Faction Alchemy 101 (Open to all Darksiders & NFUs)

[Lysander von Ascania]

Lysander surveyed the class from the front. The academy was still rising from the ashes of recent events on Coruscant. Tall windows let natural lighting pass through, and the air was rich with an earthy scent of blended herbs. The prospect of teaching something other than saber instruction was.. curiously engaging to him.

Student kits had been laid out across different tables. Most of the morning was devoted to the task, arranging it all with care. Each contained a small cauldron, glass vials, a stirring rod, a dropper, a tray, a neutral leaf, and powdered crystal.

A hand drifted toward the center table, fingers paused along the edges of his kit. “Alchemy,” said softly, “doesn’t depend on the Force. It depends only on disciplined observation.”

He let the sentence rest for a few seconds. "A Harmonizing Draught, they call it. That is what we're making today. Gentle? Hardly.. think of it more like a blade for the mind."

A neutral leaf was held between his fingers. “Step one.. the base infusion. You will place your leaf into water that's just the right temperature. Warm enough to coax life from it. Too hot and it turns bitter. Too cold and it will never awaken. That is the first lesson. Not success or failure.. but awareness. Those who cannot discern these small changes will undoubtably stumble later, no matter how strong one may think themselves.”

“Step two,” he continued, holding a small vial. “This is where the binding agent comes into play. We’re using powdered crystal. And here’s the key.. add it grain by grain. Patience is essential.”

The liquid took on a dark reddish brown hue.

He guided a slow stir. “Now, as you mix, you’ll notice the solution clouding up.. that’s completely normal. Wait for it to clear again.. that will be your feedback, your signal that things are aligning correctly. For those of you sensitive to the Force, remember to restrain yourselves. Feel what is happening.. don’t force the outcome.”

The gesture was demonstrated, letting it respond. “And for those not attuned to the Force, focus on keen observation and timing.. that is your guide.”

Another pause followed, letting the mixture settle.

Fingers tapped against the vial’s edge. “Now, step three.. is where you stamp your own personal signature on the concoction. Think of it as the ‘you’ in your potion. You breathe into it. No huffing and puffing, though. We’re not trying to start a fire. After is a another clockwise stir. Pay attention here, because this is where most blow it, by rushing, extra twirling. Impatience will wreck the whole mixture faster than you can say 'oops.' So, watch the liquid. See how it moves, how it pushes back like it knows you’re watching.“

A gentle curve of the lips was paired with a raised eyebrow. “Remember, that’s the heart of control. Not just in brewing, but, well.. life. Lets try to avoid blowing anything up today, yeah? Got it? Perfect.”

After, he stood quietly, ready to respond if questions arose. Surely some would flourish with a little guidance, while others may find their own way through observation alone.

 

[Ghruna]

GHRUNA

Ghruna had bumped into the table as she arrived. The glassware made enough noise that she muttered under her breath with embarrassment.

Ghruna had a strong sense of smell. The sharp scent of herbs mixed with something deeper, almost like the tang of a storm. She wrinkled her nose and eyed the kit laid out before her with mild suspicion. Vials. Leaves. Stirring rods. It looked more like a healer’s table than anything suited for a warrior.

She sat with her arms crossed, tail flicking slowly behind her, legs barely fitting beneath the bench. Her horns nearly brushed the curtain of hanging herbs above. This was not a space made for her.

Still, she watched Lysander closely. She did not know much about alchemy, but she knew enough to respect things she didn’t understand.

By step three, Ghruna was still trying to finish step one.

Impatience will wreck the whole mixture faster than you can say 'oops.'

Ghruna grunted in frustration.

 

[Kaiva Rowe]

Kaiva arrived without ceremony, moving with the kind of composed ease that neither sought attention nor avoided it. There were no hurried steps to announce her presence, no shift in the room's rhythm to mark her entrance, no disruption of the steady cadence already in motion.

She paused just inside the doorway, allowing herself a moment to take in the room as a whole before committing to any movement. Her gaze swept over the tall windows and the way the afternoon light filtered through them, softening the edges of the tables arranged in deliberate patterns. She noted the layered scent of herbs, balanced carefully enough that no single note dominated—and the calm, measured cadence of Lysander's voice as he finished his instruction. Even the subtle variations in posture among the students were immediately apparent, each offering a small piece of information about their focus, confidence, or uncertainty.

Patterns formed quickly, as they always did for her.

Who leaned forward with intent.
Who leaned back in hesitation.
Who watched their hands more than the liquid.
Who watched the liquid more than themselves.

Only after completing that quiet survey did Kaiva move, choosing an empty place at the edge of one of the tables rather than at its center. It was close enough to participate without being intrusive, and far enough to observe without drawing unnecessary focus.

Her kit remained untouched when she sat. Kaiva did not reach for it immediately. Instead, she rested her hands lightly on the table and allowed her attention to settle on the nearest mixture. She watched the way the surface tension shifted when someone stirred too quickly, the faint ripple that signaled impatience rather than intention. She noticed the slight discoloration in another student's vial, the early warning of imbalance that would need correction before it deepened. Across from her, Ghruna's stiff posture and the faint irritation tightening her jaw caught Kaiva's eye.

Impatience, Kaiva thought quietly. Not carelessness. Just urgency with nowhere to go.

Only then did she begin.

She lifted the neutral leaf between her fingers, turning it once, then again, inspecting its texture and moisture with the same calm precision she applied to everything. Her movements were unhurried and economical, each one chosen rather than wasted. When she placed the leaf into the warmed water, she did so at a shallow angle, watching for the first subtle shift in color before releasing it fully.

No Force guidance. No unnecessary flourish. Just attention.

As the infusion began to wake, Kaiva adjusted her posture by a fraction, leaning in just enough to listen to the mixture as much as she watched it. Her expression remained composed, but there was intent behind her stillness, a quiet focus that shaped the space around her.

A soft breath left her, barely audible.

"Awaken," she murmured under her breath, not as a command to the mixture, but as a reminder to herself to remain present, patient, and receptive.

She reached for the powdered crystal next, tapping a single grain onto her palm before letting it fall into the vial.

One. A pause. Another.

She did not look at Lysander. She did not look at the others. Her focus remained entirely on the slow, unfolding conversation taking place in glass and water, a dialogue of temperature, density, and intention.

Only once the mixture began to clear did she glance sideways, her gaze resting briefly on Ghruna. There was no judgment in her expression, no amusement at the other woman's frustration—only a thoughtful, quiet recognition.

As if noting gently, without speaking it aloud: You will get there. You just have to stop fighting it first.

Then Kaiva returned her attention to her own work, patient and precise, settling fully into the rhythm of the lesson as though she had been part of it from the beginning.

Lysander von Ascania Ghruna

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

​

Theme: Season Of The Witch
TAGS: Lysander von Ascania | Ghruna | Kaiva Rowe

A small figure dressed in black robes the hood pulled over stood in the back of the room. Listening intently to Lysander von Ascania teachings on alchemy. Taking in his methods for the practice of the finest of arts Alchemy. Finesse and patients were the two key fundamentals that he seemed to teach well. Tamsin wasn't here to learn so much as observe the methods and practices which Lysander used.

She had already taken the fundamentals of alchemy back at Korriban Academy. That time seemed so long ago now yet it had been a little over a few years now. She quietly watched his teaching methods as her eyes scanned the others who had come to learn this art. Noting the tense unease of Ghruna and the calm calculation of Kaiva Rowe .

Tamsin herself no expert in alchemy but competent enough saw flaws in both methods. The demon in her, who was none to quiet in her head was called this whole class a sham. Mouthing off about how it wanted to wipe these amateurs out of existence, especially the teacher. Yet as it rambled on in Tamsin's skull, she just ignored it as best she could.

In truth it had been Tamsin's sister Darth Anathemous who had spoken well of this Lysander. It was part of what had brought her to this class to observe him. She finally picked up the leaf on the small lab in front of her and just looked it over for a moment. The leaf seemed pretty common, as she tried to identify the species of tree it might come from. As she couldn't exactly pinpoint its origin she set it back down on the counter.

Her hand then moved gently to pick up the powdered crystal. Again, she examined it closely noting its granulation and the slight glint it gave off if turned in the light just right. She then set it back down and dipped a single finger in the water testing it the temperature just slightly above room in its unaltered state.

As her finger sat in the water her eyes looked towards Ghruna with worry as she heard them grunt in frustration. Her finger began to swirl around in the water counterclockwise as her eyes fixated on the young Maldrani. A violet Ichor began to swirl into the water in front of her turning it a mist violet as she just watched ahead of her. Looking to see if Lysander would catch the issue brewing.

 

[Eurydice]

Direct: Ghruna
Indirect: Lysander von Ascania Kaiva Rowe Tamsin Starfall
​

Patience and observation were two aspects Eurydice had in spades. Still, she worried. She always worried.

Mercy had suggested she attend this lesson to expand her budding skill in alchemy. The Seer hesitantly agreed, but it had taken a titanic amount of willpower not to flee from the classroom at the sight of their instructor.

Nothing good came from an Ascania.

Accordingly, she chose a seat in the corner. Farther away from the blonde menace. However, this arrangement had her next to a towering Minotaur of a woman - one who didn't seem particularly suited to delicate glassware.

Maybe she'd surprise them, Eurydice gave a second thought. Maybe she had the bearings of a master alchemist beneath all that brutish muscle.

Wait…was that a tail?

Only now did she realize that she'd been staring for far too long. In an effort to correct this awkward slight, she gave Ghruna a wavering, oddly angled half-smile.

Then, she abruptly turned back to her own cauldron. Her focus remained squarely and acutely on the leaf as it floated lazily in the water. Little bubbles drifted to the surface.

A beat of sweat dribbled along Eurydice's scrunched brow, and plinked into the simmering pot.