Home Sweet Home (Mass Training - All Sith Welcome)

[The Traveler]

[member="Darth Atrace"] [member="Darth Urak"] [member="Vega the Chaos Mage"]

Fifty years it had been since the entity known as the Traveler had set foot in this sacred place, though long gone was his sith identity he still held a deep reverence for the progenitors of his past. He stood there watching the young ones train, their masters showing off their prized pupils and the young ones trying to learn the tricks that would see them achieve prestige and power.

The Traveler had come for a far more benign purpose then to hurt and to brag, he had come to check up on his apprentices. He had taken many and only three of them showed enough promise for him to consider more then pawns. If the rest of his apprentices were the pawns, they were the knights and bishops who would push his tactics to victory.

" The young are ambitious in this age, they reveal to much to their competition. "

 

[Komo]

Their little group here seemed to have swelled into something much, much larger now. Greta was fine with that, as it showed that the Sith Acolytes were keen and had an interest in learning. Being a fond lover of learning and knowledge herself, she was delighted to know hear whenever she finds with that trait, be it an acolyte or otherwise. She recognised the familiar form of [member="Darth Azurea"], as the knight herself had seen her fellow Sith raise through the ranks of the One Sith from acolyte to lord. Azurea had contributed plenty to the Sith empire and thus her ascension had been worthy and deserving. She could only hope to match her dedication in service of the Sith empire one day.

Despite the numerous folds of her black red robes, Greta sensed an unfamiliarity within those robes but would not pursue that thought. It has been a while since she had seen the Sith Lord after all, and it was not her place to question the affairs of her superiors, even though they had once trained and fought together as knights. The force held the secrets of such connections, and her observant eyes had picked out the glances between [member="Knight Mullarus"] and the Sith Lord. A contented smile appeared on her visage as she came to a conclusion. But that was for another time. Now it was training time. And she would do the acolytes who had came here to learn a disservice if she did not begin the training.

Greta saw the appearance of [member="Darth Ophidia"] as her appearance came into being, having chose to reveal herself. Greta gave her a look of knowing, her blood red orbs meeting the Lord's burning red and orange ones, before she followed it up with a curt head bow. The Sith knight would then move on, getting on with the training. Waving over those those that had indicated interest or any others who would, she spoke, with a brief clap of her hand. She know not of how many she would be teaching today, but that did not matter, as if any of such that sought knowledge, you would gladly impart, being a fond seeker of knowledge herself.

"Those that are interested in honing their lightersaber skills, or even learning them would do best to follow me. We'll conduct our training in the Valley of the Dark Lords, among the deserted fields empty with the exception of ancient cemeteries and tombs of the long lost Sith Lords for company.

Isn't that wonderful?"

[member="Zayden Madera"] | [member="Froste"] | [member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Zayden Madera]

As the other acolytes made their choices on who to train with first, Zayden stood thinking. What should I train? Saber skills or Force powers? This is a difficult decision. It kind of makes me think my life may depend on the choices I make here, today. Hmm... I guess I'll just go with lightsaber training since I'm terrible at that.

Zayden had heard about the different forms of lightsaber combat. Two of them were available to him here at this moment. Form II and Form V. Both forms had their own strengths. Form II would be great to learn for elegant dueling and Form V would be great to learn for using an opponents attack against themselves. Maybe I'll learn enough about both forms to be able to apply them effectively in combat.

He looked in the direction of [member="Greta Kohler"] as she announced where the lightsaber training would take place. After it was said and done, Zayden stretched and, with a nervous yet curious feeling, began following her to the Valley of the Dark Lords. Valley of the Dark Lords... isn't that the place where many of the most legendary Sith Lords were buried? Well... that's both interesting and creepy.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Darth Azurea had no intention of reading Taris's mind, but she was quick to chastise him. "Your flattery is appreciative, but what would be more valuable to both of us if you focused on what is to be learned here today."

Before Darth Azurea began rounding up her students, she recognized the familiar face of Greta Kohler. With a subtle smile and a nod to her, she acknowledged the blonde-haired Sith Knight. Azurea quickly scanned the woman for some type of hint of malice or ill-will, but was satisifed there was nothing. She was worried about spies, since the baby inside her was Darth Pyrrhus's, and he did not know she had gone to Korriban to teach. "Students, come this way," Darth Azurea said, counting three that had specifically requested her mind and illusion training. "Every particle in this valley is overflowing with the darkside of the Force. I'm sure you can all feel it. Korriban is perfect for opening hungry minds up to the art of deception."

Azurea took the three Acolytes off from the rest and headed towards the back of the valley close to the Great Temple.

"You will pair off for this exercise. Darth Urak, please face Taris." Azurea glanced at the human named Konrad. "You will be paired with me."

With a gloved hand, she made the dust swirl a little around them with a gust of kinetic wind. "Illusions are first. I want you to try to conjure an illusion on your partner. You will do this without my guidance, but I will answer any questions you have before you begin."

"Ready?"


[member="Taris"] [member="Darth Urak"] [member="Greta Kohler"] [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

All of the trainers and trainees began to scatter. Before the Knight [member="Darth Atrace"] stopped following Mullarus and took off to teach an Acolyte of his own, only one Acolyte followed Mullarus' steps, which was good. Mullarus preferred to teach students one at a time.

The cloaked young man approached, to which Mullarus took a second to size him up. "Greetings. Your name, Acolyte?" he asked.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

If I don't get killed here, I'll be cooked...​

​

One of the few Sith Acolytes of the Sith Lord Vornskr, Jurs Deyi, was stood below a high arch of a rock, his large, soulless eyes fixated on the Sith Knight [member="Greta Kohler"]. He had decided early into the day that he would be wanting to focus on duelling primarily before he began to hone his affinity with the Force. Donned in a simple black cloak and a soaked through tunic, the Nautolan's primary concern was keeping his amphibian like skin protected from the cruel sand and wind of Korriban. Strangely enough, the Acolyte found the desolate landscape appealing enough, although it was by far the cruellest planet Deyi had ever visited.

From the meagre shadow that the outcrop had created, the vivid Sith Tattoos seemed to be glowing redder than ever, most likely a side effect of the Dark Side that constricted each and every living thing on this wasteland. From what the Nautolan's empty eyes could detect, nobody else was beginning to move over to the attractive Sith Knight; and so with a sigh he trundled over quickly, his hood raised above his head.

"M'Lady, I am Jurs Deyi - and you are?"

 

[Urak]

Urak got up, and turned to [member="Taris"], then walked over to him. He glanced at Taris, then began to concentrate. Urak was no stranger to illusions, he had been able to conjure up basic forms of it in battles in earlier invasions, yet he was nowhere near mastering them, which was his goal as today. He began to focus on the dark energy around him, to seep into the air, surrounding them. He began to form the basic illusion of after-imaging, while moving around a bit, it confused the target, and made it seem Urak was in one place, yet he was a few feet away in a different place.

"This is about the limit on illusions i can conjure up, i have used a similar one on a Jedi before, yet it seemed to have failed that time. I mainly learned from trial and error on illusions, which is not typically the best way in the middle of a battle..but it was the only way i had up until this point." Urak then halted the illusion, and stepped backwards, to give Taris a shot, as he had already showed his only illusion skill.

He had much to learn on this subject, yet that was why he was there, to learn. He had made it to Knight so fast, that it rushed him into battle before mastering the force before. Which made way too many close battles in his earlier fights in the invasions of the past. If it weren't for his brother, who knows if he would be here to train in these lessons.

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

He hated being asked his name, because he knew full well he didn't know it. He only knew the fake name that he was given by Lord Mythos after he awoke. He still wasn't sure why he had lack of memories, thus he accepted that he'd had an accident around a cliff face and very nearly died. It was a theory that made sense, he liked cliff climbing.

"My name is Colt, Colt..." he spoke, the words still forming daggers as he spoke. It was something that came natural to him, came easy. The dark words, fueled by anger and annoyance, the same anger that fueled his power in the darkside of the force. He knew full well he needed to make up a last name, one name wasn't enough.

"Colt Young"

[member="Knight Mullarus"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Greta Kohler"]

Kyre couldn't think of a more suitable place to further develop her skills with a lightsaber- under the watchful gaze of her spiritual ancestors. She could see the Force as clear as day here, shifting and swirling beneath the ebb and tide of the universe as if it was nothing more than sand blowing across the dunes of tattooine. Yes. They were watching. She could not see them clearly but... They were there. She would prove herself before them. Before him.

Magnus.

The name trickled down her spine like a bead of sweat, and unlike her other thoughts she simply couldn't shake this. He was here. She knew. Spirits of such... Malevolence very rarely allowed themselves to be forgotten - at least not with good reason. Still, she was not here to put herself under the spell of the past. She was here for the present. The now. Makashi.

She stepped to one side, showing the Sith Knight that was overseeing the combat that she was both acutely paying attention to her, and most certainly eager to begin.

 

[Crentice]

Crentice knew once the knight mentioned the desert, there would be more troubles to this than he had expected. Crentice knew this trainer before him had possessed more skill, and experience than he ever had in the force. Crentice was no stranger to torture either. He knew what would be expected of him. He also knew if he messed up, there would be consequences.

The young acolyte was ready to be trained in the dark side. And he knew once he learned this ability, he would have to master it, as this would be for anything anyone taught him. There was no room for error, but as this was his first time with aspect of training, he anticipated there would be something that goes wrong.

Crentice stated, "Very well, I understand the risks of this training, and still wish to continue on with the training."

[member="Darth Atrace"]

 

[Atrace]

After some time walking through the desert Atrace found a suitable place to begin training, the heat, the dry air, the presence of dark spirits, this place was absolutely perfect, he thought to himself

"Begin meditation acolyte, think about the things you hate the most, things that make you angry, things you love, your passions. you must think of your most prominent feelings you must draw power from them."

Atrace would sit down in the sand removing his hood revealing his mangled face to the acolyte, he would now begin his meditation alongside the acolyte. If things were to go wrong it would be Atrace's job to put an end to the acolytes pain.

[member="Crentice"]

 

[Froste]

The Valley of the Dark Lords... That's where my training begins. A bit ceremonious, no doubt. Well, I suppose you could make anything on Korriban feel ceremonious nowadays.

Cole kept his arms at his side as he stepped closer to Knight Kohler. Once he was at an appropriate distance, he threw his left arm behind his back and began a bow. He kept his right arm in front of him, hanging slightly lowered and bent at a 90 degree angle. Everything must be perfect, including the bow. Sloppily allowing my right arm to simply hang down to the ground, gah. A site as hideous as that would definitely skew Knight Kohler's view of me. And being in bad favor, that is not something that I need at this moment. He kept himself in this bow for a few seconds, then pulled himself up to his normal posture, crossing his hands. He was about to speak but he got caught glancing in her eyes. He felt stuck. The moment or two that had passed since he saw her eyes felt like a millennia. The blood red color of the eye entranced Cole. Cole shook his head quickly. And, eventually, Cole found the courage to speak, "My name is Cole Tymon, my lord." Cole reached up to his mask after he introduced himself, and elegantly pulled it off. Taking the mask of was not an idea Cole was fond of, but he felt that it would show the Sith that Cole knew his place. "And this, is my face, my lord. I do apologize for wearing the mask, but..." Cole glanced around the terrain, and already the little specks had begun to enter his eyes. Cole couldn't stand these irritants, and he would never know how people coped and simply fought with miniscule objects in their eyes. "The specks of land seem to enjoy finding themselves in my eye. This mask stops that. It tries to, anyway." Cole kept the mask chest height. He desperately wanted to put it on, but he would wait for the Knight Kohler's thoughts on the matter. He wouldn't dare put the mask back on until he knew the Knight's opinion.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"][member="Zayden Madera"][member="Greta Kohler"]

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Knight Mullarus"] | [member="Fortuna"] | [member="Garivald"] | [member="Taris"] | [member="Darth Atrace"] | [member="Crentice"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Darth Urak"] | [member="Zayden Madera"]

Though he had every intention of offering instruction himself, first he wished to observe the others, take note of how they would approach the complex task of issuing lessons to such a diverse group. He knew may took to violence as an instruction method: push the students to breaking point and force them to live up to their potential to survive the encounter. And so we learn that fundamental lesson: a wounded animal is, by far, more dangerous than one that feels it is in no danger. Only one of the two ever has cause to feel invulnerable. The other knows that survival is theirs only if they take it. He had little inclination for such lessons, but understood well how valuable they might be to those here.

[member="Darth Azurea"] had moved along with a small handful of students, and it was her that the Sith Lord followed, curious as to her methods. Mullarus was known to be a straightforward being among the Sith - perhaps more circumspect than the average, but nonetheless direct. Azurea was about as straightforward as the layers on an onion: it seemed that, each time you believed you know who you were talking to, there was something else beneath that made you question it. Subtlety seemed her weapon, and it was this that intrigued him.

Illusions first, then? That was amusing: those were among the more advanced techniques that a Sith might learn, something that Tirdarius had spent years working hard to develop and, perhaps, master. To touch a mind was a simple thing, though harder still to understand anything within it. As though the mind were a box to be unlocked, or a book to be read. Such are the misconceptions of the naive... That Azurea had chosen this...that was both surprising and yet oddly gratifying. A good move, to place a complex discipline in a position that might make it seem yet simple, so the uninitiated might learn it absent the usual reservations. Crafty, that was certain.

Grey eyes flickered between the students as each attempted to create an illusion - less a mind trick, more a manifestation of one's own thoughts, rendered visible with little solidity, but very real appearance. It was an extension of several different skills, but first and foremost had to appear authentic. Craft an illusion of birds that do not sing, or a man walking towards you that neither breathes nor whose footsteps make neither mark nor sound, and it will be known for what it is. It was a common mistake, and thus required sensory memory and considerable imagination to produce. Not to mention uncommon skill.

One of the students had already started, creating a simple static image of themselves, moving rapidly as though covered by a screen that his partner could not see through. Tirdarius shook his head, noting the absence of true detail: the young man had not moved to conceal the dust thrown up by his movement, nor had his illusion act as a real being: not the flicker of an eyelid in an involuntary blink, not the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, or any of the several dozen micromotions that made it clear that you were looking at a living being, rather than a projected snapshot.

"An illusion is not a picture thrown into the air, but a living, breathing, malleable creature, flowing like water through your hands," he remarked softly, his expression calm and vaguely disdainful, only the slightest curve of his lips giving any emotion to the tone of his words. "You weave it like a tapestry that must always be in motion, with every little detail accounted for, and perhaps amplified. Anything less, and you have failed, for the subconscious mind will always be quick to pick up on inaccuracies."

What the boy had attempted ultimately depended on the illusion's target taking their eyes off him for a moment, that he might craft the image and move without being observed. Otherwise the doppelganger will only cause momentary confusion, and not enough to fool any trained Force User. To be successful in providing the effect he had aimed for, it would be better to stand still and create moving illusions, something that might provoke the victim into following one of those, or simply ensuring that the projection blanketed a wider area, with a more direct influence. It is the mind of your opponent that you must truly convince.

"Do not project yourself: that is yet a more advanced skill," he advised the younger Sith, folding his arms across his chest, observing with that same direct, unblinking stare. "Craft an illusion of your opponent: show him what you see, as you see it. Every crease in his robe, every furrow in his brow, every particle of dust flowing around his boots. It is not important to seek advantage now: what you must learn is to include detail, absolutely make those around you believe fully in what they are seeing." He offered a slightest shrug. "If we do not believe that what we see is real, we will know we are being manipulated. Such a thing tends to warrant a violent response."

 

[Crentice]

Seeing the knight expose his face, Crentice figured it was time to reveal himself. He took down the hood over his his helmet, and pressed a button on his neck, causing steam to release from the mouth area. Crentice removed his mask and set it beside him.

Crentice sat down and began to concentrate on this. He thought of everything he hated and loved. He even began thinking about his quest for his brothers, which was very important to him. As he thought on this, the force began showing him visions of the past. Crentice saw a vision of his adopted parents dying. Then he saw something that hasn't happened before. It showed an image of the person who was training him, calling him his brother, on board of a ship's bridge.

This sight caused Crentice to become increasingly angry, primarily at himself for not realizing this was one of his brothers, but also at Atrace for not remembering him. The force began surrounding his body, and rushing through it as well. His anger began to overwhelm his head slowly, and before he knew it, the vision was gone. But Crentice was still captivated by the anger he felt.

[member="Darth Atrace"]

 

[Vega the Chaos Mage]

Amethyst hues hunted for the pack. Training was essential; she'd progress no further without it, according to her master - [member="The Traveler"]. That's what he went by, anyway. She didn't complain; he had every right to remain incognitos to what his true name had been, or once were. As a result of his order, she did exactly what he demanded: proceeded to train. Of course, there was a matter of where to instigate this demand. There were many fields to practice, but to be honest her current lust for knowledge resided in the field of the lightsaber. A powerful weapon for both Jedi and Sith, but merely dead weight if one didn't know how to execute the maneuver and luminosity of its blade. The particular field seduced her most, and as a result, her eyes searched for those also desiring the mastery of the elegant weapon. Eventually her eyes fell upon the vast pack, all dotted within their own comfortable space. It was self-explanatory acolytes were among them; however, Vega failed to acknowledge who to go before in order to go before to train in the desired field. She'd slap herself for her lack of knowledge in the matter if the situation weren't serious. But she held back her fist, clenching it while she proceeded forward towards the crowd with her head held high and physique straightened as she drew even closer to her fellow brothers and sisters. A mere cough erupted in her throat to gain their attention and acknowledgement of her arrival. Once the cough had been performed she linked scorched digits at the base of her back, raising her head a little higher so the tattered hood didn't obscure purple gems.

"I- excuse me. Who is it among you all that I seek out in order to begin training in the art of the lightsaber?" Vega calmly questioned, straightening her shoulders. They were tense, but of course she could maneuver them. "I'd like to add what an honor it is to be among you all - both acolytes and masters alike. I am merely. . . Vega."

 

[Krux Mullarus]

"Acolyte Young" Mullarus emphasized, nodding, "A pleasure to meet you. I take it you have come because I mentioned Force Grip?"

Time to show off.

Now that the two were closer to the Tomb of Ajunta Pall, a few more ancient, rune-decorated pillars rose from the sand. Mullarus reached out with a hand and made a crushing motion, crumpling a pillar into pieces. "I take it you know the basic telekinesis? Force Grip is similar to that, only instead of just moving objects with your mind, you're manipulating matter with a massive, invisible hand. You can pick things up, throw things, or, Grip's most renowned use..."

Mullarus gripped a piece of the crumpled pillar high into the air and closed his fist, crushing it.

"To crush."

With that, he turned to the acolyte once again, "Do not be as ignorant as most non-force-users who call it 'Force Choke'. Choking is merely a popular use of Force Grip. It's only a fraction of what you could do with it. I, personally, tore a man in half with it once. Now..."

Mullarus lifted another, smaller piece of debris up and set it down before the Acolyte. "Practice, Young. Start by manipulating the Hand to grab and lift objects, then we will work on crushing things.

[member="Jardo Snow"]

 

[Taris]

Taris had never conjured an illusion, it was only upon arriving to Korriban did he decide to pursue the enigmatic and arcane art. He was an assassin after all, techniques such as illusions are a necessary tool to a shadow walker and a prime method of how to handle a situation without getting one's hands dirty. The more he thought about the skill the more interested he grew. Being able to trick the eye seemed like a difficult task, if a single detail is off, the illusion may as well be considered a failure. Taris quickly silenced his thoughts as his partner Urak began to demonstrate his illusion.

He observed carefully as Urak projected an image of himself in the center of the temple. A self projection... A technique considered to be on the more advanced side of the spectrum. His partner sure was an ambitious one, that's for sure. He carefully observed the projection; it consisted of all the necessary physical traits a human carried, Taris considered the aesthetic portion of the illusion a success. For the metaphysical portion, it was greatly lacking. Any person could easily tell this was not an actual living being, for it had no emotions, no defined personality traits, and above all it lacked the appearance of having a conscious. Before Taris could even think of what he would conjure, a soft yet stern voice spoke out from the other end of the temple.

"Do not project yourself: that is yet a more advanced skill. Craft an illusion of your opponent: show him what you see, as you see it. Every crease in his robe, every furrow in his brow, every particle of dust flowing around his boots. It is not important to seek advantage now: what you must learn is to include detail, absolutely make those around you believe fully in what they are seeing."

Taris took every word the sith lord spoke to heart. He then directed his attention towards his partner across from him. He blocked out all other things in his peripheral, focusing only on Urak who stood no more than twenty feet away. Observing for the most faint details, Taris gazed at Urak, he began to register the most principle of details first: his height, weight, and posture. Then onto his clothing and basic detailing. After having a seemingly accurate depiction of his partner in his mind, he then began to focus on the smallest of details. The patches of dust his dark tattered robe collected from the wind carrying the sand through the air, the rips and tears at the end of his cloak most likely caused from an intense combat situation or an extreme training exercise, the small indentations on his chest plate placed for stylistic purposes. Each detail was essential.

Taris took in the appearance of Urak one final time and closed his eyes. In his mind he was essentially building an exact replica of a living being, therefore he had to give it living qualities. He produced a heartbeat, as well as the motion of a chest taking in oxygen. Each beat from the heart was placed rhythmically after every inhale and exhale. He gave the body a faint sway, he believed it made the Illusion appear more alive. After fully constructing the copy, he manifested a a small amount of force energy directly in front of him, exactly proportionate to the size of Urak. He then opened his eyes to find what was considered a duplicate of his partner. It seemed as if it was living and breathing; astonished with his own success he began to lose focus causing the illusion to quickly fade away.

​Triumphant yet frustrated in his brief instant of success, Taris turned to [member="Tirdarius"] and bowed, grateful to him for bestowing his knowledge onto a mere acolyte.

 

[Atrace]

Atrace looked at Crentice, "good, but you must control your anger use it to your advantage don't let it consume you acolyte" He would continue to monitor the acolyte closely waiting to see if he had to stop his rage by force or if he would control his anger.

"Force Rage, is a very powerful technique if you use it properly you will be unstoppable." He would take off his robe to cool himself, taking a drink out of his cantine which he had brought to make this training session a little more bearable.

Atrace couldn't put his finger on it but something was off about this acolyte, it had been bothering him since they first met only a few minutes prior. "if you don't mind me asking, who are you? you seem familiar but it's also like I've never seen you before."

[member="Crentice"]

 

[Crentice]

The anger welled up inside of Crentice, causing the sand around him to go up into a whirlwind. Crentice rose from the ground slowly, gaining his balance. His eyes opened, showing a bright yellow Iris with a ring of blood red coursing through the middle of them, instead of the usual blue that hid behind the mask. He let out heavy pants of anger. Then, he immediately grabbed a vibro blade from his sheath in his left hand and lashed it at [member="Darth Atrace"] at a quick pace.

While lashing at Darth Atrace, he said to the knight in a slow, heavy, and loud voice, "I... AM YOUR.... BROTHER!" and attempted to make a strike towards Atrace, fueled by anger and hatred. Not knowing what he was doing as he himself was unconscious to the power of the dark side of the force, and that was all he believed he was at that moment of time. Almost like seeing the visions together caused the force in him to snap.

 

[Atrace]

Atrace was surprised to see the vibroblade coming towards him it grazed his chest drawing a small amount of blood, he jumped back igniting one of his two sabers. Thoughts rushed through the Knights head how could this man...a man he has never met before in his life be so closely related to him?

He quickly got into a defensive stance allowing his negative emotions to consume him, he looked at [member="Crentice"] trying to anticipate his next movement. if this man was his brother he would indeed prove to be a difficult opponent.

"You aren't my brother. that title belongs to Urak!" He ran at the acolyte swinging his saber against the acolytes vibroblade pushing it towards at [member="Crentice"] "you need to control yourself or I will have to destroy you!"