The Left Hook

[Dredan Criesta]

Face down, the position on the muddy ground was nothing short of humiliating. Dredan used to rule the fighting pits with all the rage of 100 men but tonight had shattered his confidence. His cheek graced by the drying mud of a rain soaked pit instead of the tender affections that usually accompanied a win.

Dredan pushed off the ground with his one and only palm, the reason he had lost. It was obvious that Dredan had been recently injured, disfigured by a weapon of ancients. The bent of his elbow vanished into nothingness. His left forearm no where to be seen.

“What are you gawking at? Have you come to point out the absence of my left hook?”

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Dredan Criesta"]

The salvager let out a soft snort of amusement as the fight ended almost embarrassingly as fast as it had begun. The roar of the crowd scarcely dimming from the last bout before it rose up again, cheering and laughing at the violence that saw yet another would be competitor sink into the viscous mud. A pitiful performance, pun intended.

She leaned forward against the railings, elbows resting against the splintered wood that barely managed to divide the thronging masses from the pits. Her gaze taking on a critical light as she inspected the man's obvious reason for his defeat. The redness of the stump and the awkwardness in his movements made it clear that it was a fresh development. The scar tissue painting a clear picture. Severed and cauterised with near surgical precision. Signature of a lightsaber slash, to be sure. And a sloppy one at that.

Been there, done that, got the painful scars and cybernetic prosthetic to show for it.

"If you needed me to point that out for you, pateesa, you gotta be dumber than you look." The salvager replied flatly as he noticed her attention, a wry smirk playing across her tattooed features. Making no attempt to feign an apology, nor offer him a helping hand. The di'kut had got himself into this situation after all. "Which is, admittedly, sayin' somethin', 'cause you kinda look like your relatives have been karkin' for generations."

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

The lowly life of a pit fighter was nothing new to the go lucky mercenary, herself entering as a competitor once every now and then to keep her skills sharp and get in a good beat down on some chum who could actually take a punch and stay standing up. That was not to say Chetika always won, often enough she found herself at the receiving end of just as many punches as she threw, wins and losses being around 50/50 though it was still fun to watch every now and then. Unfortunately the latest round had left that desire unfulfilled, like cheap fair ground food that was never quite filling enough, only increasing ones hunger for more, "What a let down, and here I though that tonight would be interesting".

The quip slightly added to some other woman's remark who sat from across the ring, her words very much being a sarcastic prod into the recently 'disarmed' man. How could she tell? well despite look Chetika was a rather good medic, but even a kid could still see the freshness of the mans missing appendage, the flesh around the wound not fully healed, scar tissue still yet to set in, but the life of a pit fighter did not really have room for quitters so she could understand the man getting back into the fight as soon as possible. Still, Chetika wanted to have fun tonight, heck even if she had to step into the ring herself, anything to get a buzz.

[member="Runi Verin"] l [member="Dredan Criesta"]

 

[Dredan Criesta]

Dredan stood, a glint of anger in his eyes as he clenched his fists. Anger has a way of bringing out his abilities. As soon as the salvager insulted him it was as if a fire ignited somewhere in the pit of Dredan’s stomach. He flexed and pushed out with the force. It was enough to get her attention, “ I am not dumb.” He spoke with a slight grin as he pushed passed the crowd.

The other was more disappointed than rude, Dredan could sense it. “But with me it is always sure to be interesting.” He shot them both a smile as he faced the wall to collect his clothes and a towel for his face. His back was littered with a roadmap of black ink and rippled muscles, “ still getting used to the lack of lefty. The story is thrilling but first a drink is in order.”

Dredan pulled his shirt over his head before turning back to face the crowd.

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Chekīta Kaie"] | [member="Dredan Criesta"]​

The Mandalorian's eyes narrowed a fraction as the force rippled out from the downed fighter, her lips pursing slightly as she fought down the urge to respond in kind with a much more focused and visceral response. Sticking the boot to a man already down, however, just wasn't her style. Even when the karker was practically begging for it. Judging how he'd recklessly thrown himself around the ring, almost seeking the punishment each blow would bring about, he'd probably get off on having his shebs kicked.

"Just look it, gotcha." She replied with a lazy drawl extending the normally clipped tones of her outer rim accent, simply continuing to rest on the divide as another match was being lined up in the make-shift ring. Another mismatch by the looks of it. Just meat for the grinder. Hopefully the main event would prove to be a little more worth her time. "I think you're oversellin' that story. I'm wagerin' you ran your mouth an' your local saber jockey brigade representative got a little testy."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The knight's lips pressed into a thin smile.

The fighting pit had proven to be the antithesis to anything Darius would have preferred, but he wasn't going to find capable combatants out in the woods. He'd contented himself to a corner of the room far from the combat, his attentions never wavering from the fights. Most of these lads lacked the discipline to be anything more than a liability, but a particular few could prove to be real assets to the movement.

Not like I can be picky. We lost twelve boys back on Serenno.

Darius pushed aside the pang of regret that followed in favor of the fight below. It concluded as Darius had expected it would - one couldn't do much in a contest of strength with a stump for an arm. A rather morose looking one at that; Darius eyes narrowed.

I feel the force in you. You're dangerous, unstable.

His gaze followed after the fighter as he made his way into the crowd. Darius interest was piqued, though more toward the side of caution than genuine interest. He remained right where he was as the combatant stepped aside to talk to one of the spectators - something entirely normal, were it not for the shift of energy within the empyrean. Darius felt it like a cold gust of wound; it was as if a voice had shouted out desperately into the void to make sure everyone that might hear it knew it was near. It made Darius wince.

"You're a little rough," the knight muttered under his breath as the bartender thudded a hand on the counter.

"Another?"

"Balmoraan Bluesky this time. It's going to be a long night," a credit chip was slipped the man's way. Content, Darius turned back around to watch the interaction from his private perch, the blue drink left fizzing ineffectually on the counter.

[member="Runi Verin"], [member="Dredan Criesta"], [member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Chetika could not feel the force, but she recognized when someone was using it, the body moving, shift in the atmosphere, force pushes being the easiest to notice. The shift in the dusty floor, the slight swoosh from air being compressed and contracting as the wave moved towards it intended target, which just so happened to be, or at least seem to be, the woman who had expressed her rudeness to the fighter.

Said woman had a mouth of a scorpion, sharp and toxic to the point, with a harsh amount of judgement mixed in, Chetika wondered if the woman purposely goaded people on to see more fights, or just liked to antagonize people. "Well well mister, it seems like someone has challenged your validity, tall order if you pop on trying to impress me to the list... well, go on, enlighten me next round, show me something special". Cheiketa was intrigued to see what little force stunts the man would pull during the next bout, would it be small minor thing, just to slightly throw off his opponent, making it a close fight, or completely wreak and wallop the next fighter and show up those that laughed, 'this is going to be fun'.

[member="Darius Sedaire"] l [member="Runi Verin"] l [member="Dredan Criesta"]