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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2013 19:15:33 GMT -8
Vesten Kor-taan vs. Alkor Centaris
Melee weapons
Top 10 Force
GBA standard rules
*Located in the cantina of the Tarisian Upper City, the dueling ring was a battle arena where inhabitants of the ecumenopolis of Taris could duel to earn credits. The dueling ring was owned and fully-operated by the Hutt crime lord Ajuur, who had ties with Davik Kang, a prominent member of the Exchange. Ajuur personally arranged the fights and often sought match-ups that would be of highest interest to potential spectators. Even though it was sustained through its entertainment value, dueling was considered a viable sport by duelists. The ring is large and round, the floor is made of metal. A large Hutt sits high above the spectators gazing through the windows, as there are no seats, his booming laughter will rain down upon the fighters after every injury that takes place.*
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Vesten Kor-taan
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Post by Vesten Kor-taan on May 5, 2013 20:19:09 GMT -8
Vesten found himself shoved into the dueling ring by a large Weequay minion of Ajuur the Hutt. Another crony tossed his Jedi weapons at his feet and turned away for the door to shut the human in. The man took his time getting to his feet, looking around and taking in the arena and looking for any possible route of escape. For a voluntary fighting ring, it seemed well designed to keep people in.
"I'll play your game, Ajuur," Ves shouted, "But you'll come to regret this."
His threat wasn't necessarily one of a physical nature. That wasn't becoming of a Jedi Master. However, there were plenty of options to cripple the Hutt's organization. That would hurt the greedy slime far more.
"Way to get yourself in this mess," he spoke to himself, hardly in an audible tone. Surely, the Jedi thought, it would have been smarter to leave the sneaking to someone with more proficiency in such matters.
"You just had to try and get that relic alone..." Ves sighed as he bent over to collect his weapons. He latched his lightsaber to the ring of his utility belt and held the staff of his lightsaber pike to his side as he waited for the inevitable arrival of his opponent.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on May 6, 2013 10:38:10 GMT -8
How long had he been here, now?
Alkor glanced up at the sound of the cell creaking open, squinting his eyes to see as light flooded the previously unlit room. "Get up," came the command in brutish sounding huttese, which Alkor only understood because of context clues coupled with a meager amount of aid from the Force. Quaint. Now it chose to aid him, instead of when he needed it back on Ryloth. Back when they drugged him with knockout gas and opiates that kept him lucid enough to remain docile.
But those drugs were gone now, replaced with the soreness of shackles and malnutrition. Alkor's glazed eyes flickered as the shock of being hit trickled through his body, but stood in spite of himself. His grim smile was haunting to the men as he walked past them, cufflinks clattering against one another with each step. He knew this drill well enough- he would fight again, kill, and make the Hutt money. Like the good little pet Jedi he was.
But this fight was different. Today, he had heard, he would face another Jedi. Today, he might finally be free- to live or to die, he was uncertain of. As he was herded like cattle into the cage, they hastily removed his shackles, and the topless Watchman, covered in whip lashes, cuts, dried and still bleeding, smiled as he recognized the man ahead of him. He had never formally met the Master, but then, he had never formally met most Jedi. "Hello, Master," he said cordially, "I hope this accounts for my lack of contact with the Council."
Alkor's weapon slid across the floor, and he lazily bent to pick it up. He sighed loudly as a pain shot through him, then rose and shook his head feverishly. Torture was nothing new, nor was starvation, but fighting a Jedi Master instead of the normal riff raff? That would be fun- if Vesten agreed to fight him at all.
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Vesten Kor-taan
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Post by Vesten Kor-taan on May 7, 2013 20:20:50 GMT -8
Vesten spun quickly to the sound of other doors opening. Impulse caused his grip to tighten on his staff, but to soften when he realized that this other human was a Jedi.
"Alkor?" the Master questioned. He recalled discussions amongst the Council on the Watchman's disappearance but investigations by the Watch had led to hardly more than dead ends.
Ves' posture was tense, as straight and composed as would be expected from a Diplomat. Quickly, he scanned the other Jedi before him. Ragged, beaten, malnourished, all were descriptors of Alkor Centaris. But was he broken? The circumstances made it difficult for the Force-user to glean such information.
Compelled by his nature as a Healer, Vesten took a few long strides toward Alkor. He focused inward, drawing on that powerful Ally that was the Force.
"We'll get out of here," he stated hopefully.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on May 8, 2013 18:22:19 GMT -8
Alkor held up a warding hand, a sad smile on his face, both eyes set upon the floor. "There will be time enough for that later," he said in a quiet voice, concentrating inwardly, doing his best to assuage his pain and focus his mind. It would be a slow start, but with the proper acting on both parts and a seamlessly stitched together impromptu, they would be able to get out of this, as Vesten had put it, alive. The problem now was one Alkor voiced so that only the Master would hear, something akin to a growl. "If we don't make it convincing, they will unload those blasters into us until we are rightly dead."
The crisp blue blade came to life beneath his bent over chest, and his gaze came up to glance at Vesten, lit up by the cerulean glow. "Be most careful, Master; I am feeling rather fragile." He could feel a measure of goodwill in the other man, the way someone opposite of what he had been might have, and guessed at the man's profession within the Order. A healer, perhaps. If so, he could do just the same as Alkor with selective targeting, and they could pass through this relatively unscathed.
Maybe.
Rising to face the other man, blade spinning off to his left, Alkor brought the weapon to bear in the other man's direction. It was time.
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Vesten Kor-taan
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Post by Vesten Kor-taan on May 14, 2013 19:48:28 GMT -8
The man stopped when given the sign of warning. He was already tense, but his concerns were quickly lessened by Alkor's comments. Indeed, it would seem odd to any sane individual to think that a warning about blaster turrets could possibly be calming. However, Jedi faced such challenges throughout their lives. In this case, the Jedi Master was made mostly certain that Alkor was in good enough shape to manage. That was as good of news as any in his predicament.
Vesten shifted, sliding his right foot back and behind him just after Alkor ignited his lightsaber's blue blade. He held his staff at waist height, just a few inches from his body, with his hands spread to shoulder width matching his feet. He did not activate the blade; it was unnecessary for the time. At that moment he reached out to Alkor via the Force, using the most basic of telepathy that Jedi learned. It wasn't exactly a phrase, or even a word, that Alkor would sense. Rather, he would glean a concept.
Ready
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