Jandor
Jun 8th, 2003, 06:05:24 AM
-The doors to the recruitment centre slide open and Jandor walked in, in his usual quiet self he sat down on a bench and waited untill he could spot an available Jedi to ask about joining the order.
Jandor looked aroung the large hall, stunned. Jandor found the whole planet so exiting, all the hussle and bussle, all the beautiful architecture.
Born an orphan slave, Jandor had been raised from a young age as a pit-fighter. He hated the life of constant terror and pain but he couldn't just roll into a ball and cry, No, that would have just got him killed.
Instead he trainned hard knowing that every time he stepped into that dark hole in the floor the only thing keeping him alive were his skills.
Inspired at a young age by great stories of the Jedi; Jandor adopted their (what he saw as breathtaking) skills doing his best to adopt his own style, fighting with a vibroblade.
By his teens, he had taught himself to use the force to strengthen his muscles and quicken his moves.
For exotic books and technical papers he traded much of the few values he had, using them, he had built himself two lightsabres and weilded them as a pair.
On his backwater planet he earned himself the nickname of "wardancer", his own style more like a graceful dance then a pit-fighters swings.
Against his better judgement, Jandor made a bet with his owner, he gambled his life for his freedom. His slimey owner couldn't refuse the spectacle of a death match;
Jandor won.
Free for the first time, Jandor, now 23, explored all the wonders the galaxy had to offer but he knew what he wanted to do, what he [i]needed[i] to do.
Utillising his skills to serve the people, bringing justice and light to every darkened corner of the stars was his dream.
Jandor wants to become a Jedi.-
Jandor looked aroung the large hall, stunned. Jandor found the whole planet so exiting, all the hussle and bussle, all the beautiful architecture.
Born an orphan slave, Jandor had been raised from a young age as a pit-fighter. He hated the life of constant terror and pain but he couldn't just roll into a ball and cry, No, that would have just got him killed.
Instead he trainned hard knowing that every time he stepped into that dark hole in the floor the only thing keeping him alive were his skills.
Inspired at a young age by great stories of the Jedi; Jandor adopted their (what he saw as breathtaking) skills doing his best to adopt his own style, fighting with a vibroblade.
By his teens, he had taught himself to use the force to strengthen his muscles and quicken his moves.
For exotic books and technical papers he traded much of the few values he had, using them, he had built himself two lightsabres and weilded them as a pair.
On his backwater planet he earned himself the nickname of "wardancer", his own style more like a graceful dance then a pit-fighters swings.
Against his better judgement, Jandor made a bet with his owner, he gambled his life for his freedom. His slimey owner couldn't refuse the spectacle of a death match;
Jandor won.
Free for the first time, Jandor, now 23, explored all the wonders the galaxy had to offer but he knew what he wanted to do, what he [i]needed[i] to do.
Utillising his skills to serve the people, bringing justice and light to every darkened corner of the stars was his dream.
Jandor wants to become a Jedi.-