a bacta bath very soon. And she wanted to sleep.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch​

Drego lay there, having lost both an arm and a leg. A good fight, sure. But one that had served it's purpose. The Journeyman had been made an example of, which is really all Drego wanted. He never really intended to defeat her, only use her as a scapegoat should anyone question the new government he was working on. The ways of the old would be preserved, yes.

Should anyone question this idea of the Pillars? They could meet Drego on the field of battle. Or Arla. Or Mia. Just as the mandos had done for generations.

"Gimme my leg back and we'll call it." He said through a pained grunt.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Arla nodded, and put the dagger down. "Deal." She carefully took back her injured arm, looked around and found Drego's leg, and handed it back to him with some difficulty, trying to cradle her left arm at the same time. It was almost too much and she nearly blacked out, but she managed not to faint. "What species are you, anyway? I nearly dropped my sword when your arm came off like that." Arla asked Drego, curious.

Before she could call for any help, and she had been about to, a couple of vode got under her arms, and carefully helped Arla to her feet. Tuur, who had been watching the fight, collected her buir's weapons. For a small miracle, the young woman looked right at her, but didn't say a word. Arla suspected she was surprised and disappointed at the outcome of the fight. She also suspected the brash and fiery young woman had a newfound respect for her adoptive maternal parent. Not that Tuur would ever admit such a thing.

"Good fight." Said Arla again, sounding a little distant to her own ears, and repeating herself. Yes, she was definitely concussed. "Bacta tank." Said a quiet voice and a small presence, coming up beside Arla and the two vode who were mostly carrying her at this point. Vaar had also been watching the fight. Arla could hear the pride in his voice, but also the concern for her injuries. Gently, Vaar wiped at Arla's face with a towel, which was frighteningly quickly soaked red with blood.

She had not been fighting for politics, or for any cause. She had been fighting to prove herself. And she had done so. To the Warmaster, to her own children, and to the rest of the kriffing galaxy, too. She was grateful to Drego for the opportunity, and for the contest. She'd learned much today, and it would make all of them stronger. Together.

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Arla Rodarch​

Drego took his leg, and pretty violently popped it back onto his ankle, and suddenly, it acted like it had never been detatched. The man stood back up, watching as Arla was attended to. "If I told you that, then the secret would be out. Do your homework and maybe you'll figure it. Just don't go spreading that shit around. Warmaster has to have his secrets." He chuckled as he went off to pick up his arm, popping that back in as well. Had he gone to stab her instead, instead of going for a cut, he probably would've been in more trouble than he was.

But she went for the disable. Smart. He liked that. Against any other opponent, it'd work wonders.

But against an Icarii?

That was just winning a battle, while he was a master of war.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Arla couldn't help but laugh at the Warmaster's brash cheek. But it was a fair enough answer, she could find out if she really wanted to. She nodded and smiled, promising unspoken to keep his secrets.

"Homework there will be. But I think bacta first." She moved her left arm experimentally and regretted it immediately as a wave of pain and exhaustion washed over her, nearly taking her completely into unconsciousness. "Yeah. Bacta."

This fight was done, and there would be little enough time between now and the next fight. Arla knew that much. She'd find one.

Drego Ruus