Draven Eterena
The Storm Rider
Auraya Irath-Ur
It was another late evening for the young man. His hair damp as if though it rained from his sweat, his knuckles, elbows, and knees were all a bloodied mess, and his breathing labored. Before him laid a pile of rubble. Chunks of which indicating where his wounds had come from. As Draven found as the nights passed his aggression worsened in his unarmed training regiments he used to try and find clarity of mind. This night was one of the worse, as he grabbed some wrappings and did his best to patch himself up. He'd need to probably transition to weapon training in the future. As the wrappings were messy as it was clear patching people up was not his strong suit. That or something new to do.
Draven was actively trying to avoid returning to Kashyyyk as Draven had heard about the death and destruction on his order's home world. The young man knew that if he went there, he'd reach a shatter point. As he was treading a very fine line between flirting with the dark side in an effort to start righting the many wrongs this galaxy was facing. It was also for similar reasons. Draven had left his supplies secured in the ship he was lending for transport purposes. He didn't trust himself with his more dangerous possessions at this moment. As he'd been stirred out of sleep with another one of his vivid nightmares. This one had been pertaining to his time in a time loop.
Draven's life had been on repeat long enough that many events had unfolded in the galaxy around him. While he himself was trapped in stasis keeping him alive and sustained at the age of sixteen. While he relived the same day over, and over within his consciousness. The day in question pertained to the start of the end for an ancient civilization in the outer reaches. The planet was where he'd finally acquired a unique crystal which would be implemented in crafting a lightsaber. (Ooc: Giving the creation thread for this weapon is incomplete. I'm intentionally avoiding further description, and usage of this lightsaber. Until I have all the details. Considering the pace in which the thread is moving along. If it maintains that pace. I should have the entry before the end of this upcoming week.
)
During the dream he relived the first few moments of the time loop. Draven would wake up amidst a layer of flames. His body charred and open wounds present as he needed to act quickly. Using the force Draven would douse the fire. From there the dazed and injured teenager looked about. His head ponding as his attention caught onto a body near him ruble on top of their corpse. The unrecognizable individual had possessed a staff within their hands. Draven was pretty certain he'd been struck by staff. Prior to whatever had set the place ablaze. He got up unsteadily and wobbled trying to get his bearings. Before painfully making his way out of the building. Leaning on the force to provide what strength he could muster to push forward. Once out of the building Draven found himself stumbling into the streets of a village. Buildings were ablaze, and bodies lined the streets. A mixture of wounded, dead, and mourning folks. Draven was hit unprepared by the wave of overwhelming emotions.
Draven forced himself through the street seeking out one of the healers who were attending to the wounded. One of them caught a glance of him and rushed over knocking him into a seated position and cursing him out in a language Draven couldn't recognize. The woman was fairly elderly, had an almost bronze colored skin and silvery hair with electric blue eyes. She was tall and well structured. Starting to attend to his open wounds and burns. Draven's head pounding as he closed his eyes and tried to force the emotions out. Wishing he was force dead... or better yet dead. As the agony, rage, sorrow, and fear was proving hard to contest against. Draven's senses suddenly dialed up to an 11 as he reached out with the force and tossed the healer aside. Creating a force barrier just in time to deflect a blade aimed initially to strike the woman down. The would-be attacker was twice as tall as the woman, placing him nearly thirteen feet tall. The blade was equally impressive in size and Draven was exerting a lot of his remaining energy is stalemating the blade from striking him or being pulled away.
To his appreciation a moment a pair of the healers tackled the attacker and began to dispatch the man. Despite Draven noticing the skin color of the man was similar to the others. Unlike most of the people whose eyes were glowing and brightly colored. This man's eyes were a dark purple and felt like peering into a void. His veins had begun to blacken, and Draven's adrenaline was coursing through him. Draven was glad he'd at least... Draven turned and to his horror the woman who'd been attending to him had been tossed into a sharp bit of broken door frame. Which now impaled her chest causing Draven's stomach to lurch as he berated himself for being so careless. Her eyes distant and her expression shocked. Still Draven knew he'd no time to mourn...
Draven forced himself awake out of his dream by that point. His heart pounding and his fists were clenched. It was this which inspired Draven's late-night training. Draven by this point was aware whatever he was experiencing had been echoes. The cavern he collected his crystal had chosen this time loop as Draven's trial. Still after re-living these events in a repetitive loop for so long, and it being so vivid. Draven didn't come out of the experience without it changing him. Place this in addition to Draven's capture by a Sith Lord who subjected Draven to an array of torture and made him bear witness to the man's cruelty towards many a folk. Draven was hanging on mentally by a thin tether.
Draven finally began to return to the temple. He was currently amidst the world of Commenor. A place he was returning to often. He wore only the wrappings covering his recently acquired wounds until such time as he could find a medical droid, or someone capable of patching him up. As well as a pair of tattered tan pants. As a result of him striking the slabs which he had worked against. He was guessing as late as it was at night. Not many would be awake and so he did his best to be evasive and work his way towards his room where he was borrowing for his stay. He'd need to find some way to kill the remainder of the night. Too worn out and sore at this point to continue his training, though wanting to resist the temptation to fall back asleep. He was thinking about how to solve this predicament, when he spun the corner, and unexpectedly found himself quickly tripping in an effort to avoid colliding with an individual whom he was about to walk into.
It was another late evening for the young man. His hair damp as if though it rained from his sweat, his knuckles, elbows, and knees were all a bloodied mess, and his breathing labored. Before him laid a pile of rubble. Chunks of which indicating where his wounds had come from. As Draven found as the nights passed his aggression worsened in his unarmed training regiments he used to try and find clarity of mind. This night was one of the worse, as he grabbed some wrappings and did his best to patch himself up. He'd need to probably transition to weapon training in the future. As the wrappings were messy as it was clear patching people up was not his strong suit. That or something new to do.
Draven was actively trying to avoid returning to Kashyyyk as Draven had heard about the death and destruction on his order's home world. The young man knew that if he went there, he'd reach a shatter point. As he was treading a very fine line between flirting with the dark side in an effort to start righting the many wrongs this galaxy was facing. It was also for similar reasons. Draven had left his supplies secured in the ship he was lending for transport purposes. He didn't trust himself with his more dangerous possessions at this moment. As he'd been stirred out of sleep with another one of his vivid nightmares. This one had been pertaining to his time in a time loop.
Draven's life had been on repeat long enough that many events had unfolded in the galaxy around him. While he himself was trapped in stasis keeping him alive and sustained at the age of sixteen. While he relived the same day over, and over within his consciousness. The day in question pertained to the start of the end for an ancient civilization in the outer reaches. The planet was where he'd finally acquired a unique crystal which would be implemented in crafting a lightsaber. (Ooc: Giving the creation thread for this weapon is incomplete. I'm intentionally avoiding further description, and usage of this lightsaber. Until I have all the details. Considering the pace in which the thread is moving along. If it maintains that pace. I should have the entry before the end of this upcoming week.
)During the dream he relived the first few moments of the time loop. Draven would wake up amidst a layer of flames. His body charred and open wounds present as he needed to act quickly. Using the force Draven would douse the fire. From there the dazed and injured teenager looked about. His head ponding as his attention caught onto a body near him ruble on top of their corpse. The unrecognizable individual had possessed a staff within their hands. Draven was pretty certain he'd been struck by staff. Prior to whatever had set the place ablaze. He got up unsteadily and wobbled trying to get his bearings. Before painfully making his way out of the building. Leaning on the force to provide what strength he could muster to push forward. Once out of the building Draven found himself stumbling into the streets of a village. Buildings were ablaze, and bodies lined the streets. A mixture of wounded, dead, and mourning folks. Draven was hit unprepared by the wave of overwhelming emotions.
Draven forced himself through the street seeking out one of the healers who were attending to the wounded. One of them caught a glance of him and rushed over knocking him into a seated position and cursing him out in a language Draven couldn't recognize. The woman was fairly elderly, had an almost bronze colored skin and silvery hair with electric blue eyes. She was tall and well structured. Starting to attend to his open wounds and burns. Draven's head pounding as he closed his eyes and tried to force the emotions out. Wishing he was force dead... or better yet dead. As the agony, rage, sorrow, and fear was proving hard to contest against. Draven's senses suddenly dialed up to an 11 as he reached out with the force and tossed the healer aside. Creating a force barrier just in time to deflect a blade aimed initially to strike the woman down. The would-be attacker was twice as tall as the woman, placing him nearly thirteen feet tall. The blade was equally impressive in size and Draven was exerting a lot of his remaining energy is stalemating the blade from striking him or being pulled away.
To his appreciation a moment a pair of the healers tackled the attacker and began to dispatch the man. Despite Draven noticing the skin color of the man was similar to the others. Unlike most of the people whose eyes were glowing and brightly colored. This man's eyes were a dark purple and felt like peering into a void. His veins had begun to blacken, and Draven's adrenaline was coursing through him. Draven was glad he'd at least... Draven turned and to his horror the woman who'd been attending to him had been tossed into a sharp bit of broken door frame. Which now impaled her chest causing Draven's stomach to lurch as he berated himself for being so careless. Her eyes distant and her expression shocked. Still Draven knew he'd no time to mourn...
Draven forced himself awake out of his dream by that point. His heart pounding and his fists were clenched. It was this which inspired Draven's late-night training. Draven by this point was aware whatever he was experiencing had been echoes. The cavern he collected his crystal had chosen this time loop as Draven's trial. Still after re-living these events in a repetitive loop for so long, and it being so vivid. Draven didn't come out of the experience without it changing him. Place this in addition to Draven's capture by a Sith Lord who subjected Draven to an array of torture and made him bear witness to the man's cruelty towards many a folk. Draven was hanging on mentally by a thin tether.
Draven finally began to return to the temple. He was currently amidst the world of Commenor. A place he was returning to often. He wore only the wrappings covering his recently acquired wounds until such time as he could find a medical droid, or someone capable of patching him up. As well as a pair of tattered tan pants. As a result of him striking the slabs which he had worked against. He was guessing as late as it was at night. Not many would be awake and so he did his best to be evasive and work his way towards his room where he was borrowing for his stay. He'd need to find some way to kill the remainder of the night. Too worn out and sore at this point to continue his training, though wanting to resist the temptation to fall back asleep. He was thinking about how to solve this predicament, when he spun the corner, and unexpectedly found himself quickly tripping in an effort to avoid colliding with an individual whom he was about to walk into.
