Jedi Dueling Tournament! Oren V Morrows

[Coren Starchaser]

It was the day, Jedi were coming in from all across the galaxy for the dueling tournament. While a good number signed up, many more were showing up for the networking and rest-and-relaxation that such a tournament would provide for such an event. Setting up a number of arenas around the Temples on (Praxeum World), the Jedi Praxeum was hosting Jedi from all walks to duel for eternal glory.

Or bragging rights and whatever the Jedi Artisans could cook up in their labs. Coren Starchaser, one of the figureheads of the galaxy’s Jedi, was, almost obviously, at the center of the tournament’s idea, but would only be stepping in as an alternate. He had pieced together groups into brackets based on Jedi rank and not necessarily skill levels.

What he had were several rings set up for Masters, Knights, and Padawans to go toe-to-toe. Rules were simple, compete for the time allowed, and anyone who gets knocked down is out. Step to the side, and let the contest continue as others advanced. There would be a benefit for all who participated by the end, but those who rose to the top would earn a few items.

What was happening before the tournaments, was ensuring that armors were removed, any imbued items were removed, and general sparring outfits were granted. From bodysuits, to robes, to other workout gear. Rows of training melee weapons were set up. If someone had a preferred melee weapon? They’d find the mundane, training variant here. Jedi Sentinels from Starchaser’s influence were approaching of the outdoor combat zones. Each were set up to provide enough room to spar, but no real environmental challenge.

[OOC: This thread is is for the Match with Master [member="Oren"] versus Master [member="Jerek Morrows"]]

 

[Jerek Morrows]

A gentle breeze swept across the ring as he stepped inside. The area was large enough to permit freedom for movement, but confined in the sense that it was not a true battlefield. There were parameters, limitations, rules to be followed. It was nothing like a true combat zone, and because of that, there was a fragile calm permeating it. One might even have guessed at Jedi influence.

For Jerek, it was a simple matter to breathe deep the crisp, clean air. To breathe out his anxiety however, that would take a true effort. The Shadow concentrated on his innermost thoughts, specifically on how they ran rampant in solitude, and began to sequester them away for later. There was nothing they could do now but impede him.

His emotions were not torrential, but the excitement, anticipation, and distress related to conflict of any kind did exist. He felt them, and he categorically began to allow them to wash over him. Every instance of sensation was part of the human experience. A Jedi could not simply discard them. They had to embrace them, accept them, learn how to deal with them, and ultimately master them.

That was the theory, at least.

Jerek was a firm believer that in all things, patience won out. There was difficulty in his demeanor as the ocean of doubt washed over, but he managed to wear a serene smile. That was how a Jedi ought conduct himself.

In spite of his demons, he stood strong.

With free-flowing robes swathed around him, only his hands were visible. He fumbled with the training lightsaber, no longer accustomed to the weight of it. Lightsabers were much lighter, and the blades were weightless. He barely used the thing anymore, what with his station. This was one of the first times since he became an Operative that he openly wore the title of "Jedi."

That had everything to do with his presence here, however. It was important that he remain sharp, skillful, and able to protect the people of the Galaxy. Above all, he was a Jedi. He had a duty to be prepared, even if combat never did find him.

 

[Gabriel Pryce]

A Jedi of the Old Republic faced a Jedi of the New Republic. They were two shadows in the beacon of hope that was the Light.

Oren stood in the arena, waiting for her opponent, hood down. Her robes were a mix of light and heavy browns, matching her long, braided hair. Oren offered her opponent a smile before she bowed and activated her blue lightsaber with a whispered snap-hiss.

The blade hummed softly, its power limited to that of a stun. The training mode of her saber held a slimmer blade and lightly illuminated the dark skin of her legs. Her grip switched to a reverse djem so grip as the light breeze tumbled her hair, but before it had fallen back into place she was on him. She came in low, just below the waist, a burst of Force Speed had closed the distance between the two. The blade struck up, diagonally across his body with a right one handed swing, her grip switching to one closer to standard as she followed through with her swing so as to not place her entire flank at risk of counter.

[member="Jerek Morrows"]

 

[Jerek Morrows]

He would have offered a more traditional greeting had time permitted. His opponent offered no such luxury. Jerek felt the turbulence of a shift in the Force- not jarred in the sense that it was being perverted, but changed in a way that only just altered something about the natural order. Something that would change back and not damage the fragile balance. It was obviously the work of a Jedi.

If he blinked, he might have missed her. Jerek saw the movement like a blur, an entire person streaking across the gap in the span of a second, maybe two. The emotions he had reigned in moments before called out for him, warning him, begging him to give himself over to a fight or flight response. Instinct was natural.

Low, he noted the arc of the lightsaber in the split-second he had to respond. His right foot slid backward, placing his left in front as he pressed his left arm downward and out firmly. His blade snapped to life and the two weapons screamed as they connected. He let his weight redistribute to his rear foot.

He took a small breath, letting the breeze cleanse his thoughts. When he exhaled, his body felt warmer, yet comfortable and more at ease. The living Force was his ally, the same as it was for all Jedi.

"Master Oren," he greeted at last with a smile. "I'm honored."

[member="Oren"]