Faction [NJO] Among the Roots, We Grow

[Tydos Kaldan]

His mind raced as he quickened his pace from the others. Failure, or at least, a deviation, the one act that could disrupt the flow-state of the otherwise calm padawan. Such an importance was placed on first impressions, such a regimented plan, that the deviations caused a rupture in what was a stable handling and a normal social exchange. He immediately recognized his own errors, taking note of them as his mind began to recompose and knit the damages into mental lessons. Too much time in the libraries, the isolation of his quarters, and the meditation chambers. His experiences left a lot to be learned from.

Tydos turned at the sound of Jobbi's voice. He did turn completely, offering a brief glance back to Kas with a nod of understanding. He had spent too much time in contemplating his approach to the social interaction that he had altered so drastically when the plan failed to pan out. Jobbi's assurances were enough to bring him back into the fold.

"It is quite alright, Jobbi. Your friendliness has not gone without notice." he extended his own hand to shake her own, chuckling at her compliment. The first time he had laughed during their expedition, "Thank you, and no, it is quite sweet."

It was Aris' words that beckoned his attention next. The stern calm was a lure for the similarly calm padawan, despite his social angst at his standing with the other padawans. He gestured Jobbi along to walk with him and rejoin the core of the group. His eyes began to follow the cue of his mind's warnings, and his hands drifted ever so slightly nearer to his belt.

TAGS: Aris Noble Jobbi Chantin Kas Larsen

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Tython
Tags: Xuko Pagoi Aris Noble Valery Noble
Outfit

Interesting. Reina had always thought she was the aggressive one amongst the Padawans, ready to jump into a fight at the moment's notice. Yet as she noticed other Padawans hands moving towards their Lightsabers, Reina kept her hands to herself, folding her arms along her front instead. If the Flesh Raiders were so eager for a fight, they'd have launched into one instead of watching. They were curious. Wanting to see how the rag-tag group functioned perhaps. There was at least one unfamiliar sight for them in the form of Jobbi more than likely, as she turned her gaze ahead of herself once more.

"Initiative for what?"

Her tone was steady. None of the frustrations from earlier coming out as she was curious as to what Xuko expected them to do. Did he want to break out into a pre-emptive strike before they were attacked? That was assuming that these Flesh Raiders were aggressive in the first place. Reina's eyes darted over towards Valery for a moment, a frown coming across her face. Was this some kind of test from Valery? To see how the Padawans would react to this kind of danger?

"I think Aris has the right train of thought. We see what the Grandmaster suggests. She has more experience than all of us combined."

If push came to shove...Reina did have Pequod to use at the end of the day. But for once, she was trying not to resort to violence as her first action. Rushing in head first without thinking was how she lost her leg. She didn't want any of the Padawans losing some form of limb, or worse their life. She just kept her arms folded as she walked, her eyes darting towards the treeline every so often.
​

 

[SlagathorTheUnknown]

(Wrong account, see below)

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko blinked, not expecting the question to come from Reina Daival 's direction. The Zabrak gestured uncertainly, not wanting to start another argument with her- not with two dozen Fleshraiders slowly closing in on them.

"The group" he said, by way of explanation. "The Grandmaster can always step in if she wants. But how will we learn about each other if she does all the thinking for us?" Valery Noble That was why they were on this hike in the first place, right? The Zabrak struggled to recall everything that Grandmaster had said at the beginning of the trek.

HIs thoughts were interrupted as one of the Fleshraiders growled something from the treeline, and it took a second for Xuko to recognize it as speech- albeit in a tongue unfamiliar to him. The harsh vocal cords of the Fleshraider gave no clue as to whether it was a query, a command, or some kind of order to the rest of the hunters.

"Does anyone speak their tongue?" asked Xuko. With over 6 million languages in the galaxy it was a small hope that one of his comrades understood it, but he was among the most recent arrivals to Tython... perhaps others had studied a few phrases just for such an occasion.

@Other Padawans

 

[Ilaria Morvayne]

Chapter Two: A Mask of Death and Shadow

---

[OPEN] - Mentions: Reina Daival Xuko Pagoi Kas Larsen Valoria Elryne Jobbi Chantin Aris Noble Tydos Kaldan Valery Noble



The treeline whispered secrets.

Tython had always spoken in layers — mist and wind, memory and silence — and Ilaria Morvayne had learned long ago how to listen. Not just with ears, but with presence. She walked at the same calm pace, neither accelerating nor hesitating, even as the air grew thicker with tension and the Padawans around her shifted like animals sensing a storm. Fingers brushed against lightsabers. Eyes darted sideways. Hearts, once beating in a shared rhythm of companionship, now fluttered off-beat — some with anticipation, others with fear.

She felt all of it.

And yet, her posture did not change.

She was centered.

Poised.

Distant.

It wasn't that she didn't sense the approaching danger. Quite the opposite. Ilaria had felt the watchers for some time now — long before Aris's calm warning or Xuko's narrow-eyed suspicion. The presence in the underbrush hadn't surprised her. The pattern of movement was familiar, the way the figures slipped between branches with an unsettling confidence, too calculated to be beasts. Too purposeful.

Fleshraiders.

She did not need to see them to be sure.

And when the growl came — not a roar, not a snarl, but something deliberate — she understood it immediately. Not the intent, which was obvious, but the meaning. The syntax. The cadence. The inflection of a language whose guttural consonants and broken rhythm were shaped by jaws not made for Basic.

She understood it.

And she said nothing.

Not because she couldn't translate. But because she wouldn't.

There was more to learn here in silence than in speech.

She glanced to the side as the others reacted — a slow pivot of the head, measured and graceful. Her gaze swept the group like a scalpel's edge. Dissecting. Recording.

Kas. Friendly, perhaps too friendly. Quick to offer help, to smile, to mend cracks before understanding their shape. He meant well. But goodwill alone was a poor shield.

Reina. There would be, delicate amusement in watching her lose control of herself here and now. Alas, it probably was not the time for such measures if Ilaria wished to keep appearances up.

Valoria. Guarded. Controlled. Not cruel, but calculating. Her discomfort with Jobbi was telling, not for what it said about the Huttlet, but for what it revealed about Valoria's carefully constructed boundaries. She was the kind to wield distance like armor. Respectable. Predictable. But limited.

Jobbi. Earnest. Achingly so. Like a candle trying to warm a stormfront. Ilaria could already see the shape of her arc: a child desperate to be liked, who would either break under the world's weight… or transform into something no one expected. The latter possibility intrigued her.

Tydos. Composed on the surface, but fragile beneath. Cracks beneath the ritualistic posture. A student of form, still untested by chaos. A mind that would either calcify or sharpen, depending on the next few choices.

And then — Xuko.

Ah, Xuko.

The warrior. The questioner. The one who poked at authority not to rebel, but to understand. His challenge toward Aris was not born of ego — not truly. It was a test. For Aris. For himself. For all of them.

That made him dangerous.

That made him useful.

Ilaria kept her arms folded loosely behind her back as she walked, not breaking formation, not rushing to anyone's defense. She knew the Fleshraiders' tactics. Their eyes were on the group. Not just assessing strength — but dynamics. The same way a wolfpack gauges which deer stumbles as it runs.

Let them watch.

If this was a lesson — orchestrated by Valery, or simply delivered by the will of the Force — it would not be hers to interrupt. Not yet.

Instead, she watched.

She watched Jobbi, scrambling forward in her strange, endearing way, trying to repair a perceived wound in Tydos's pride. So eager to be accepted. It was almost painful to witness — but necessary. If the girl couldn't find resilience in rejection, she would shatter later, and harder.

She watched Tydos, whose voice had softened, whose composure was returning. Perhaps there was a student in him yet who could become something more than just a shadow following doctrine.

She watched Reina, arms folded, refusing to be the first to flinch. Not with violence. Not with fear. The redhead had tempered since their first encounter. Her defiance now had an edge of maturity to it. Still volatile… but beginning to understand the weight of consequence. Promising.

She watched Aris, who had spoken first, but not loud. Not commanding. Simply steady. That steadiness, she noted, came from pain. Not training. Pain made people sharp. Polished them like riverstones. He understood fear — and that made him dangerous in the right way.

And finally, she watched Valery.

Every Jedi in this forest turned to her now. Whether with trust or skepticism, whether hoping for guidance or waiting for permission. That, Ilaria thought, is true power. Influence without force. Control without lifting a hand.

How many of them realized it?

How many would become that kind of leader?

Or would they fall to more desperate paths — ones less elegant, but more efficient?

Her eyes drifted back to the brush, where the shadows moved again. She heard another word. Testing. The Fleshraiders were still waiting. Measuring.

So was she.

She could have responded in their tongue. With words designed to de-escalate. Or provoke. She knew how. She had done so before. She remembered standing among them in blood and fog, learning their crude philosophy of strength, bargaining with their chieftains not with empathy, but leverage.

That knowledge still lived inside her. Just beneath the surface. Like the way her stance always aligned instinctively with the center of gravity. Like the way she could spot the most insecure Padawan in a single glance.

She breathed in.

And held the words behind her teeth.

Because what mattered now was not whether the Fleshraiders attacked.

It was how these Padawans reacted when they thought no one would save them.

Because that would define them.

And if they couldn't rise… then perhaps they were never meant to.

She let her gaze settle for one final moment on Xuko, who stood now with frustration writ across his brow. "Are you going to take initiative, or not?"

A fair question.

But not one she would answer.

Not yet.

Instead, Ilaria's voice — soft, composed, exact — drifted into the group like a surgical note:

"If we are not under attack, then we are under scrutiny. You are all far too eager for combat, to play the game on the Fleshraider's terms."

Not a command. Not even a warning. Just a mirror, held up for the wise to read between the lines.

And with that, she returned to silence.

Back to her place at the edge of the formation.

Back to watching.

Waiting.

​

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Tython
Tags: All y'all paddies.
Outfit

She had to fight the urge to sigh. To let her frustrations out once more. It wanted to bubble up to the surface and erupt in some form of vitriol. But she held back that tidal wave of emotions as she focused on her breathing. Whilst the others might have been watching the Flesh Raiders, Reina's eyes were on the group of Padawans. Assessing them in her own mind for who she needed to be aware of the most. Who's actions were potentially going to be the most catastrophic? Who might jump into action first in a misguided attempt of valiant heroism like she'd have done in the past?

Her eyes went to the people who screamed classic hero to her. Xuko and Kas. At the very least, Xuko seemed to be trying to do things diplomatically. Converse with the Fleshraiders even if none of them knew the language. Kas was more of an unknown. How would he react to this? She hadn't been paying that much attention to him...but he didn't seem like the type to be all gung-ho. That was good at least.

Aris and Valoria were two more that weren't too much of a danger of messing the situation up. Aris was far more experienced than Reina was, and if it wasn't for Valery, she'd...begrudgingly be looking to him to see what he'd do. Valoria at the very least from Reina's eyes didn't seem like the kind to want to take the spotlight and be the hero. To be the first to act.

No. The two that worried Reina the most were Tydos and Jobbi. Tydos was one of the few she could see who had their hand at the ready for their lightsaber...and Jobbi, bless their heart...or hearts? Did Hutts have multiple hearts? Back to the topic at hand, Jobbi seemed like the kind who'd want to prove herself by protecting everyone if she could...if she even knew what the threat of the Flesh Raiders could be.

Yet...Illaria was an unknown to Reina. The Watcher being the Watched for a moment, as she echoed Reina's own thoughts for a moment. It was an uneasy feeling that crept into Reina's bones at that. She wasn't fond of being on the same line of thought with anyone. Instead, she cleared her throat. Being wise and diplomatic wasn't exactly her forte but...

"...Don't forget. We're here to listen and learn who we're walking besides. Depending on your...point of view, that could include the Flesh Raiders. This is as much their home as the Jedi. If anything, they might see us as the aggressors or invaders. We...shouldn't be hasty to resort to violence with them. Even if we can't speak the same language...we can still find ways to communicate."

She could have said our home, but it wasn't. Not Reina's. Tython would never be her home. She hated the Jungles. The dirt beneath her feet. But it was a home all the same. It was also surreal at how...light she felt for a moment. Whilst she knew there should be an immense amount of weight on her shoulders, Reina felt herself...at a calm. Relaxed. She allowed her gaze to drift away from the group of Padawans to look towards the Flesh Raiders, as she held her hands in the air to show she was disarmed, before she reached into her bag, pulling out a pack of...sandwiches. Specifically of the fish variety.

"...I'm sure fish skin counts as flesh. "

It was a peace offering in a way. Food was one of the universal languages of the Galaxy. She didn't dare throw it towards them, in the off chance it was seen as an attack. Instead Reina stepped off towards the side, slightly away from the group of Padawans and left the sandwiches on the side, removing some of the bread to show the fish before she slowly backed away to join the rest of the group, her gaze falling upon the padawans once more.

Reina didn't want to admit it, but in a way, her and Illaria were being relatively similar in how they were acting. Yet whilst Illaria seemed to be content to watch and wait, to see what would happen, Reina was watching for a different reason. Whilst most would clearly be more concerned about the Flesh Raiders attack, Reina was watching her fellow Padawans instead. If any of them were to be the aggressor...as much as Reina hated the damned nickname, she was a little Shield. She'd have to defend against the aggressor of this situation.

She could see flashes of what could happen in her mind. Blood being spilt. Screams echoing through her head. Bodies strewn across the floor. Reina refused to let that happen. There was the possibility that violence was the answer for this specific situation...but for once, it was not Reina's answer. In a way, she had went a step closer to the person she had wanted to be. The bloodthirsty urges that she had, the ones that wanted to rush into battle...She could control them. She could control herself.

What had happened to her? What had happened to the Reina who'd run into this straight away, with her Lightsaber held aloft? The woman who'd let her frustrations show instead of dealing with them internally? Was this what Everest had meant when she said Reina was changing for the better? None of that was important in this moment.
​

 

[Kas Larsen]

Equipment: Jedi Jumpsuit | Utility Belt
Tags: None, Exiting Thread

Kas listened and watched the Padawan Learners. Being only a Jedi Initiate he shouldn't have tagged along on this venture. It had merely only been days since he and his siblings came to Tython. The young Jedi attempted to befriend those around him but there was still tension and awkwardness emitting from the others. There wasn't unification at all and he attempted to rally others but in the end it failed miserably.

The Initiate fell silent and decided to retreat back the way everyone came through the trail and path taken. He wasn't fitting in with anybody here. The majority were just silent and kept to small talk. There wasn't anyone or anything bringing positive energy. Especially when a few of the Padawan Learners either argued or debated with one another. This wasn't for him the energy and time was wasted.

All he felt that was unfolding upon him was being watched by the others. This all felt forced for Kas as he passed through the group of Padawan Learners. Once there was distance he glanced back for a few moments. Shaking his head where nothing had felt natural or right from his perspective. There wasn't true friendships gained with anybody seemed all the Padawan Learners were ones to be independent from each other. Didn't need or want any unification from outside.

Kas travelled back towards the Jedi Temple on his own. He felt the atmosphere was more negative, stale than positive, filled with any motivation. There was a trio of Rogue Flesh Raiders that eyed Kas as he separated from the group of Jedi. They singled him out and the Jedi Initiate was unprepared for encountering any potential threats.

Far from the group and far from reaching the Temple. Kas felt a strike to the back of his head one of the three Flesh Raiders that was part of a rogue group slammed a fist off Kas' head. The Jedi Initiate was knocked out, left unconscious, the Flesh Raiders began beating the teenager up. SLAM! CRACK! SNAP! All sorts of impacting sounds was heard among them.

Once they were done in marking their territory by attacking Kas and leaving him with broken ribs, some fractures, bruising and cuts where blood was pouring out. They took the Jedi Initiate off to the point where Temple Guards would spot Kas being dropped off by the Flesh Raider trio. Left in a beaten and bloody mess, taken inside of the Temple to be ushered into the medical wing.

Jedi Healers and Medics did their best with the Initiate it wasn't good for now. Kas was now under a comatose state. Left lying in a medical bed, wired up to monitors to keep an eye on his heart rate and other vital life signs. Stable for now, his twin sister Kari and younger brother Darex had barged in to be with him. In tears and panicking in how this happened to their brother.

They were Initiates too; Darex and Kari now having seen Kas in a coma. They wouldn't separate from each other ever again. They'd remain together and the trio of the Larsen bloodline would be stronger together than divided.

~Exit Thread~

 

[Auren Kah'el]

Suddenly, something shifted. Auren's breath caught mid-step, his body instantly alert. It was subtle at first—like the charged silence before a storm; the once calming forest now seemed to press inward, the rustling leaves sounding more like whispered warnings.

He instinctively slowed his pace, eyes narrowing as he carefully scanned the trees around them. His pulse quickened, senses reaching outward. Something was watching them.

Without thinking, he moved closer to Alamie Hulo , his voice low and steady. "Stay close," he murmured, the politeness from their earlier conversation replaced entirely by vigilance.

Another faint rustle sounded, closer now, coming from the dense brush to their left. Auren felt the threat clearly this time. He glanced swiftly toward Valery Noble at the front of the group, wondering if she had sensed it as well. Every muscle in his body tensed, poised for action, awaiting a signal or a sign.

Auren didn't have a lightsaber. He guessed some of the other Padawans might, but how skilled were they? His eyes snapped back Valery and Aris Noble , hoping to see them readying themselves for whatever threat might appear.

With his attention rapidly shifting between multiple points of concern, he felt a wave of anxiety. He hadn't spoken with everyone in the group yet, but this surely had to be the test Valery had intended. Auren felt a minor sense of responsibility to protect Alamie, but his worry extended to all of the newcomers as well.

Should he act intuitively now, or was this a moment meant for observation? Either way, he had no formal training yet; if this was indeed a test, he knew he'd have to trust his instincts.

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

The others started talking in Basic, and Jobbi heard her name called by Aris Noble – it sounded like there was concern about people in the brush around them. Jobbi had been so focused on meeting the Padawan's she hadn't seen or heard them until the standoff was already underway.

She tried to make out what the others were saying and take measure of the situation.

"that could include the Flesh Raiders [...]

The name sent Jobbi’s mind into an angry spiral.

"Flesh Raiders?"

Her tail flicked uncomfortably at the sound of the words. She’d heard enough stories from her father to recognize the powerful underworlds he liked to engage in. She wasn’t exactly stupid, right? "Flesh Raiders" sounded like one of those gang-crew things her father kept hidden from her, like "Deathmark Collectors" or "Bloodthorn Syndicate". The type of people who worked for him, mostly to get some easy credits and keep an eye on his "sweet little girl".

Well, Jobbi didn’t need anyone looking after her. Not anymore. She was a Padawan, for Force’s sake! Almost 90 years old! The Hutt equivalent of a 17-year-old human!.

Her body stiffened with righteous indignation as she slithered toward the treeline where she’d heard rustling. Her orange-yellow eyes glinted with fury as she crashed through the brush, shoulders rolling in exaggerated, forced confidence.

"Achuta! Chuba hagwa moova jee dee boonkee peetchay!" Jobbi shouted in her best authoritative Huttese, not caring that they were clearly tribal looking, nor would they understand a word of it.

She flailed a hand dismissively, the other holding her satchel awkwardly, and gestured at the approaching "Flesh Raiders" like they were her personal business.

"Settah ma popo da jee hagwa naga hees pawa hoohah moova jee dee boonkee miki tee-tocky! Jee hopa magoosa!" Her words sloshed out like a flood. "Dobrah peetch tee-tocky tee-nobata! Jee chuba doo bukee ateema. Jee hagwa naga gardo tuta ta Jedai!"

She didn’t notice them looking confused at one another, nor did she notice how the group of Flesh Raiders stopped in their tracks as the stench of Hutt filled the air, strong enough that even the trees seemed to shiver in disgust. The flesh raider's evolved olfactory senses - eight nostril slits on the upper lip, was ill prepared for the unintentional defence mechanism.

In fact, one of the Flesh Raiders—a hulking brute—paused, sniffed, and retched into the underbrush. Loudly. Turning away from her in utter revulsion.

Jobbi, however, was completely oblivious to this. She was too busy pointing a dramatic finger at them like she was some sort of authority figure.

"An nobata wankee jee haku tah do, chuba hees!" she finished, giving a dramatic, forceful wave of her hand.

She turned back to the others with an indignant humph, completely unaware that the raiders closest to her fled from her scent, not her scolding.

Valoria Elryne Tydos Kaldan Aris Noble Reina Daival @Padawans​

 

[Tydos Kaldan]

Tydos minded the threat in his own way. While the others contemplated the ethics of action, the ethics of non-intervention against aggression, Tydos prepared for the probable. His mind proceeded from the premise that at least one padawan would attempt some form of reasoning, that his own attempt to pave that road would be futile as worst, and aiding at best. He looked to the others, realizing that Auren was lacking in armament.

Yet, for all of his calculation he still found the lack of action perplexing. Were they truly in danger? Jobbi, his errant partner in the group's walk, had decided for them. He watched as she derided them in Huttese, at least, that is what he presumed had been happening. When they had fled from her presence, he divined that the threat had been abrogated in some degree.

His hand, clasped just over the top of his saber hilt, faded from it as quickly as it reached. Tydos continued his walk with more vigilance, as if he wasn't fully sure that the threat had passed in its entirety.

TAGS: Jobbi Chantin Auren Kah'el Ilaria Morvayne Valery Noble Aris Noble Reina Daival Xuko Pagoi

 

[Ilaria Morvayne]

Chapter Two: A Mask of Death and Shadow

---

[OPEN] - Mentions: Reina Daival Xuko Pagoi Valoria Elryne Jobbi Chantin Aris Noble Tydos Kaldan Valery Noble



The moment passed like a ripple in shallow water — present, perceptible, but unable to unsettle anything of depth.

Ilaria Morvayne remained precisely where she had been, her footing unshaken, her gaze steady beneath dark lashes. She had not spoken again since her earlier warning. She did not need to. Words, in moments like this, often clouded more than they clarified. Better to watch. Better to let the currents move around her — revealing the shape of those caught in them.

And what she saw disappointed her.

Not because anyone had done something wrong. No, that would have at least been instructive. A reckless charge. A misplaced attack. A panicked scream — those would have taught her something valuable about her peers. About their breaking points. Their instincts.

Instead… she had seen posturing.

Caution disguised as maturity. Nervous glances mistaken for wisdom. Shifts in footing meant to convey readiness, but all they truly betrayed was insecurity.

Almost everyone was trying so hard to look like Jedi.

Which only served to remind Ilaria how far from it they truly were.

She allowed herself a slow breath through her nose — subtle, elegant, silent. Then her gaze turned, gliding to each of the Padawans who had dared to move, dared to speak.

Reina.

The red-haired enigma, stubborn as she was scarred. Ilaria had been watching her long before this little drama began. Watching the way Reina moved — not out of fear, but readiness. The fire in her eyes had tempered, cooled, yet there was still heat beneath it. That much was evident in the way her jaw clenched, in the restless tension of her stance.

And yet…

She placed a sandwich on a rock.

Ilaria's expression remained unreadable. Not a flicker of amusement or disdain touched her features, but inwardly, she filed the gesture away with cold precision.

Sentiment disguised as strategy. A noble gesture — and a foolish one.

Food as a language was universal, yes. But it was also ambiguous. A gift? An insult? A trap? The gesture relied not on intention, but on interpretation — and such assumptions, made in the field, often led to corpses. Reina was trying to be something new. Trying to tame the creature within her that once would have lunged forward without thought. There was value in that, of course. Growth.

But she had not yet learned the lesson she needed to.

Control was not the absence of action. It was knowing exactly when to act, and how to make it hurt.

She would learn. Or she would fall. And Ilaria would be watching.

Auren.

He moved closer to Alamie as the tension rose. Protective. Attentive. Admirable, on the surface — the kind of instinct the Jedi prized. And yet, Ilaria saw the hesitation in his posture. The glance toward the treeline. The brief faltering of breath.

He is not ready.

Not truly. Not when the air thickened. Not when the silence grew. His instincts were in the right place, but his hands were empty. He held no weapon. No confidence. And worst of all — no plan. He was waiting for someone else to make the call. For Valery. For Aris. For the Force.

That was the problem with people like Auren. They mistook their desire to protect for strength, but had never asked themselves what they were willing to sacrifice to do so.

When the moment came — and it would come, eventually — he would either hesitate too long…

Or move too soon.

She hoped he learned. Quickly.

Tydos.

The quiet one. Always the ones to watch. He had approached and retreated from companionship in the same breath, a walking contradiction of confidence and discomfort. Ilaria had already placed him in her mental landscape — a scholar with the gait of a soldier, someone trained more in posture than presence. And now, she saw that confirmed.

His hand hovered at his weapon. Not a draw — but a prelude.

She didn't fault him for it. In fact, she preferred it to the hollow pacifism of those who refused to even consider the blade. But Tydos's readiness was not tactical. It was habit. She could see it in the way his shoulders rose slightly, not enough for combat, but enough to tell her he was bracing for a moment he hadn't fully envisioned.

And when Jobbi — Force help them all, Jobbi — charged into the brush, it was not Tydos who stopped her. Not Tydos who stepped forward.

He let her go.

Then resumed walking.

He prepares for war… but does not command it.

That, she thought, was the kind of Jedi who survived the first battle, and died in the second. When hesitation met chaos. When form no longer matched function.

She turned her eyes toward the trees once more.

And Jobbi.

There were… no words.

Ilaria had not expected much from the young Hutt. Affectionate. Uncoordinated. Loud. But she had expected fear. Or caution. Or perhaps a charmingly misplaced attempt to meditate on the unity of all life.

What she got was something far more unhinged.

A stumbling charge. Huttese curses. Grand declarations. The smell — oh, the smell. The Fleshraiders had retreated.

She watched them flee not from aggression, nor reason, nor diplomacy, but sheer olfactory assault.

Ilaria blinked once. Slowly.

And did not speak.

The galaxy does not reward innocence. But sometimes it is so baffled by it, it forgets to kill you.

Jobbi had somehow weaponized sincerity. It wasn't admirable. It wasn't tactical. But it was effective.

For now.

Eventually, someone would not turn away. Eventually, sincerity would not buy her survival. Eventually, the forest would not be amused.

And Jobbi would learn what the rest of them already knew:

The Force does not protect the naïve. It waits to see what they become.

Ilaria's fingers flexed behind her back. Just once. Like the wind rustling through cloth. Then settled again.

She offered no praise. No critique. Her face remained still. Calm. Perfectly Jedi.

​

 

[Valoria Elryne]

Valoria continued at her same pace, a slow, idle wander, watching as Jobbi squirmed ahead after Tydos. She couldn't say that she would miss her company.

It was only then, when her attention was no longer divided between Jobbi's overwhelming positive attitude and her own false politeness, that she noticed their uninvited compainions.

She couldn't place what it was at first. Just an unsettling feeling that seemed to hang in the air. She'd felt the tension emitting from Reina and Xuxo earlier. This wasn't the same. The tense feeling earlier had been tight, high in energy, but short lived. And by this point, seemed to have already fizzled out for the most part.

No. This was something different.

Surely someone else had noticed it too. Either that or she was reading into things too deeply. Perhaps she was just paranoid. But it almost felt like there was something, beyond the thick trunks of the trees, watching them. Like something was out there just waiting for the right moment to make itself known.

Her suspicions where confirmed as Aris called out towards Tydos and Jobbi.

"Jobbi, Tydos. Come back to the group."

So he felt it too. At his comment, many of the others appeared to become aware of it, and the group seemed to grow closer together. They were no longer spread across the track. Rather, they'd come to a complete standstill.

Finally, she spotted them. Pairs of eyes looking at them from beyond the foliage. She couldn't give an estimate as to how many. But she knew what they were the moment she noticed them.

Flesh Raiders.

Upon her arrival here on Tython, she'd been cautioned as to their presence. Despite being land-bound and restricted to this planet for the past six months, she had yet to encounter them. Which, taking her current situation into account, had probably been for the best.

Valoria kept herself collected, taking the ounce of fear that had begun to rise and stuffing it back down her throat. It wouldn't help anybody.

Their situation was plain now. Everyone was aware of it. And it's severity. Except, perhaps, the Huttlet. But that shouldn't be unexpected to anyone at this point.

She found herself in agreeance with Xuko. The entire point of this was a team building activity. To strengthen their skills in working with one-another. They couldn't be babied by their high-ups forever. At some point they had to learn to face these problems alone.

The low, groveling growl from one of the creatures drew her attention. She hadn't the faintest what it meant.

She'd attempted to learn their language, during the many hours she'd spent stuck within the temple, but none of it had really clicked. At the time, it had been rather low priority to her. Now she wished she'd tried a little harder.

The most she could attempt to say was 'go away,' but that was more likely to provoke them than anything. So it was best she remained silent.

Valoria watched without comment as Reina placed out her peace offering. It was a good idea, but she rather doubted the creatures would be interested in the minimal amount of fish flesh presented. There was so little there, hardly enough to satisfy them all.

It was a nice sentiment though.

Unfortunately, sentiment didn't always work. Not all species viewed sentiment under the same light. A sign of respect for one can been seen as an insult to another.

Valoria had started mentally preparing for the worst. Figuring out how to ensure, that in the worst case scenario, nobody ends up as a corpse left ravaged amongst the forest debris.

As it turned out, it was all for nothing as the Huttlet came storming over. Fearless, in all her naivety, bringing with her that dreadful odour. Valoria found it hard enough to stand as it was. She could only imagine what an assault it would've been on these creature's senses.

The ones near Jobbi had backed away further into the depths of the trees, disappearing from sight.

Valoria refused to see it as permanent.

The sudden onslaught on their senses had forced the Flesh Raiders away. It had been unexpected. And unprepared for. They'd been startled, and reacted as a bird would to a thunderclap. They took flight.

It was a temporary retreat.

No doubt they'd be back.

Still, this bought them time.

Time to think things over. Find a better approach than sending the Huttlet in their direction and hoping the scent is still enough to keep them at bay.

Even so, Valoria was inclined to let one of the others take control of the situation. She didn't trust herself to make the right decision.

Not given her track record.

Valery Noble | Reina Daival | Xuko Pagoi | Jobbi Chantin | Tydos Kaldan | Aris Noble | Ilaria Morvayne | Auren Kah'el
​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery had remained quiet longer than most would expect from her, walking steadily ahead, her presence calm but observant. She'd heard the raised voices. Seen the glances. Felt the push and pull of uncertainty ripple through the group like distant thunder. She stopped. Turning back toward them, she let her gaze sweep across each face — some still processing, some confused, others trying to mask their tension. When she finally spoke, her voice was clear and steady.

"That's enough."

She let the silence breathe for a moment before continuing, calm but resolute. "You've done well to hold your sabers. You've listened — to each other, and in some ways, to the Force. That matters." Her eyes lingered for just a moment on the empty space Kas had once occupied.

"But I won't let another one of you walk off alone. Not after what happened to Kas." Her posture shifted subtly, signaling her full attention now belonged to the group.

"The Flesh Raiders retreated — but we don't know why they were here in the first place. We need to find out. If they're out there, watching more than just us… then they're a threat to others. Other Jedi or even outsiders who don't have the training you do." Valery stepped forward, no longer leading from the front, but standing among them now.

"We are not finished."

She let that hang in the air before speaking again, this time gentler.

"If any of you can't keep going, speak now. I'll arrange for you to be escorted safely back to the Temple. There's no shame in stepping back when needed — only in pretending you're ready when you're not." Her gaze moved from Auren to Tydos, paused briefly on Reina, and finally settled on Jobbi with a faint, unreadable expression.

"The rest of you, form up. We move together now. No more drifting off. No more side conversations or solo missions. If you can't commit to walking with the group, then you don't walk forward at all." She paused just long enough to let the gravity settle in.

She turned her head slightly toward the path ahead.

"We find where those Flesh Raiders came from. And we make sure no one else gets caught off guard."

Valery's hand settled lightly near her saber—not threatening, but steady.

"Those still with me — fall in. We move."

Everybody​

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

Jobbi stood frozen in the clearing, still panting from the charge. Her skin glistened with adrenaline-sweat, her chest heaving like a gelatinous piston. Her tail drooped. Her cheeks—if she had any—would have been flushed with embarrassment.

She hoped they didn't ask about her dad.

Fuzzy peeked from behind her head, as if to ask, What now, genius?

The Grandmaster’s voice brought her head up. Firm. Measured. The kind of voice that filled halls and hearts alike. Jobbi shrank under it—not from fear, but from the knowledge that she had, in fact, charged off alone. That was probably the exact thing they weren’t supposed to do. Oops.

Her tail curled. Not protectively this time—just awkwardly. Self-conscious. Like she wished it could curl her into a neat little spiral and roll her off a cliff.

Still, she listened.

When Valery spoke of Kas, Jobbi’s gaze flicked downward. She didn’t know what had happened exactly. But she knew what it was like to lose someone. And she didn’t want anyone else disappearing.

So when the Grandmaster asked who would stay and who would go, Jobbi squared her shoulders. Or, well. The approximate blob-width where shoulders might be.

She slithered forward.

"I’m with you."

"Jee-jee tah-nah."

She puffed out her chest and added—

"I wasn’t scared of them. I just... I thought they were one of my dad’s weirdo merc gangs. Y’know, ‘Flesh Raiders’ sounds like a gang name, right? Like maybe they’re into protein smuggling or... or black-market spa treatments or something..."

Fuzzy made a strangled squeak.

"...But um. Yeah. I’m ready. I wanna help."

Her hand met only belt.

She patted the other side.
Still nothing.
Then she froze.

She whispered, eyes wide:
"My lightsaber!"

Frantic searching. Quick spin. Check the belt again. Tail uncoils, body flailing ever so slightly.

"Mi hatkocanh bai wermo!"

Fuzzy let out a long, judgmental wheeze and buried his head under the locks of hair.

Jobbi whispered in horror.

"...I’m gonna die with snacks in my bag and no saber..."

But she inhaled. Steadied herself. Even without it, she was strong. And maybe the Force didn’t care about sabers. Maybe the Force cared about doing what was right.

She hoped nobody saw that – or heard it.

"Jee-jee tah-nah mi."

This time, she stayed with the group. Even without her saber. Even with a snack bag full of crinkle-wrapped nutrient bars and two juice boxes
Even with her lightsaber actually tucked inconveniently into the seam of the bag where she couldn't find it when she needed it.
She belonged here.

Maybe.

Valery Noble Tydos Kaldan Valoria Elryne @Padawans​

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko resisted the urge to curse, recognizing in response to Ilaria's words that fear had gripped the Padawans; himself as much as the others. Not fear of harm at the hands of the Fleshraiders- which Xuko would classify instead as concern, but the kind of fear that stems from not wanting to make a mistake in the first place. The kind of fear that made you second-guess your decisions.

Second-guessing got you killed in a fight, which Xuko fully expected to break out.

So it was that his respect for Jobbi Chantin actually increased as the Huttlet charged off at the Fleshraiders. Xuko didn't think it was the right maneuver, but it was a strong choice- one made when the other Padawans, including himself, were battling their own indecisiveness. Xuko recognized that he himself had offered a critique and precious little else, but the time for regrets was not now.

Jobbi was booming something in Huttese that the Zabrak struggled to translate. He caught the words "dad" and "Jedi", but just as quickly turned his focus from a language he was barely familiar with to keeping his senses open for danger- especially from the other side of the path, where Jobbi's charge had not reached. To his surprise, the Fleshraiders were withdrawing from that side of the trail, too, and he watched them slowly disappear until Grandmaster Noble's voice called his attention back to the group.

The Zabrak expected a rebuke, but instead was given a choice- stay and continue, or return to the temple. For Xuko, there was no choice- no hesitation in deciding to stay. Curiosity burned within him, stoked by Ilaria's words and further fanned by Grandmaster Noble's. "If that was an ambush, it was a sloppy one." He glanced around at the path ahead and behind the Padawan Pack, scanning the terrain for chokepoints. "There are better places to lie in wait where they could've remained unseen. And they didn't attack even after they knew they were spotted." The Fleshraiders hadn't even been particularly stealthy. Perhaps restraint had been the best decision, although the Grandmaster's words- and Kas' disappearance- left little doubt that there was potential danger involved with these Fleshraiders.

The benefit of hindsight made things clearer; and even as Xuko knew that he would have to speed up his processing, he saw the opportunity to probe the others' thoughts- the whole group this time, as they would be walking closer together.

"I have not encountered these 'Fleshraiders' before." He had, after all, arrived on Tython just a couple weeks ago. "What would be helpful to know about them?"

@Padawan Pack Valery Noble

 

[Azurine Varek]

Stealth Practice

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman | Purple Bracelet
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 [x] | Lightsaber 2 [x]

A few feet back, nestled amongst the treetops and wrapped in the Force like a cloak that bent the light around her to render her unseen, a figure moved with relative silence. Azzie had been given a very specific task by her master when she was asked to help out with the newest group of padawans, one that she had been committed to holding to. She was to keep an eye out for anything from the back, just in case someone wandered off or got into trouble. Simple enough.

However, it came with a challenge. Some training for a specialization that Valery suggested she might want to consider for when her padawan training finally came to an end: keep herself hidden and see just how long she could follow without being noticed.

That was... less simple, even if it played into a lot of what were her natural strengths. Oh boy, did she need a good, harmless challenge right now.

Sprinting across branches, eyes on the group as they moved along, Azzie had hopped across paths and improvised her way between different trees. A nearly silent specter in the background as she trailed behind them. A couple of times, she made a move or two that rustled some leaves, causing her to stop almost instantly. It didn't seem to draw any attention to her other than looking like wind. That's what gave her an idea. Hitting denser treetops, she moved strictly when the winds came by naturally to hide any excessive rustling.

Soon, a couple of different padawans started going in a couple of different directions. Her violet eyes darted back and forth, instead deciding to use what Aadihr Lidos had been working with her to develop further. She honed in on their auras to create a limited 360° view. She was no Miraluka like he was, and anything that she couldn't see with her eyes directly was still fuzzy with lack of detail, but it was better than losing track of multiple—

Azzie reacted on instinct the moment the one that had ended up down the path behind her was jumped. Even if she was unable to get there, she was at least able to scare off the culprits by jumping from the trees, invisibility shimmering away from her body with the landing, and charging in their direction.

Mumbling a few curses in Iridoni about the cowardly, dishonorable behavior, she pulled back the dusty hued hood back from her head and sprinted back to stand beside Valery, loose strands of her short, raven-black hair falling across her face. "I'm sorry, Master Valery. I should've intervened sooner. That's on me. Do you want me to scout ahead or stick to you from this point?"

Valery Noble | @all the rest of you here, you know who you are!​