Eddo Marr

Moments after the shots rang and blackness filled the air again another figuire walked through the door I exited moments earlier. He talked big for such a small senient but what caught his ear was, "Nautolan". This must be the ship captain I thought to himself. But thats not what I was interested for the moment whoever the shooter was either saved my life or wanted to take it for himself. as for the Nautolan he kept walking my way, I could tell he was lost in the dark. without a moment more of delay I crouched down and walked along the wall on all fours hoping not to be heard. I came across a body that was holding a blaster. for a moment he pointed it at my direction, then he slipped it into his holster and put his hands up. I stood up to full height then dipped back down and picked up the humanoid he was beaten like me. I slung him across my shouder and began to walk towards the Nautolan captain. I spoke, "You wanted to meet me? Sir?"

I found my way to the tunnel door when a Gran from the crowd made his way down to the pits edge. I spoke to me in an alien language. I look at him puzzeled. I turned to the rodian and he said, "Apparently you have attracted the attention of Nautolon ship Captain. and he would like to speak with you in the Cantina." I nodded to the Gran and walked my way out. Inconveniently the lift to the Cantina was inoperable duel to a random act of 'accidental blaster fire'. The luxury lift would have made a better impression. So I had to go out the way losers take, The Alley. The medical bot was unavailable, it was treating the Hutt who tail has been slightly burn by a hooligans wild fire. However its more likely the careless slob placed his tale on the exhaust shutter of the luxury power sled. Walking into alley it was dark and dank trash strewn the edges of the walls, a few bodies either dead bodies or near dead laid around. I saw a group of humaniods and a pig walk out towards the street. The pig glanced back at me with a grimace, yep that guy lost in the bet. I turn around and looked for anything to banage my wound of some near gone bottle of something to take the edge off. I hear heavy steps behind me, I swung around to find the pig with a one handed cleaving axe swing to meet my head. Suddenly, two blaster blots split the silence. One hit the pig in the hand and the other passed through the back of his head and out an eye. he dropped to ground. The shot came from the shadows, some was in there laying on their back.

CRACK! Thunder sounded once more in the Blood Pits of Nar Shaddaa. I grinned as the Feeorins legs went limp. Krey shrilly yelped as he lost all feel from below and pain continuously struck the base of his skull. My arms burned with exhaustion so he let free the crippled fighter. Krey plummeted to the ground and fell face first. A dull groan came from his quivering lips as he attempted to speak. In this single violent act, the crowd burst with amazement and cheer. I looked again at the fallen Feeorin pondering how to dispatch him with out much effort. Suddenly a voice boomed of the telecom system, ”œWait! Champion His Excellency requests you do not finish the fight!”

Looks good to me.

I kept circling Krey, leaping back in forth, to and fro to avoid lighting fast shots. I wasn't just reacting. I kept this going till finally I was near enough to what I wanted, now I let him get too. I slit appeared on the rear of my leg as bubbles of blood lifted in to the air. So I rolled, than sprung on to all fours. The sting shot up my leg, constantly pound in my head. I neared it, then with another rolled I picked it up and started on two legs again. Quickly I loosened my remaining shield's straps. The Item I grabbed was the smaller third that was whipped off a minute or two ago. I curled the larger half with my left arm and hid the smaller in my right. The Feeorin swung the whip back. I let loose the larger half. It spun in a arc side ways he began to raise his shield in anticipation blinding himself and delay his own attack. I threw then the second piece straight. Blood poured from the large tendril as it nearly slashed halfway through. Immediately the Feeorin began to loose his footing and speed falling to one side as he ran. He still tried to go through with his next strike but the pain of severed nerve cluster put the whip well above and away from me that it was laughable. He cringed his face and a barely audible 'ergh' was heard I pressed the advantage pouncing the fallen fighter, with claws out I landed on his shield and shoulders. Immediately fists began flying towards my face and neck, he wasn't out and the fight seemed far from over. All this time cheers and cries came from the crowd of exuberance and fear as betters on both sides seemed to rise and fall like rippling water. I only took notice this myself when flying through the air after getting to large Feeorin feet kicked into my chest. I landed hard after spinning in the air. Cats great and small always land on their feet. Krey to no time getting back on his, his whip landed diagonally across my chest, it looped several times before the barb found a good place to stick. He pulled me to himself with all his might to bring me within striking distance of the business end of his shield. It was crumpled but the edge was sharpened. I ducked the incoming blow, I lunged and got behind and beneath him. With a powerful thrust I picked up the blue squid-headed reptile at the waist and locked my big furry arms around him from the back. Panting I began to constrict with all my might. With my sternum pressed to his lower back and my locked wrist in his abdomen, it was a matter of time till one gave way.

I stood at the most outer ring of the pit. The door to the tunnel slid shut with a hiss as Waylen made his final facetious remarks, ”œGood luck!”

Its' been years, at least a decade since I entered a pit. Standing in the tunnel and watching as two mediocre fighter slugged it out, the Feeorin stood in a tunnel opposite of mine, leaning against a shield with a coiled up whip in on hand, staring at the fight with disappointment. I wasn't as tall as me but his muscles are big. He looked at me, I knew what he meant, He was saying, ”œGive me a better fight than this.”

The dimly lit locker room shuttered as the amassing crowds cheered and roared in the stands above. They impatiently wait for the clash of champions and a lot of blood money was on the table. Chips and clouds of ferrocrete dust settled upon my mane. A locker marked with my name was waiting; anything would be a welcomed addition to the rugged pair of cargo slacks I wore. I opened the closet to find, nothing. It took me a little bit to realize that my master, Waylen Jentz, had little faith in me winning. It was a rumour that Waylen's competition had hired out, and the fighter was Feeorin. Those lizards are nasty customers and my heart began to sink, I am no trained fighter and no telling the age this one will be. A fellow enforcer told me that he met a Feeorin that was well over 160 years and had a birth certificate to prove. I could not believe I could fight and win, no telling my age and what I can tell is that I'm slowing down. A door off to the left slid open with a hiss. My master was waiting outside. He spoke in his gruff voice, ”œIts time Eddo.”

Identity [!ident] Real Name: Eddo Marr A.K.A: Thunder Paw Homeworld: Togoria Species: Togorian Physical Description [!dscrp] Age: 35 Height: 3 meters Weight: 186 Kg Fur: Golden Orange Eyes: Violet Blue Sex: Male Equipment [!equip] Clothing or Armor: : Light infantry breast plate for torso, enviro-undershirt, cargo pants, czerka utility belt, A low grade alloy melee shield, black need pads, and a red scarf. Weapon: Retractable Claws: Razor-sharp. Natural Brute Force: Powerful limbs with immense amount of strength. Common Inventory: medkit, battlestim, and few credits Faction Information [!factn] Non-Force User Alignment: Neutral Current Faction Affiliation: Current Faction Rank: History: [!hstry] Force Side: Grey Trained by: Self Trained who: Self Known Skills: Minor self defense and close combat, Background: All the life Eddo Marr knows is growing up in the slavery slums of Nar Shaddaa. But he knows that he was not born there, he remembers scents and scenes of his home world in blooming spring and a greater paws holding his. Fighting came naturally for the displaced sentient child as with no one to provide for him, he had to fight for every scrap he could eat. His owner recognized his talent to fight and sold hit to a small time gang lord. Only a few months later after being teased and starved did the youth make his first kill at the age of 14, a Gamorrean and a rather fat on at that. This killing propelled his career as a pitfighter and as he grew larger so did his strength also, few species were a challenge anymore. With a victory being so common few rose to challenge him and he found himself without purpose. Not wanting to lose profit or territory his owner sent him out as an enforcer. He was given the alias of ”œThunder Paw”