Built from the shell of an ancient foundation, the Arx Colosseum has undergone renovations to allow multiple new configurations for battle. Its spectator setup remains largely the same, with high walls, tall enough for even the most savvy Jedi to find unscalable that lead up to spectator chairs which are divided into nearly organized sections to accommodate several thousand people. At the center, an elongated platform “box” contains a central throne of stone with various seats of smaller scale lined beside it in both directions. Two large holo-projection screens are set up on each side of the Colosseum, offering different angles of the match bia holocam drones.

Today’s setup is known as The Bridges.

High-suspended walkways cross and weave through multiple levels of platforms. Some are solid, metal and duracrete crafting an unmoving foundation. Others are mere rope and wood, swaying with even the most gentle of breezes.

Below the walkways is a void filled with mist, the ground unseen for combatants and spectators alike. Periodic ripples of electrical energy can be seen through the mist, hinting to the deadly nature of the arena floor below.

Vincent Brujah walked across one of the duracrete walkways, keeping his eyes on his immediate surroundings for his opponent. He had vowed to himself when entering this tournament that he would destroy anyone that faced him. Deep in what little heart he had, he wanted desperately to prove himself. He wanted to show the Brotherhood that he was possibly their most capable of fighters. He wanted the name Champion.

But up to this point, the battles he had been in were less than the impressive showing he had hoped for. His first had him and his opponent hiding in shipping containers and agreeing to a duel before being interrupted by battle droids. In his second round match up, he had to encourage his opponent to even raise a fist against him. In neither did Vincent find the challenge and opportunity that he was looking for. He hoped that this round would be a different story, but so far he had not seen his opponent to know what he was in for.

Reaching out with his senses, he felt a presence above him. He looked up and found what appeared to be a mostly nude Kiffar laying on a rope bridge a few meters above him. A deep sigh exited his helmet.

"You have to be joking..." the Sith said.

Reaching to his side he pulled a lightsaber hilt into his hand and activated the red blade with a hiss. He tossed the lightsaber upwards and then guided it to slice the bridge into two pieces before calling the saber back to his right hand. The Kiffar seemed to awaken just as the bridge gave. He fell to the duracrete walkway below with a thud and a loud "OOF!". Giving his opponent a closer look, Brujah noted that he was wearing nothing more than yellow boxing shorts and a pair of shockboxing gloves. The Kiffar grumbled from the ground as he worked on bringing himself to his feet. A deep voice rang out from within the helmet of the Sith.

"I take it that you are my opponent this round. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vincent Brujah, and I have come to Arx to slay all those who would oppose me. So, let me ask you Kiffar... did you come to fight, or did you come to play games?"

Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, the Kiffar stood and tilted his head first left and then right popping his vertebrate. He didn't speak, but instead took up a boxing stance. It was one that Brujah was familiar with from his time in the fighting pits of Tatooine. It had been many years, but Vincent was once a top-tier shockboxer. However, after joining the Brotherhood he put his gloves aside in favor of lightsabers.

The Kiffar didn't answer, instead moving closer to Brujah and dancing around him, shadowboxing towards him.

"Great. Just great." Brujah thought to himself before being struck in the helmet with a calculated, but soft jab.

A "bzzt" sound rang out as the glove made contact with the Dark Age Sith Armor, but Brujah did not move except to drop his head in what appeared to be disappointment.

"I'm wearing armor you karking idiot!!"

Tisto hopped back with a smile. He opened up his hands, wiggling his fingers after the strike and began to stretch.

"Yes, yes, you are wearing the eternal symbol of being afraid of getting hit."

Instinctively, Tisto took a few steps further away from his opponent. He held up his hands in a gesture asking for a few moments, then waved his hands to the crowd. The Kiffar was pleased to see that Vincent was humoring this. Still, always better to be sure.

"You are that ex gladiator from Scholae Palpatinae right?" Tisto attempted his appeal to the man's inner athlete. "I'm the reigning cruiserweight champion of Odan-Urr. I just came from a fight where my opponent was messing with my head. It sucked. I joined this whole tournament because I am an athlete. I wanted real fights. And here you are. An opponent with a storied history, a crowd to cheer us on, a floor that isn't trying to melt me alive. I was thinking, I don't know this guy but..."

Tisto let that hang in the air, hoping the tease of the first punch and talking this up would work on his opponent's ego. He couldn't read anything behind his opponent's mask, but Brujah made no move.

"What do you propose?" Brujah's voice sounded almost hopeful at the prospect. "And how do I know this isn't some Jedi trick?"

Tisto gestured at his outfit before blowing a kiss towards the crowd. "I don't exactly have much space for hiding tricks now do I? Now I don't know about you but a good fight needs a cheering crowd."

Tisto was delighted to see his opponent nod at that. A real fight... now to get the crowd roaring.

"Please my friend, why don't you get us started!" Tisto thrust his arms above his head waving at the crowd in the area before gesturing to Vincent.

The Sith did not need any time to get ready. He started by taking off his helmet, resting it under an arm so he could show off his scarred and bearded face. "I am the one and only Vincent Brujah! Many of you might have heard of my work. Not only was I the former Quaestor of the mighty House Caliburnus I was so good at the job they begged me to take up that mantle again."

Brujah raised his lightsaber over his head, lighting himself in its red glow. "I have spent time as the Left Hand of Justice. I was a deputy to the Combat Master. I was a Proconsul to my clan! Each scar on my face has been earned in combat, fighting and killing anything from athletes like yourselves, to Jedi like your clan! You are not even in my weight class, kid This is going to be a slaughter."

The crowd erupted in cheers with the unexpected spectacle. Camera droids moved in to get good views of the display. Excellent, Tisto’s mind raced as the crowd embraced the hype building.

Tisto crashed his fists together, causing a flash of blue as the electricity flared to life. Droids turned their cameras towards him. "I can't claim to have held such lofty positions as you. I am a mere padawan, no Jedi killer. The Jedi Lord of House Hoth, slayer of one of Arcona's false gods. I bet you pride yourself on your combat skills, but can you even last two minutes? Careful not to get too winded calling to the crowd old man."

Tisto shot finger guns to where he thought his friend would be sitting. "I am Odan Urr's sixty-minute man. The ladies call me oh god, but you can just call me Tisto."

There was a roar of laughter from the crowd. From the direction opposite of where he was pointing, he could just barely make out a shout of, "Karking dammit Greencheeks!"

The two fighters nodded at that, the crowd cheering and jeering for their match to truly begin. Tisto fell back into stance, making himself small, standing on the balls of his feet but crouching with his elbows bent in. Vincent bent his knees slightly as he turned his body sideways, his left side facing the Kiffar.

Tisto was not surprised when Brujah took the offensive, advancing with a swing that seemed to be like how you would swing a bat. Tisto was ready for this, a familiar heat flowing through him that he focused into a barrier. The saber collided with his use of the Force, and Tisto stepped down on Vincent's leading foot. His flesh met the man's boots, keeping him in place, and was followed by an upper cut to the ribs that only hit armor. Electricity crackled against the Sith Alchemy forged plate, and Tisto had to retreat as Vincent slammed his saber into the barrier again. Despite his best efforts, panic flashed on the boxer's face and his eyes quickly darted to the lightsaber.

The Kiffar stepped back further as he avoided another swing that passed uncomfortably close to his left arm.

What do I do now?