Private Mando'ad sparing

[Laphisto]

Word had reached Laphisto only a few days earlier that another Mandalorian had entered the ranks of the Lilaste Order. The news had earned little more than a raised brow. Mandalorians were hardly unheard of within the Order, but each carried their own traditions, loyalties, and understanding of what it meant to wear beskar. Some adapted quickly. Others struggled to reconcile military discipline with the customs they had been raised alongside. When the request for a sparring session arrived, however, it came as no surprise. If there was one thing Laphisto had learned over the centuries, it was that Mandalorians preferred to learn about one another through crossed blades long before lengthy conversations.

The appointed training room had already been cleared by the time he arrived. Thick durasteel walls bore the familiar scars of countless training sessions, while inactive remote drones rested in recessed charging alcoves around the perimeter. Weapon racks lined one wall beside a collection of practice blades, staffs, and shock weapons, their orderly arrangement broken only by the occasional mark left from years of use. Bright overhead lighting reflected faintly across the polished floor, interrupted only by the circular sparring mat occupying the center of the room. and so he sat and waited for Nolan ork to arrive

 

[Nolan ork]

“Oh sorry I’m late”

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto looked over at nolan wth a perk of his ear, his eyes flashing a golden glow with crimson red etched along the edges as he activated his force sight, pokng and peering into the man's alignment to the force, before giving a soft wince, grabbing at the bridge of his nose when he finished. Laphistos own force signature was heavy. falling off of him in troves like fog rolling off of a cliff's edge, a mix of both light and dark side energy." You're fine, Vod. What sort of training are you looking for here today?"

Nolan ork

 

[Nolan ork]

“what kind of lightsaber training do you offer”

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto thought for a moment before eying the man over with a raised brow " just about any you could need, granted. my fighting style is less.. traditional than this newer age of lightsaber combat"

 

[Nolan ork]

“I’ll just warn you I’ve mastered all 7 forms of lightsaber combat”

 

[Laphisto]

His hand settled around the hilt of the Broad Saber at his hip. the blue blade sprang to life with a sharp snap-hiss, its glow spilling across the durasteel floor. Taking a measured step back, he settled into a close right guard. Both hands remained low near his right hip, the hilt held close to his waist while the blade angled diagonally upward toward Nolan ork , its point resting squarely on the centerline. His elbows stayed relaxed, shoulders loose, and feet planted beneath him in a balanced stance that gave away little movement. There was no flourish, no unnecessary adjustment only the quiet stillness of someone who had assumed the position thousands of times before.


"Whenever you're ready."

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan unclilped his lightsaber from his belt activated both sides and stood with the saber in front of his body like a T shape “ready when you are”

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto's lone ear flicked as he studied Nolan's stance. The double-bladed saber occupied the centerline, threatening either direction equally. A slow breath followed as Force Valor settled over him, the familiar surge sharpening both body and mind. Without another word, his free hand swept outward.

Several loose durasteel training plates tore free from the deck with a shriek of stressed metal before accelerating toward Nolan in staggered succession. They weren't thrown all at once. Each followed a slightly different line, forcing multiple defensive decisions rather than a single block, trying to deny the Mandalorian the opportunity to settle comfortably behind his guard.

Nolan ork

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan blocked each of the steel plates that were thrown at him “is that all you got”

 

[Laphisto]

A quiet chuckle escaped Laphisto as one brow lifted. "Not quite, vod." He made no move to close the distance. The broadsaber remained low in its guard as he drew a measured breath, the Force flowing through him with practiced familiarity. There was no warning beyond the subtle shift of his shoulders.

His free hand snapped forward. The air cracked as a concussive blast erupted from his palm, racing directly toward Nolan's chest with enough force to throw an unprepared opponent off their feet.

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan flew back but was able to catch himself

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto flicked his lone ear softly. he seemed unwilling to close the distance yet. aiming to try and force nolan to close the distance

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan came close attacking laphisto with precision “wow your giving me a run for my credits I’m amazed at how good you are at this”

 

[Laphisto]

When the man got closer, he reached out, channeling tutaminus alongside the lightsaber-resistant material of his armor and reached out to grab the man's blade, aiming to deliver a kick to his chest and a jab with his own saber." When you have fought since before the invention of the lightsaber, you learn a few tricks."

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan backed out of way “your tricks seem to have paid off”

 

[Laphisto]

A soft chuckle rumbled in Laphisto's throat as he stepped into range. His broadsaber carved through the air in a powerful horizontal cut toward Nolan's midsection, forcing the Mandalorian to either intercept the strike or give ground. The moment the attack occupied Nolan's attention, Laphisto released one hand from the hilt and shifted his weight forward, his free fist snapping toward the man's face should the opening present itself.

Nolan ork

 

[Nolan ork]

Nolan intercepted the strike shoving laphisto back

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto sprang backward, opening the distance between them before rolling the broadsaber through his hands in a smooth flourish. The motion ended with his left forearm drawn across his chest, the flat of the blue blade settling against the Kov'dra bracer that encased it. The point never left Nolan, remaining angled forward from over his shoulder as sparks spat from the contact between plasma and alloy.

The Kov'dra accepted the heat without complaint. A dull crimson glow spread across the gauntlet, brightening steadily as the alloy conducted the blade's thermal energy throughout the metal instead of allowing it to collect at a single point.


[ poor stick figure drawing of what i mean lmao]

Nolan ork