The Alloy of a Blade (Songsteel Challenge)

[Gorba the Hutt]

@[member="Garoth Do'Urden"]

Korriban's sun beat mercilessly upon the ribald sands.​

Everything seemed merciless about this barren planet.​

Blistering heat leeched life away like death's hands.​

One giant tomb, what a dreadful, unideal planet.​

​

In a training room, stood Tycho, sheltering from the sweltering weather's demands.​

His green eyes stared at his opponent, fingers wrapped tightly around his sword.​

Dripping from his head fell perspiration from taxed sweat glands.​

He would show his dearest newly knighted friend who in combat was really lord.​

​

"Dear Garoth, I trust you enjoyed your trip through these green meadowlands?" ​

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[Arage Bao]

@[member="Tycho Shorn"]

The training room in which they stood, pristine and clear.​

Circling each other with fury in their mind.​

Sadly it was empty, there was no one to cheer.​

Each step, carefully placed.​

​

In front of Tycho, stood Garoth, facing his only friend.​

This fight, interesting it will be.​

For neither of them were eager to bend.​

Flashing a smile, Vigilance appeared.​

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“My friend, the trip went well. How fare thee, while I was gone?”​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

@[member="Garoth Do'Urden"]

"Oh, I fared passing well. And shall after this, I suspect." ​

Shorn's Sith Tremor sword gleamed in his hand, brightly.​

Elbow up, sharp-edged tip straight, leveled at Garoth's throat.​

Bright green eyes stared and he smiled slightly.​

No armor to speak of, Shorn wore only a tan coat.​

A bout among friends would bloodless be, rightly?​

​

The blade bore no name, not one given by Tycho.​

But listen, as Shorn swings Nameless toward Garoth's head so lightly.​

The wind whispers a swish as edged blade cuts air.​

Shorn's stroke came in swift and sure, truly knightly.​

 

[Arage Bao]

@[member="Tycho Shorn"]

Garoth laughed and bowed in salute.​

Truly, my friend. Your presumption is misguided.​

For we are not in a house of ill repute. ​

Are your talents not there truly ignited?​

Again a smile appeared, to show there was no real dispute.​

​

​

A sword appeared, moving towards his head.​

So quick it cut through the air​

If he did not move, he would surely be dead.​

Yet it met amusement alone, for the Knight moved aside with a certain flair.​

​

​

Then Vigilance returned the pleasure, lunging quickly to the Prince's heart.​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The blonde-haired bladesmen wasted no time with witty repartee​

He let the ring of swords speak, issuing steel tempered raillery​

Vigilance darted through the air, heading toward mortal flesh quite scarily​

Yet 'twas deflected with Tycho's flick of wrist, thinking "Do'Urden shall not get the best of me."​

​

Green eyes calmly stared through the ensuing shower of sparking debris,​

Afore he saw opening and stepped forward, bringing sword up and down in diagonal ripost-e​

The even handed stroke aimed at Do'Urden's collarbone was, as Shorn later declared, "going to cleave thee." ​

Defeat would not become one who trained under Bladeborn's watch, since early days upon father's knee.​

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@[member="Garoth Do'Urden"]​