Finding the Force.

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic rose from his bed after a long night having tailed a deadly Bounty Hunter who was intent on killing an Ithorian who hadn't paid their protection fees. Yuroic started to feel like he was making a change to Nar Shaddaa, maybe it was a coincident but he was told as a Jedi youngling that there were no such things as coincidents and that the Force guides our paths. Yuroic started to feel that the refugees he was defending started to believe in themselves once more.

He grabbed his breathing mask and assassin gear, although he wasn't hunting a target today, he felt safer in the gear than out of it. He wanted to practice his Force Powers, he knew that he could tap into them when in dire need or adrenaline coursing through his veins but he wanted to use them when he chose to. He dressed himself before grabbing his belt that contained several types of grenades, his vibrosword that was his deadly blade, his training saber that he had kept because it often scared the more cowardly foes and a dagger which was his assassin tool. He decided to leave his blaster pistol where it was as he opened the shaft to the outside.

He crawled through the ventilation shaft as he thought on where he could practice, he knew that the rooftops were often spacious and free from leering eyes. Yuroic kicked the vents open and stepped onto the solid ground. He looked around, he couldn't see anyone watching him as he begun his climb up the wall to the rooftop where he had started to build a practice arena for himself. He knew he had to train his Force powers and blade skills if he were to survive on this hostile planet.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

It Called to him again. After the fracture that had torn so many away and the resultant flux of the Force, he had started to wonder if he’d be drawn again. It was said that giving one’s self to the Force, trusting it, was a Jedi practice, but he’d as of yet met a Jedi to ask. He knew the Sith principal was to believe one’s self the Master, but even when he was just an Apprentice, he never saw much ‘control’ at all. Oh, he might have the ability to draw upon its power, but never for a moment did he believe himself in control.

That hadn’t changed. He didn’t think he would ever touch foot upon this wretched planet again. Yet here he was, walking the stinking streets. He ignored the filth about him, the panderers, the whores, the criminals and destitute. They all blended together with the broken, dilapidated, reeking mess. It was a disgusting mosaic that hadn’t brought even an ounce of pity from the ruby eyed archivist. All it did was irritate and annoy, he wanted to find what he was led here for and, hopefully, never return to this force be damned slum.

To say that he was out of place would have been an understatement. His clothing, while simple, was quality unseen in the parts he was now walking. The way he moved discouraged quite a few of the cut throats and thieves, it was the stride of a predator above their lowly status. The whores however looked at him hungry, in him they saw a glimmer of a way out, but not a one caught his interest. The reeking moisture that clouded the air swirled around him like filthy fog, billowing in his wake, brushed aside by his cloak.

His eyes scanned around him, even up, looking for the One he was called to. He felt like he was being drawn by some thread in the center of his chest, he didn’t know where, just the direction. Hopefully soon he would get this over with…


[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic reached for ledges and stuck his hand in handholds as he pulled himself up the wall as he ensured his feet are placed firmly. He hadn't been to his rooftop training grounds in over a week as he thought back to the first time he arrived on Nar Shaddaa. He had just recently left the Jedi Academy on Dantoonine, his thoughts were clouded, his beliefs were skewed as he wandered the crowded streets of the refugee sector. He was just walking when a refugee citizen grabbed him from the street and pulled into the dark alleyways, protecting him from a rampaging Exchange patrol, seeking blood and carnage. Seeing the danger and terror that was rife in Nar Shaddaa Yuroic knew he had to protect its people, its innocent citizens, no matter what background they came from.

He arrived on the rooftop, he smiled somewhat as he stroke the helm of his coat as he moved to the chair nearby, there was a table with a single cup rested on top. The rest of the rooftop was littered with dummies, a level ground smoothed so he could practice the several stances he learnt as a Jedi. He closed his eyes as he raised his hands, splayed out and aiming at the cup as he focussed his mind targeting the cup attempting to lift the cup with nothing but the Force. He sighed as he felt the Force all around him, the Force wasn't that strong in his mind. He couldn't feel it as clear as he could at times of need.

The cup wobbled, lifting gently up off the table about an inch off the table as he emptied his mind. He needed to grasp the cup in his mind as he lifted it up, trying to lift it higher and higher as he breathed out slowly. He just casually opened his eyes and saw that his cup was only half a foot off the table.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Like some sign, he felt it, this weak little pulse of energy. Obviously this one was testing out what little power he could touch, which wasn’t the wisest thing to do. He sighed then moved, to anyone watching he would have seemed to simply disappear, but actually he simply made himself move faster than most eyes could follow. His quarry was up higher than the street, though he disliked rising on the buildings simply because they looked ready to fall over at the slightest provocation. It was proof enough that races would crawl together like roaches even in the worst environments and that, humans in particular, seemed to thrive better than most.

Once he was in sight he stopped, keeping out of sight for a moment to choose his best path quietly. He wanted to test this one, see just what sort he was, he had the flavor of one yet tainted by death within that erratic aura. Focused as he was, he suspected this one felt more secure here, though to give him credit the location was difficult to get to without Other means. He had perfected moving quietly simply to both survive under his father and later within the Sith. While he was no assassin, such talent was one coveted by dealers of death and someone like himself.

He stole up close, using his intense focus to get within a couple feet of the younger man. He wasn’t one who ever saw much need to raise his voice, but even the normal tone would surely prompt a reaction. “It must be a lack of commonsense that has you touching power you barely understand without the intelligence to seek out someone who can keep you from doing yourself harm. Besides...you are doing it wrong.”

He wasn’t in the least bit concerned for himself, someone like this would not be nearly a threat to one of his skill.


[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

He continued to focus on the task as he felt the back of his neck tingle, there was something or someone approaching him with silent movements of a trained assassin or silent killer. He attempted to ignore the feeling as they continued to move closer, Yuroic was determined to practice his skills uninterrupted but then he heard a voice, a deep voice from behind him. He growled as the voice put his skills down and talked to him as a parent who had caught their child doing something wrong.

I haven't been harmed doing this up till now and this was how the Jedi taught me how do telekinesis. What makes you think that you can do it better than them? And I left the Jedi Order to avoid being talked down to, I know what I'm doing.

Yuroic turned around and stood to his full height as he grabbed his practice saber and ignited it, holding the saber up to the man's throat the blade was harmless but it didn't look any less like a real lightsaber. His technical skills were not enough to make his own lightsaber from the scrap metal that he could find on Nar Shaddaa, but he could feel himself that he was close to figuring out how to do it. He kept the blade at the man's throat and growled.

Now tell me, who are you and what is it you want from me? And don't lie to me, because I will cut your throat wide open in a heartbeat.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Lit ruby eyes stared at the man dispassionately, obviously this one mistook him for some easily frightened thug. He grasped the blade, the electricity simply being extinguished without any effort. “Your threat is a hollow one and your stupidity is mounting, the Force is not to be trifled with.”

The younger man would find himself lifted in the air, helpless, as the well dressed stranger walked around him assessing him. “Arrogant you are, thinking you know better when you hardly grasp anything at all. No wonder you failed as a Jedi, such pigheadedness is more a trait of the Sith, lucky for you I found you instead.” He looked up at the one in his grasp, contempt curling his lips “You’ve not earned the right to know my name, but I promise you...you’ll be instructed properly.”

He then let him drop turning his back on him, an insult for he was basically showing he deemed him to weak to worry about. “You will lead me to whatever hovel you call your own, you will pack your belongings and then we are leaving this stinking cesspool. Argue and you’ll forfeit what meager possessions you own, for I am leaving and you will be coming with me. Those are your two choices, decide.”

It wasn’t clear if what fate was to befall him for anyone might immediately assume he was treating him like he now owned him, like a pet or slave. That wasn’t far from the mark really. He was unimpressed with the one behind him and until he displayed something of value he would be dragged along by his whim. He would do whatever he had to, cultivating the gift he was blundering about with, simply so that rogue gift would be under control. There was nothing more dangerous than a know-it-all fledgling who thought he had control.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken command over the fate of one who was too slow to shut up and listen. His first apprentice [member="Abel Denko"] was similar, but not nearly as dimwitted and arrogant. He missed him and that only made him more irritated that this one wasn’t doing as told. Perhaps if the man had been here this would have been easier, but unfortunately he’d lost him and it was still bitter.


[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Being flung into the air by the Force User like he was some ragdoll to be used at the guy's whim. He was then dropped and he landed on his front grunting as he pushed himself up onto his knees then flared his nostrils, he didn't like this guy's attitude towards him and he was going to him what he could do when he was pushed. He rose to his feet then pushed his arms forward, feeling the Force around him and he could feel his connection was now stronger as he was determined not to be treated as he was. He pushed the Force at the man with his back behind him.

I am not leaving here. This moon isn't full of weak people, the people here are strong but due to gangs and bullies like you they have given up hope. I'm giving them back that hope with what I'm doing here. If I leave now then they have no one to protect them!

He unsheathed his vibrosword, it might not look as impressive as the practice saber but it was a damn sight more deadlier. Yuroic's green eyes glowed bright and started to turn red as he felt his anger rising, he wasn't going be pushed around by a mere stranger who decided to treat him like a slave. He wasn't a slave and he wasn't going to be pushed into leaving Nar Shaddaa by someone he didn't know.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Invisible hands closed around his throat, not enough to cut off all his air, but enough that it would feel like his neck was being held tight. He was then forced to his knees, Serian’s eyes glowed red from under his hood. “Baring a blade to one who out matches you significantly is incredibly dumb. How can you contemplate even the thought of saving others when you can’t even save yourself? You have no power, no authority and no sense, its pathetic.” He stalked over to him, the blade going flying “Lesson number one… Unless you have the skills to back up your convictions, stay out of people’s lives and don’t interfere. Lesson number two…” The grip tightened “Do as I tell you and keep your fool tongue locked behind your teeth.”

He closed off his air completely, he had made his choice and it was easier to deal with an unconscious body than it was to deal with an awake one. He stood there, watching, waiting for the man to black out so he would have peace and quiet. He pulled a device from his pocket and turned it on, clicking a button. “It is done, ready the restraints in one of the rooms. This one is going to be an annoyance.”

Yes Master Loria.

He pushed a different one to summon the vehicle and driver, then as soon as he got to the ship he’d be well away. It wasn’t all that long before they broke free of the moon and were well committed to heading home. His newest apprentice was tied up, the bonds locked. He knew how to mew a fledgling and until he was certain the younger man would heed his orders, he would stay bound. This one had issues with pride and thinking he knew best for others, both that he would have to deal with before he taught him.

He’d never trained someone who had been taught a Jedi, not that the training was all that different, but it was the mentality that was. This one seemed to have left his ilk because he couldn’t submit and do as told. Well, that wasn’t going to be hard to change, the archivist had plenty of experience bringing people to heel. He would have to disabuse him of this silly notion that one man could change the fate of others. His actions had been prolonging the misery of those around him, but he was misguided enough to think he was doing ‘good’.



[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic choked on nothinh as he watched the man, he knew this man was clearly associated with the Darker side of the Force than he had experienced before and that he was going to struggle with him. The man clearly wanted to teach Yuroic the Force but Yuroic hated the way he went about himself, thinking he was better than everyone, it was the arrogance of it that karking annoyed Yuroic, he knew there were stronger, faster and better Force Users than himself, he wasn't blind to it but he refused to be talked down to. He was a smart child when he was with the Order and he knew the way life worked for the poorest kind of people but he didn't flaunt his knowledge or hold himself better for he was still human, still weak.

He wandered if this man thought the same as he blacked out. His dreams were fraught with nightmarish memories of the times his powers had failed him, when they had proven his weakness or when his skills with a blade were not enough against an enemy. He knew he needed a teacher, he needed to become stronger, better and improve his currently unstable connection to the Force. Yuroic had spent his near entire life wanting, needing to help others because he found the smallest thanks or smile immensely gratifying and he knew nothing could change that. Nothing.

He eventually stirred from his nightmares and thoughts as he felt the tight bonds on his wrists. He growled as he struggled firmly against the bonds. He refused to be tied down like a bad dog, he was a human being, he continued to wriggle free from his bonds to no avail. He collapsed against the bed and begun to shout and howl.

"I am a free man! I refuse to submit like this! I need to go back! Nar Shaddaa is my home, it's innocent people are unsafe. I might not save them all but if. IF. I can give a glimmer of hope to them, don't you think they deserve that?!" He growled to himself and sighed, they were long from the moon now, his heart ached as he felt more lost than ever.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

He stood outside the door and listened to him rage, but he didn’t enter quite yet. He’d felt his consciousness stir, but he’d hesitated outside the door. It wasn’t that the words mattered, it was that the man was going to face some harsh lessons and he wondered idly if he shouldn’t just kill him. For one such as this newest student, the act of not acting would be the hardest thing to do and, in its own way, breed misery. Would it not be kinder to spare him that heartache? Then his resolve hardened, if this one was to rise higher he would have to learn, if he didn’t then he’d die like a cur in some gutter.

Serian and this man were about the same height, even looked to be of similar age for the former Lord didn’t look nearly thirty. He was dressed in black suit pants, matching vest, a white long sleeved linen shirt and black shoes. He didn’t have the suit top, nor his cloak, no tie boud his neck either. His ink black hair was brushed to frame his face, Yuroic would see him clearly now, along with his eyes. He had the angular features that spoke of the noble bloodline he was born from, the clipped aristocratic tone of voice, even the superior manner.

A former Imperial of the old world, much of what he was simply, was. The arrogance of nobility came easily to him, even if inwardly he didn’t see himself as such. He walked to the edge of the bed and crossed his arms watching him a moment, choosing his words. “You didn’t spare them anything, not really. Your actions let them live in squalor another day, it didn’t elevate them, didn’t show them how to make themselves better. All you did was prolong their misery and, did them no kindness. If it is their fate to live thus, then nothing you do will ever impact it.” He sighed “I know my actions seem high handed, but for better or for worse you are mine to teach, shelter and protect. Your obligation is to learn and to follow, even if that means standing by as men, women, children, old, are slaughtered before you.”

That reality was entirely possible, but he wondered if this young fool realized that. “There is a time and place to stand against what seems like a cruel fate. A hard lesson, true, but you must trust that I know what I am doing and to stand and let it pass. Otherwise I promise you, I won’t show you even remotely as much kindness as I did today. I don’t coddle my students, if it means I must brand into your skin the discipline required to stay at my side, I will. I am no Jedi and, I am no Sith either, but neither am I a saint. In time you will realize I am not a complete heartless bastard.”

He let his hands drop “I will free you, but you must kneel before me and at least swear unwavering obedience to me till you have completed your training. No matter what… Otherwise I will kill you, even if it wastes your potential.”

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic glared as the man entered, his green eyes an unnatural red that seemed to attempt to burn their way through the man. He turned away, looking at the wall as he spoke of how Yuroic had achieved nothing how his skills with a dagger, slicing the throats and killing many of the gang members that hassled the streets of Nar Shaddaa was futile and that he was just prolonging it. A voice from deep within his mind spoke to him. A whisper that grew as he continued to think of it.

He was right.

Yuroic had spent nearly two to three years on fighting and conquering this evil on Nar Shaddaa but for every member he killed from the gangs another would take his place and often the replacement was worse than the person before. It was becoming a futile fight, add to the mix the dangers he got into as he fought Bounty Hunters and Sith on the planet and the lost of innocent lives because of his fighting he realised that his struggle was just that. A struggle.

He nodded his head and felt the bounds loosen, he rubbed his wrists slowly as he looked up at the man, he could tell that this man did not lie to one side of the Force, though it was obvious that his power was more in the Darker side than Yuroic's. His attire was of nobility while Yuroic's was a poorer man, his was simple and had been from day one, he had been born on Kashyyyk and his parents murdered for freeing a soon to be Wookiee slave. He always been told this and he had always wanted to be as noble and as brave as them but they were dead because of it and he needed this training he could feel the Force guiding him down this path.

He stood in front of the man, he stared at him with his bright grass coloured eyes before dropping to a knee silently his gaze turning down and his head lowered he bit his bottom lip as he thought on what to say, he had never taken a master like this before, he left the Jedi Order before they could assign him one. He coughed to open his vocal chords and swallowed hard before he spoke.

"I realise now thst you might be right. I might not have saved those lives, I might not stopped their suffering only put a bandage on a much larger wound. But know this, I will continue to save lives, lives you might deem unworthy but you have no right to pick and choose who lives or dies. If they were meant to die they will still end up dying but I have a duty to try and save those who aren't meant to die."

He sighed, he knew that the man would not have liked thst but no matter how much discipline he was given the desire, the need, to save those who need saving would never fade from his soul. At least he couldn't see it being washed away, that being said, he wasn't going to save every Tom, Dick or Harry. He knew that if they got into the sticky situation then he would watch and only watch and he wouldn't step in unless he though they couldn't handle it. It would take time but he knew he could do that much.

"However, I realise that I have potential, untrained but I know that my skills with a blade was better than most of my peers when I was training and my Force Powers were significantly weaker." He sighed as he continued to look down hard at the ground. "Will you be my Mentor?"

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

This one didn’t realize how incredibly tolerant he was being and how amazing it was that he hadn’t simply struck him for his failure to do as he had told him. “You do not have the right to choose who is worthy of saving. You claim I don’t have the right to choose who lives and dies, but neither do you. Your interference only brought worse misery to those around you. You made them suffer, you were the cause of innocent people dying. You, in your arrogance thought you could be their ‘savior’. It makes you no better than a common thug yourself. A worthless killer deluding himself that he had the power to draw lines for people. Who are you to raise a weapon against people doing what they could to survive? Those thugs you killed, they were once like those you tried to save, only they chose to prey on others. Much the same as you did...”

He wasn’t pulling his punches now. “You forgot to see the bigger picture. There will always be those who are at the bottom, every empire, every system of government has those like on Nar Shadda. All of them. Past, present and future. Do you think you are the only one who thinks he can do as you did? There are already things available for people to take advantage of to change their lives, but most will never choose to seek it out. What you should have done was educate them of these things, then leave them to decide. What you did, was rob innocent people of their lives and allowed an evil they don’t know to take the place of the last you removed. All you did was get rid of their competition and sow more pain, suffering and misery.”

He snorted “In my opinion, your actions were worse than anything. Good intentions are the worst form of evil because its fools like you who act on them without guidance. Your hands are tainted now, at least I can honestly say that those I have killed fought me on equal terms. I have never killed innocent people, but you have. Congratulations, still think you deserve a medal?”

He wasn’t done however. “I told you I wanted you to pledge obedience not bore me to tears. Not only did you fail to do what I told you I wanted, you vomited more stupidity and made an assumption about my character. Moreover you’ve failed to realize that by taking you, I’d already claimed you as my apprentice, making your askance of that role pointless. I am your master, not your mentor. This is your last chance, understand that the next time you don’t do what I tell you, you will regret it. I will repeat myself only this once, swear your obedience. Someone has to take you in hand before you do more harm to some other innocent planet.”

Often times the worst punishment one can give another is stripping their actions as he did and showing him every flaw. Showing the true color of his actions and stripping away the lies one told one’s self. He knew he wasn’t above justice himself, he’d in his own way had made mistakes that negatively impacted lives, but at least he knew enough to minimize the damage.


[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic growled as he forced himself listen to the man, he might not believe he was right and he might have to grit his teeth in order to stay his tongue. If he didn't need the training he would have attempted to end this man for the lies he spouted at Yuroic, he didn't harm innocent lives, he lives he took were criminals, criminals who were given a chance to redeem themselves but instead chose to continue their lives of crime and blantent abuse of power. Yuroic remained on his knee, he hated using the word Master, he refused to use it as a Jedi youngling and he always remained intolerant of the word, it was a word for the weak, for the submissive and for slaves. Hd considered himself none of those three.

He growled more vocally this time before he grunted, "I swear my obedience... Master..." His nostrils flared as he scowled looking at the ground, he felt like he had found rotten food or or found something disgusting where it shouldn't be. Yuroic bit his bottom lip hard as he did not say another word. He could feel that this man was a man true to his word and he should not tempt fate with one so skilled.

Yuroic thought on what he was signing up for now, this man had him under his thumb, Yuroic could not act unless he was told to act or the man acted first. Everything he was signing up for to gain experience and training seemed to go against everything he had ever believed in. He didn't know what disturbed him more, the man's perception of morals and actions or Yuroic's unnatural submissive natural to this man just for training. He held back a sigh as he realised that maybe he wasn't the man he once saw himself as.

[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Raien Keth]

Darth Surtr was meditating silently and privately aboard ship, laying out the plans for another meditation chamber within his mind. Having recovered [member="Fyor Nayus"]’s force crystal, his potential for planning and execution were being rebuilt within the ancient Sith. One down, three to go, it still left a great void of potential within his being, iron was his force signature, grinding outward, but also a void. It was a strange invitation that his brother had offered, to have him aboard ship, but it left him a covert place to collect his thoughts. Sat in a quiet, sparse white chamber free of any other considerations, except one, a training pillar of various weapons.

Black battle robes worn, etched with rakattan fire runes blazing away, edge of truth was by his feet, it’s crimson beam ever ready to be called upon. His face was that of someone who had seen millions die, the natural conclusion when you took, helping through killing, to the place and path the young rogue Jedi was treading. Where did it stop? It didn't.

Much of what Serian was teaching to the young student Raien Keth embodied the complete opposite of, for decades he had walked that path, and the meeting of the energies aboard ship would interesting if nothing else. If nothing else the Betrayer would make for an example of what taking the other path would bring the young rogue Jedi. He would share such wisdom for his Brother’s efforts freely, because he was his brother, and one of the few ties to the past and its legacy that had endured.

Darth Surtr had not yet committed to being taught by Serian, he was not yet convinced that his brother, a former Sith Lord of considerable power, had not been tricked into giving that power away, or betrayed or worse. That was his real purpose here, to establish if Serian had been betrayed by something close to him, or his own mind.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Serian Loria"]

Spoiler

Consider me background for this thread as I know it’s important for you both, loose posting order for me.

 

[Serian Loria]

He could remember a time when he too raged at the idea of calling a stranger ‘master’. He could almost, almost, sympathize, however the ruby eyed archivist really didn’t care. “You just passed your first lesson. You may wander the ship, don’t be a nuisance. If you should encounter a white haired man, he is to be treated with as much respect as you are to treat me. I tell you this now, just as I will tell him. If he sees any behavior from you that he thinks is disrespectful to me, he is allowed to discipline you. Obviously I will set ground rules with him, but he will understand.” He paused a moment studying him on the ground “You are mine. Until such time as I raise you to be my equal, this singular fact remains the same. My apprentices are basically just about anything I request within reasonable means. If you find my methods not so, by all means, tell me why. Just don’t do it till after you do whatever it is I task you with doing.”

This one was going to be interesting and he would get a rather large bit of amusement pitting his will against this one’s pride. It was one of those emotions that were mostly useless. It was best used as a tool to get one what one desired, not as something dragging one to the dirt. “I’ve already made arrangements so that you will have a modest allowance, providing you don’t squander it. You will live under my roof, as such the only expense you’ll probably accrue is whatever you decide to spend your money on. I will provide basically all necessities, anything for pleasure however is on you. I am warning you now, bring any vices to my household and I will leave a lasting reminder of my wrath in your skin. Do not taint my home with filth. You will have your own room, free reign of the kitchen, free range of the grounds of my estate. I have three servants, don’t treat them with disrespect or you will regret it. I have a paramour, as well as a daughter, I think you get where my desires in their regard are. As long as you follow this and clean up after yourself, so far I see no issues.”

One might say there could be many, but it was a matter of perspective. It was just one more of those things that were set in place to further hammer in the very first lesson. He could almost taste the emotion seething under the man’s skin, the anger and resentment. He would keep pushing him over time, get him so wound up he eventually set it loose. Mostly just to see what he would try to do. He walked out then leaving [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] alone.

He went in search of his brother, [member="Raien Keth"], to see if he had been paying attention to this recent exchange. He leaned against a wall within hearing distance, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. “If something he does upsets you, you may discipline him. If he does something you feel disrespects me, by all means correct it. You may not maim him. You may not break bones. You may not leave any lasting damage that will hinder him. Make whatever you do leave a very strong impression, but something that will fade from sight. I would also like you to push him, antagonize him, feed that emotion I feel under his surface. This one has a lot of pride, thinks himself some...savior of the weak, innocent and, blah blah blah. He left the Jedi because he didn’t like their rules, didn’t like being a mere apprentice. Arrogance. I can honestly say its going to be fun disabusing him of all that.”

((Merely for a mention to bring this to attention [member="Crystal"] and [member="Serena Constatine"] ))

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic's whole personality seemed to change with the words leaving his lips, his shoulders sagged slightly with the arrogance and pride washing away from him. He had built them as a defensive mechanism to avoid being vulnerable to being bullied and taken advantage of, though it would seem that it was entirely possible that he had already been taking advantage of, in the eyes of his new Master. He remained on his knee with his bowed in respect to his Master, he gave no look of arrogance or defiance. He needed this man, he realised that now and for that reason he saw great respect in someone would take on him as he was.

He listened to the man and nodded his head, he had not heard anything that he did not object to, he only raised his voice after his Master had finished speaking and took a deep breath to collect his thoughts before he talked. I am deeply grateful for your generosity and kindness to me Master, I also promise to never take advantage of the kindness you have provided me and I would never attempt to take advantage of your family, your servants or your friends. He bit his bottom lip before he rose and watched his Master leave the room and saw another new face, he thought on the fact he didn't think of himself squandering money as he still had a fair some of money, he nearly lost that money to free a slave but luckily transactions of money did not occur as a fight quickly broke out on the desert planet. He shook his head and listened to the conversation his Master was having with the newcomer.

He bit his tongue as he was somewhat anxious to correct his Master on the tail end of the conversation, he didn't leave the Jedi because he didn't like being an apprentice. His instability with the Force made him anxious to learn how to control it and how to not be so reluctant to use it. His reason for leaving the Jedi Order was his disagreement with the way they saw the Sith, he did not see them as the villains that the Jedi did, he believed that Sith could do go and even show the Jedi a thing or two about the Force. He believe in that there should be more done to bring peace to both sides without trying to annihilate one another, the Force was something that both Light and Dark, one side would never rule more than the other. His views on such matter troubled the Jedi and they attempted to force feed him that Sith were bad and they were murderers, and Yuroic's attempt to proof of Jedi committing such crimes were passed off. His arrogance did play a part of it, he hated being talked down to by them when they hadn't earned that respect but he believe that his beliefs shouldn't be ignored, especially ones on genocide.

However Yuroic managed to remain silent before he walked up to the newcomer and kept his head down in respect as he spoke in a clear and calculated tone, he wished not to disrespect and also not to receive harm on himself, he was one for pain. Hello sir, I'm Yuroic Xeraic, it is my pleasure to meet you. He looked up to place his hand out to shake the man's hand as he gave a semi smile in friendliness.

[member="Serian Loria"] | [member="Raien Keth"]

 

[Raien Keth]

Raien simply adjusted his body language to more openly indicate acceptance of the terms to Serian. The student would be flawed if he was hamstrung to avoid injury, because the training would never be a reality or pushed to the lethal edge, it would be a simulation. This change in Serian gave him cause for concern, but he was a guest and Serian was his brother, so he accepted it and would be forced to adapt his methods. Clever thought the Betrayer, his calculating mind could see the gameplan ahead of time, to try to put him in touch with how he used to train, ~clever Serian~ his mind echoed, but Darth Surtr had seen the cunning gambit. He readied two training sabers to hand, adjusting their intensity.

Purposeful steps carved small dents in the floor of the ship, something that was unavoidable given his metal braced leg supports. The Betrayer’s weighty attentions weighed and measured all who stood before him of their worth naturally. If his Brother had seen something in Yurioic that was of note because Serian didn't take students lightly, it was worth a look, and it was a look that had his crushed silver eyes regarding Yuroic for a minute with no word. Aura, stance, form, weapons, how he carried and moved, all of these things were read through an Echani’s mind, communicating to him who he was. If you wanted pure martial experience to educate someone, there were few people he would put as his equal. Yes to the casual observer that was blind pride, but not without reason.

White walls, a modest size room with enough room to move but not retreat, it focused the training and cleared the mind. All that was here was a simple pillar with blades on it, Raien Keth and now “Yuroric Xeric. Prepare yourself.” Placing a green training saber over in the outstretched hand, it was set high enough to inflict shocks as reminders, but not permanent damage as per Serian’s request. Darth Surtr didn’t need pleasantries, or titles, even respect, that would come through the training, or not, all that mattered was the result, that’s all that ever mattered.

“Attack me. Do not hold back, everything you have.” Darth Surtr’s raspy rebuilt voice stated, and he stood silently awaiting whatever came next, poised on a knife edge, his focus on the combat circle around them deepening. He had fought and survived hundreds of opponents, and that experience would be imparted somewhat to the student today.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Serian Loria"]

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic saw that the man produced training sabers and handed him a green one. Yuroic held the blade in his hand, it was fairly similar to his own one though his might have been longer, he couldn't say one way or another for definite as his blade was left behind on Nar Shaddaa. In fact most of Yuroic's equipment had been left behind but his Master had warned him that would happen if he resisted the man.

Yuroic lifted the blade up and then move his left leg forward, he felt slightly uncomfortable using one blade as he preferred to use his two hands but he did not complain. Instead he calmed his mimd, preparing himself for battle. Last time he had a serious one on one battle he had inadvertently used Dun Möch against a Sith Acolyte. It wasn't well enough for him to defeat his opponent but he had thought that the distraction he used helped save his life. The bounty hunters using their ship to blow Yuroic up had ended the fight but he was still fighting strong against the Sith Acolyte.

He narrowed his eyes, he knew this man was going to be tough to beat, likely impossible but Yuroic always viewed it that the mind makes things impossible before the body does. He gripped the training saber in two hands then pounced on the man, striking for the head. While the opponent went to blow that Yuroic took a chance at stamping at his kneecap to throw him off balance. Yuroic didn't fight openly, one on one often being an assassin but when he did he knew how to, he was looking to be a Jedi Guardian when he was at the academy due to his skills with a blade. It was a natural talent he had.

[member="Raien Keth"] | [member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Raien Keth]

The stance was clever for Yuroic to attack, it was a trait he shared in his fighting style, the strike simple however, the pouncing telegraphed as it landed. He would teach him the basics to see what he knew, the basics from where every fighter of worth started. Shii-Cho. Raien moved his blade in a simple horizontal cross cut counter, then moved the training saber diagonally down. A simple counter and not, as the beam had just covered the entirety of his body, 4 out of the six potential zones of attack. His head, both sides, and one of his legs, the one Yuoric was aiming his kick for. When it came to rest, it was there to potentially give his student’s foot a potent sting.

“Six target zones,” Surtr began angling his body as he struck back, to deny Yuroic much room to counter, a critical feature of Shii-cho which made it quite a lethal and unexpected form when mastered. He started with a simple cross cut across the waist of his opponent at hip height, driving his stance from the front foot. “Learn them,” he demanded, raising his front foot up to push down, a two hand strike from head to foot following, the foot added weight to the body, by dropping that weight into the momentum of the strike.

Raien’s strikes were balanced, level, his form controlled, but there was strength and pressure there, speed enough to push the man off his feet if he didn’t have his stance correct. Each duel he had fought and survived burned on his robe, another wound and another reminder, they littered his form. This was instruction as Serian wanted, but he would push the weapon into his student when necessary to remind him of the event.

Spoiler

With permission to continue on with Serian spectating

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Serian Loria"]


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