Morning Glory [Rugs]

[kt]

Focus. That was today's goal, to focus on his training and continue to push ahead of the rest. Torran's routine had mostly consisted of equal parts unarmed katas, meditation, and lightsaber sparring with his fellow initiates. This last part however was becoming less and less of a work out and much more of a boring chore.

As far as his peers went, any actual challenge among them were few and far in between, something that had increasingly bothered Torran. Most it seemed were barely better than children, having either left the Jedi Order as nothing more than padawans and come directly here or else they had discovered their affinity for the Force late in the game, very late.

The kel dor had already finished his martial arts katas, meditated, and did several yoga postures before scanning the area for a potential sparring partner. So far there wasn't anything special, a few initiates here and there sparring together. Being the observational type, Torran spent a few moments analyzing, "Sloppy." He found himself saying aloud, loud enough for the pair to hear it would seem.

"What did you say?" The bigger of the two demanded, his chest swelling slightly as to make himself look intimidating. Pitiful. The second was lithe and considerably shorter, a human by the looks of it, while the bigger was what looked to be a feeorin. Not but a moment later did the duo make their way across the courtyard and rip right past his personal space bubble.

"Wanna repeat that?" The feeorin spoke again, his nose almost touching Torran's mask. "Think you can do better?" The human spoke, his voice high and nasally. The assassin took a moment to consider what to say next, taking time to step back a bit "I said that you both were sloppy. Your stance is incorrect and your swings are too slow and predictable." His tone was neutral as he gave his two cents.

The feeorin gave a low growl before grabbing Torran by the shirt collar. "I couldn't quite hear you correctly..." With that, the hulking marauder made a pass for the kel dor's antiox mask. He would have let the act go with a warning but the Feeorin's fingers had actually managed to dislodge the mask somewhat, something that didn't sit well with Torran.

With lightning fast reflexes, Torran readjusted his mask, making sure to tighten it twice as well before force pushing both men away from him. The trace amount of oxygen that had bypassed his mask was now burning his throat slightly, making him cough for a moment before he drew his lightsaber. They would learn not to pester him the hard way. With a press of a button, the emerald green blade of his lightsaber shimmered dangerously, humming low, joining the other two that were already activated.

"Let me educate you two properly..." With that said, the kel dor lunged at his peers, weaving around their clumsy chops and swings, his movements fluid like water. Their attacks left them painfully wide open, Torran just sighed in disappointment as he slashed at the human's leg, singing it and sending him to the ground in pain. With a roar, the feeorin swung his lightsaber like a baseball bat and missed, terribly, allowing Torran to strike him in the throat with a well placed jab. The larger man gurgled as he too collapsed to the ground, writing in pain.

"What a pain...." The former knight let out another sigh as he crouched down beside the feeorin "What's that? You give up? I can't really hear you." A morbid chuckle escaped him as he made his way to the other side of the courtyard to get out of the sun.

"How boring..."

[Rugs]

Another early afternoon in the Temple, another day that found Nieraan out in one of the courtyards scattered out in the great structure's shadow. He was training, of course, or would call it that if someone up to his level would come around to fight.

Instead, today had proven today was proving to be another day where he spent most of his time facing off against younger, more poorly trained Initiates. The beatings worked well as training for them, he supposed, but beyond keeping his form clean, they didn't really do much for him.

Well, they were funny, sometimes.

The best were the cocky ones. Nieraan had a young face. He was a Firrerreo, and if he lived naturally, his life would stretch on for centuries. At thirty-one years old, he was older than a respectable chunk of his fellows, but he was still very young for one of his people.

The kicker was that once he'd made it through puberty, his aging had slowed dramatically. Physically, he was mature, but he didn't look to be any older than nineteen, maybe twenty.

Surprisingly, it wasn't uncommon for some of the Initiates that thought through their lightsabers, rather than their brains, to come along and try to intimidate him, or challenge him to a fight for what they thought would be an easy victory.

One such lout, a Human with thick black hair and a lilting Alderaanina accent, was presently trying to pick himself off the ground after a hook from Nieraan's leg had knocked his feet out from under him. Nieraan could have ended the fight then, really, with the tip of his blade held to the idiot's throat, but he was having far too much fun for that.

Besides, he'd swiped the poor fool's lightsaber. That didn't happen often.

As the boy tried to scramble back up, Nieraan booted him in the face and sent him back to the dust with a lovely crunch of bone breaking. "Aw, that felt like your nose," he jeered over the sudden screaming, both of his sharp canines showing in a cold, mocking smile. A simple flick of the wrist, and the purple lightsaber in his left had whirred through the air to rest right next to the whimpering Initiate's head.

"Dead."

For the eighth time, he added silently, thinking back to the number of times he could've offed the poor lout during their short-lived fight.

"You're not very good at all," he continued to chide, killing the Initiate's saber and looking at it boredly. "You must be dreadfully weak to get beaten so badly by a kid like myself." He smirked and dropped the saber into the dust. It landed next to the Human with a soft, metallic clang.

"Maybe you'll think twice before making stupid challenges next time," Nieraan said, killing the green blade in his other hand and clipping to his belt next to the other two that hung there. He decided he was down with the boy and turned on his heel, strolling off across the courtyard to see who else was around to challenge.

As he walked, he threw his arms to either side and stretched out his muscles with a satisfied grunt. The courtyard was fairly busy for the moment, several other knots of Initiates were gathered around, fighting amongst each other. He spotted one duo getting waxed by a Kel'Dor and shook his head. Likely more idiots that had picked a fight they shouldn't have.

Finally, he settled on a new spot on the other end of the courtyard, in the shade. Once there, he leaned against the wall and opened his jacket up to let out some of the heat from the afternoon. Normally, heat or cold didn't bother Nieraan much, but it had been unusually hot as of late, even for Korriban.

After a few moments, he even pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the ground, leaving him in his usual grey shirt beneath that fit comfortably over his muscled torso.

Leaning on the wall once again, he let his eyes sweep over the courtyard. The Kel'Dor had finished with the two he--or she, it was hard to tell with them--had been fighting with, and was walking over to where Nieraan was. On a sudden whim of curiosity, Nieraan reached out with his senses to feel out the alien through the Force. Hm... Feels like he could actually be a challenge. I wonder...

"Hey," he called out when the masked creature came within earshot, "you lookin' for a sparring partner?"

[kt]

What was with this heat? It would seem that black was an awful choice in apparel color today, the sun having thoroughly baked the Kel Dor enough to warrant the removal of clothing. After seconds, Torran ditched his heavy black shirt, leaving a thin muscle shirt underneath, exposing his ample biceps as he readjusted his belt. It wasn't until he finished peeling off layers did he notice the man talking in his direction, to him it would seem.

"You lookin' for a sparring partner?"

Torran gave a pause, it would be a lie if he said he wasn't at least a little bit surprised. This one seemed somewhat familiar, perhaps he had seen him wandering the Temple, many initiates inhabited Korriban but this one seemed a cut above the rest. The kel dor briefly tapped into the Force, feeling this curious man's power, or at least try to. This one seemed strong, at least strong enough to give him a good run for his money.

"I would find that most enjoyable I think." If his readings were at all accurate, then this so far nameless man would be just what he needed. "Torran Doe, a pleasure I'm sure." Torran extended a hand for a shake before heading towards the middle of the courtyard. "I believe I can trust you to not disappoint me..." With a quick stretch of his arms, Torran reached down for his lightsaber, the sun shining brightly, reflecting against the smooth curvature of the angled hilt, the bits of Beskar gleaming like sapphires.

"Let's begin." With that said, the kel dor pressed the metallic button, the hissing buzz of his saber ringing pleasantly through his ears(?) before he gave his opponent a formal Makashi salute. Torran waited only a moment before he decided to make the first move, bridging the gap between he and Nieraan with a corkscrewing leap into the air, coming down with a blindingly fast one-handed slash to his foe's head, keeping the rest of his body loose as to evade more easily if need be.

This was going to be fun...

[Rugs]

A satisfied little grin touched Nieraan's face at the Kel'Dor's answer. "Good. I've been looking for a good fight lately."

As the Torran introduced himself, Nieraan probed his presence deeper. Physically, Torran was impressive; he was just a hair taller than Nieraan and heavily muscled. But that didn't worry the Firrerreo too much; he was in excellent shape and very well built himself, as showed in the way his shirt fit over the dips and curves of his muscles.

Torran seemed capable in the Force as well. Nieraan's pride wanted him to believe he held an edge, but it was close. Too close for even his finely-honed senses to tell. And he couldn't say much about what the other Initiate could do with a blade, but he suspected he was quite proficient, if the way he'd cleaned up those two other Initiates was anything to go by.

I'll have to be careful with this one, he thought as he unclipped his saber from his belt. It was the green one--the one he'd taken from a Jedi he killed on Bastion. He didn't spar with either of the blade's he'd crafted himself unless his opponent proved to be worth it. Unfortunately, his navy blue and gold sabers had been quiet more often than not lately.

The viridian blade erupted from its emitter as Torran finished his introduction. "I'm Nieraan," Nieraan said simply, eying the Kel'Dor curiously. His muscles hardened briefly as he tensed his body in preparation, and then relaxed as he made a subtle shift in his stance. It didn't look like much--he didn't even raise his blade--but he was ready. As he waited, the Force flooded into him, waiting for a command.

Torran made the first strike. Neiraan's senses only gave him a heartbeat of a warning before the Kel'Dor lunged through the air at him, blade licking at for him. He's quick, Nieraan thought as he stepped back and raised a hand.

But so was he.

With Torran airborne, Nieraan quickly made a simple counter. The Force concentrated at his lifted hand, and he let his power erupt from it. A powerful push swelled out before him, hurling a wave of energy right at the oncoming Sith.

Nieraan could only hope the Kel'Dor running headlong into what might was well have been a brick wall flying into he opposite direction would have the effect he was hoping for.

Of course, he also hoped Torran would have more ready to throw at him. And he sincerely believed he would.

[kt]

This is what a real fight should be like, a fluid dodge followed by a powerful force push, exhilarating. It would seem that this Nieraan person was just as fast as Torran was, something that had already intrigued the kel dor as he lessened the opposing force push with a small one of his own. As Torran curled into a graceful backflip, his lightsaber-filled hand motioned towards a nearby initiate, urging the force to grasp him and with startling power, throw the unfortunate young woman at his opponent.

It wasn't more than a second before the kel dor had landed like a cat on his feet, a considerable distance away from Nieraan, a smile--if he had the muscles to do so, forming on his face. Torran gave his lightsaber a flourishing twirl as he dashed towards Nieraan in a vaguely zig-zagged line. Upon getting closer, the kel dor gave a diagonal slash towards his foe's torso, quickly turning the attack into a fake out, using his momentum to twirl on his foot and use the force to whip up a large amount of sand into Nieraan's face. Taking the time given to him by the sand, Torran then aimed his lightsaber in a horizontal swing towards his foe's neck. Hopefully it would work...

[Rugs]

A push thrown to weaken the one used against him, and a graceful flip to turn getting thrown back into nothing more than a smooth landing. Nieraan felt a subtle little grin bloom on his face. Yeah, this should be fun. If he can keep up.

The Force stirred and whispered to his sense, drawing his attention. Nothing was immediately coming to him from Torran. Instead, he felt the Force being channeled off to the side. He flicked his eyes to the side and saw a girl from a small knot of Initiates that had gathered to watch the fight picked up and thrown in his direction.

Poor girl. He almost laughed.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't have the time to guide her back down to a safe landing, not when there was a fight going on. He gave a lazy wave of his hand and used the Force to nudge her enough that her course changed and went wide to the left. Hopefully she could do something to right herself before she landed; the hard, dusty stone wasn't a forgiving thing to land on.

As soon as Torran landed, he was charging at Nieraan again, weaving this way and that as he came. Nieraan chose to allow him to get within range this time, and readied his viridian saber.

The Kel'Dor closed, and Neiraan exploded into motion. Torran's first strike was a feint. As the slash down broke off, Nieraan moved forward and to the side, moving with the fluidity of a dancer as he turned in toward Torran. Dust was kicked up at his face, and he countered with an annoyed burst of the Force to push it down, but not before some of it got in his mouth, making him cough lightly. Still, he wasn't some fool new to combat, and he kept his guard up and his movement fluid as he spat to rid himself of the annoyance.

Quick as lightning, Torran acted again, striking hard and fast at the Firrerreo's neck. Nieraan ducked slightly, dipping his head down just low enough that he could almost feel the heat of Torran's saber as it seared through the air over his head. It was a close dodge, but it was precise--he knew what he was doing.

As he straightened up, he took advantage of the moment, hoping to catch Torran before he recovered from his attack. He lunged forward with a single powerful step, trying to put himself inside Torran's guard. His saber licked out like a viper's strike, lashing in a quick, short one-handed cut to strike at Torran's hip. The other hand opened, palm open, and he sent a stiff push at Torran. There wasn't enough time to build the focus to send the Kel'Dor flying, but if he could still hope to throw him off balance.

[kt]

If he hadn't thought it earlier, he was thinking it now, this was just the challenge he needed. Not only was Nieraan able to keep up with him, but it seemed as though he still had quite a few tricks up his sleeve still. If he was sparring with anyone of lesser skill, Torran would have noticed that the rather large circle around he and his opponent was now starting to thin out. If indeed he hadn't been charging at his enemy, Torran would have heard the blood curdling crunch as the airborne initiate landed on the hard, unforgiving ground now very unconscious.

With his mind deviating for but a split second, Torran brought his thoughts back to the battle at hand, smiling as Nieraan cleanly dodged his slash. Never over-extending his swings, Torran's next attack was well on it's way, just as Nieraan made his way past the kel dor's guard, slashing at his hip with blinding speed, following it up with a small force push, one that would have thrown him quite off balance, winning his foe the match. Unfortunately for Nieraan, Torran had become quite acclimatized to very close combat, learning to adapt with ease. With lightning fast speed, the kel dor used yet another Force push of his own, using the narrow gap between the two of them to effectively block the saber strike just enough to twirl out of the way, using the opposing Force thrust to curl into another elegant back flip.

This man's ability to use the Force was thus far satisfactory, that much was certain. What Torran had become curious about now however was his abilities elsewhere. With a few quick steps forward, Torran gave a perfected feint to the left before going back to Nieraan's right side with a powerful tornado kick to the face. Not wanting to give his foe another opening, the assassin turned and gave a smooth diagonal slash upwards, aiming at the torso of his enemy.

[Rugs]

Yes, Torran was skilled. This was good; it'd been too long for Neiraan's tastes since he'd had a good, intense fight with someone that could keep up with and go tit-for-tat with him. Nieraan grinned again, exposing the tips of his canines as Torran flipped away from his strike to safety again.

Why, if Torran proved skilled enough, Nieraan might even take out his own blades.

But there was still fighting and testing to be done. Jar'Kai was Nieraan's true love, and when he sparred, he didn't use it for just anyone. He was still plenty deadly with a single blade.

Still, Torran was proving satisfactory so far, and that gave Nieraan hope.

The girl was ignored as Torran landed with catlike grace; Nieraan cared little for what had happened to her, and even if he had, there wasn't time to do anything about it as the Kel'Dor came bearing down on him again.

He shifted his stance slightly, adjusting his grip on his lightsaber's hilt and slowly pumping the Force into his muscles as he tracked Torran's movements with trained precision. As the Kel'Dor closed, Nieraan purposefully stepped into his attack, moving toward the left and the incoming feint and setting himself firmly. His blade shifted toward his side, but stayed close to his body--a block or parry didn't need to be reaching as long as it stopped or diverted the attack--and was rewarded for it when Torran's strike broke away into a feint. With his blade still in good position, he could counter whatever strike Torran threw at him next.

The next strike came in the form of a quick tornado kick from the right, aimed high at Nieraan's face. Nieraan reacted quickly, raising a Force-strengthened arm to stop the strike and turn it away. The strength behind the blow got a soft grunt from him, but he'd be fine.

It wasn't until the exchange was over that Nieraan realized he could've blocked the kick with his lightsaber instead of his arm and won the match. Hindsight could be an annoying thing at times.

Torran, to his credit, recovered quickly and struck again, with an upward strike at Nieraan's torso. Nieraan defended aggressively, choosing to stop the attack before it fully developed so he could act and make an offensive of his own. The two green blades met low and hissed angrily against each other before Nieraan broke contact forward and attacked out of the block. The Force sped his already-quick movements as his made a quick slash up at Torran's gut that, flowed onward into a second strike as Nieraan flowed to the side, shifting the angle of attack as his blade arced down and around at Torran's back.

{Ok, should prolly cut down on the number of attacks now. Making it a tad awkward to reply to all of them.}

[kt]

This fight was quickly becoming one of the best he had had in ages. The sheer speed in which he and Nieraan were moving was shocking. Each strike exchanged was cleanly parried or dodged, neither landing a hit nor suffering wounds. To the many viewing eyes, it seemed like a face paced dance, perfectly executed as both continued to speed up. Torran was quickly going from pleased, to ecstatic, Nieraan had clearly tapped further into the force, his every action increasing in strength, speed, and precision. It was clear that his opponent was well versed in using the Force to enhance his own body, but luckily for the kel dor, it was his specialty.

A fierce attack came at Torran, a powerful slash upwards, coming back down behind him in a second strike in a single, flowing motion, beautiful. The assassin could feel the heat of Nieraan's saber as it rakes dangerously close to him, Torran having angled his own lightsaber in a way that bounced the opposing saber upwards and quickly positioned his own saber behind his head to parry the second blow.

With not but a split second to spare to think of how best to attack next, Torran used his saber to block Nieraan's blade with still one hand. With his blade again locked with his foe's, the kel dor took the opportunity to step past Nieraan's guard, his free hand opening wide, letting the Force flow strongly through his left arm. With a small grunting laugh, Torran let forth a powerful palm thrust, fast as a nexu and strong as a bull rancor towards Nieraan's sternum before leaping away to get some distance between them once more.

[Rugs]

Nieraan wondered if he'd have to break out the 'big guns,' as it were, with the battle beginning to pick up in pace and intensity. His only real regret was that his specialty was too deadly to use with anything beyond middling power in the sparring ring.

The exchange came quickly, but Torran blocked his attempted strike at his back. Then the Kel'Dor tried to engage in a lock, but Nieraan wasn't stupid; blade locks were often worthless and pointless wastes of energy and strength, unless one engaged in one strategically. The present scenario had no merit for him, so he quickly disengaged, tilting his blade and dragging it away along Torran's.

Of course, he'd be a fool to think his opponent wouldn't take the opportunity to counter, and Torran did just that. However, with his blade tied up from trying to keep Nieraan's away, that limited what he could do a use of the Force or his body.

It came in the form of a palm strike at Nieraan's chest. Rather than wasting time and possibly throwing off position for a counter Nieraan braced for the attack, planting himself firmly against the ground and quickly exhaling to avoid his breath knocked out of him.. He could take the hit, and did, with a soft grunt. It hurt, sure, but he'd had worse--besides, the bruise would likely be gone before the sparring match was even over--if one even formed--thanks to the greatly accelerated healing rates of his people. Being a Firrerreo had its perks.

As Torran withdrew, once again taking one of his silly leaps, Nieraan was ready. His hand shot forward, with fingers clawed and made a swiping motion. The Force shot out from him, as he attempted to grab Torran in an iron grip while he was busy jumping and whip him suddenly back toward him and down toward the ground. After that, Nieraan would be on him, blade arcing in blindingly fast before the attack abruptly broke off and he loosed a powerful blast of the Force right at his stomach.

[kt]

Not surprising in the least, the ever impressive Nieraan took full advantage of Torran's vulnerable predicament. The familiar feeling of the Force coiling around his body and taking hold, pulling him rapidly back towards the solid, unforgiving ground at his opponent's feet. While it would have been entirely possible to break the hold on him, Torran felt no need to expend the extra energy bridging the gap between them when Nieraan was kind enough to do it for him.

Now, while the free ride from the Force was nice, crumpling into the ground with enough force to crush him like an insect underfoot was not. With a quick intake of breath, the Kel Dor let loose a powerful force push towards the ground, softening the landing considerably. With less than a second to react, Torran managed to bat away the incoming lightsaber strike but wasn't so lucky with the second attack. Steel-like abs tightened into a unbreakable wall of muscle as the opposing telekinetic push crashed into his stomach, earning the Firrerreo a modest grunt as he rolled backwards onto his feet once more.

It was crystal clear that this battle would not be won easily, his opponent being able read his every movement, barely, before countering with an attack of equal strength and ferocity. He might even be slightly better than Torran himself. The assassin smirked(figuratively) at the thought, before launching himself at Nieraan with even more speed, the Force aiding in augmenting his already impressive physical capabilities. With a lightning-fast swing, Torran attempted a sun djem, simultaneously striking out with his free hand, aiming a precise attack towards Nierraan's trachea.

[Rugs]

{Alright, like I said, wanna start working on wrapping this thing up. Maybe give another round or two, if that sounds good}

Though Torran was somehow prepared for Nieraan's every attack, the Firrerreo didn't miss a beat as the fight continued. After all, he'd dealt with far worse than whatever this Kel'Dor had to offer. He'd fought his mother time and time again during his training? Next to her strength, how could Torran even compare?

As Torran recovered from his push, Nieraan decided that it was time to turn things up a bit. He knew that, if he wished, he could likely kill Torran with relative ease, with the strength of his abilities in the Force. The problem was that would no doubt be frowned upon, and he preferred to keep some of his cards face down anyway, rather than show off the full extent of his capabilities to the other students. It was always good to keep an ace.

Still, that didn't mean he could pressure the Kel'Dor harder, and that was exactly what he planned to do. In the time it took Torran to think whatever he was thinking, a plan began to form in Nieraan's mind. He'd just have to see what Torran did.

His senses murmured a quiet warning before Torran launched himself at him again. The Kel'Dor's blade licked out at his own, but his attempt at a sun djem was obvious--too blatant coming directly out of a charge. Kamirille would beat him senseless for doing such a thing, no doubt.

As the emerald blade came into contact with the one that was the color of a forest, Nieraan rolled his wrist and moved his own saber forward using the 'forte' of his lightsaber as a fulcrum to assert some control over Torran's weapon. The attack was diverted down and away, and Nieraan kept the blades locked up to keep Torran's saber out of the way. Things were setting up nicely for what he intended to do.

Torran, however was not done with his attack. Predictably, following the pattern of his last offensive, he stepped in to try to strike at Nieraan unarmed with his saber stroke out of the way. Even better, he presented an arm to Nieraan as his had licked out to try to find Nieraan's throat. Even better.

Keeping pressure on Torran's saber to ensure it stayed down, Nieraan leaned slightly aside, just enough to avoid the strike. While Torran's arm was still extending, he raised his own to grab hold of the Kel'Dor's forearm. The intent wasn't to control, though Nieraan's grip would be tight and iron like if he found the Kel'Dor's arm. If he did, almost immediately the Force would pour through him as he used the direct contact to dump Force Lightning directly into Torran.

Oh, it would hurt, but it wasn't full strength. No, Nieraan wouldn't be trying to disable the guy. It was just a friendly spar, after all.

Whether that succeeded or failed, he'd move as the forward momentum from Torran's strike stopped. A smooth step to his left, and an easy disengaging of his blade from his foe's that would immediately turn into a stroke at Torran's waist.

[kt]

This needed to end. The outcome of the battle was becoming quite clear as the fight progressed and Torran knew it in his heart and mind. Nieraan was keeping up with him every step of the way, keeping the battle in a nonstop whirlwind of movement. Torran could feel his moves get sloppy, his chosen style of lightsaber combat proving to be counter productive in the current situation. With his arm now caught, Torran began to twist away before the smell of ozone came a split second before offensive electricity began coursing through his being.

The lightning hurt, quite a bit in fact but it was nothing he couldn't bear, he had experienced such things before after all. With his muscles reflexively clenched, Torran shut out the pain as best he could, using what focus he could muster into one last attack. The Force drew into the Kel Dor in rapid succession, Torran gathering as much energy as he could before releasing it all towards Nierraan in a powerful Force Repulse. Despite the lack of proper charging time, Torran hoped his attack had enough power to break the hold, using the time to catch his breath. He could tell he wouldn't last much longer, his breath exceedingly ragged as he collected himself quickly, straightening out and pouring the Force into his body.

With his incredible speed augmented by the Force even more so than it already was, Torran bridged the gap in a blink of an eye, lashing out in a series of three fluid attacks, spinning like a top as each attack attempted to hit first the knees, then the torso, then the neck. He had hoped atleast one attack would land, he was running out of steam, again, the thoughts of his preferred form crossed his mind.

[Rugs]

Contact, quickly followed by impact. It was fortunate for Torran that the nature of the spar forced Nieraan to hold back, else his arm might have wound up much more damaged than what he was submitting it to. A jolt and some pain was better than burning flesh, after all.

While he hadn't landed the first blow in their fight, Nieraan was pleased; this was the first stroke of substance, and it was his, as he'd known it would be. He'd been confident in the outcome of the spar as always, and he had reason for it.

As he moved to disengage his saber from Torran's blade, he felt something start to shift. The Force yelled at him as a great power welled within the Kel'Dor, and he felt something was coming. He called the Force into his body to give him strength, and then Torran's attack erupted out of him.

The repulse exploded into Nieraan, pushing him back from the Kel'Dor. He was thrown briefly into the air, and pulled himself around so that he came down the right way rather than getting blown out onto his back. His boots skidded on the rough stone with a loud grinding noise as he landed.

Interesting... he mulled, looking at his opponent. That was something he didn't know Torran could do. Now I do, he thought, keeping down a smile. The knowledge in and of itself was enough to make the duel a success; Torran had showed more of his hand, while Nieraan had yet to reveal a thing that the Kel'Dor shouldn't have known.

Fortunately the attack had been rushed. Had Torran had more time to attack, he might have actually done some real damage. But he'd also have to prepare for that, and that would give time and warning to the Firrerreo's honed senses. Something to think on, once the fight was over.

I think it's about time for that, Nieraan mulled to himself, standing up from the crouch he'd landed in. He ignored the soreness the impact had gained him and focused himself. His muscles tensed briefly and relaxed as he eased the Force into his being, and reached out to feel Torran out through his sense was more.

Weariness was beginning to take its toll on the other Initiate. Not completely unexpected, with the ferocity that he'd been attack with, but it was something Nieraan knew he would exploit. All he needed was an opening.

Torran lunged abruptly, and Nieraan prepared himself. In an instant, Torran was on him, his green blade licking out thrice as he whirled like a cyclone. Nieraan stepped back, avoiding the first attack. The second came quickly, before he could quite get his blade up, but as he forced his body to lean back further, he felt the tip of the blade barely miss as it hummed angrily through the air a centimeter away from the front of his chest.

The third strike came, and Nieraan was ready. His green saber came up and attacked into Torran's blade, striking into the motion and using it for his own intention as ducked slightly and forced the attack through and over his head. Without skipping a beat, Nieraan flowed into his reprisal, freeing one of his hands while the other kept forcing Torran's away with momentum. In a heartbeat, his blue saber was in his hand and ignited, and sweeping toward Torran's side.

It would stop before it connected, of course. Nieraan's green blade was set to a weakened strength for the spar. The dark blue saber was not. But all the same, unless Torran could pull a miracle from nowhere, the fight was over.

[kt]

(If it's cool this'll be the last post from me here)


It seemed to be over in a flash, Torran's final attack had missed and there was now a second saber hovering dangerously close to his side. The kel-dor panted hard as his brain finally registered what had transpired just seconds ago. A slow, tired grin wormed it's way onto Torran's face (metaphorically speaking of course) as he deactivated his weapon, the emerald green blade quickly shrinking into the hilt. A small chuckle escaped him as his legs dared to give out, fatigue finally doing him in.

"It would seem as though I've been beaten." He said, in between heavy breaths "Best fight I've had in ages."

"I'm honestly not surprised that you won, really, Ataru isn't really meant for prolonged combat." Torran shrugged slightly, refusing to take a knee as he straightened up. If anything was made perfectly clear, it was that he would need to find another form to pick up the slack if he were ever to beat this new found rival.

"I very much hope we can do this again in the future."

With that said, the kel-dor extended a hand, shaking Nieraan's before heading indoors, a nice tall glass of water and a chair calling his name.

(Torran exit)

[Rugs]

Torran's blade died away. It was over.

"It would seem as though I've been beaten."

Nieraan managed to keep the smile that threatened to a subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth. He pulled his saber away from Torran's side and stepped back, killing both of his weapons at once. "So it seems," he said casually, returning the weapons to their places on his hip.

"I'm honestly not surprised that you won, really, Ataru isn't really meant for prolonged combat."

To this Nieraan just shrugged and gave a little nod. Maybe it wasn't. He was sure his mother would disagree, hard-driving teacher that she'd been. Know your weaknesses, she'd told him again and again, usually after one of her beatings. Address them. They can only be as big as you allow them to be.

Then again, not everyone could have the same sort of instruction he'd been given. As much as he hated Kamirille, he could readily admit that she was the reason he was as capable as he was today.

"You fought well," he said after a few moments. "Better than a lot of the others." Inwardly, he felt some pride that he'd largely beaten Torran with Shii-Cho, with a hint of what he knew from Niman; that meant he'd yet to show his strongest hand in Jar'Kai. That boded well for his own ability, at least in his mind.

"Sure, we'll do it again, sometime. Not hard to find me."

As Torran turned to leave, Nieraan grabbed his coat from where he'd left it earlier. He wasn't as weary as the Kel'Dor felt to his senses, but he'd been sparring even before his fight with Torran. It was time for a break. Maybe he'd return to the courtyard later. Might as well find the runt and get some training done with him.

So Nieraan started to walk, setting his jacket over his shoulder as he strolled back inside. He didn't even notice some of the looks coming from some of the Initiates who'd been watching.