Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Sanctum: Sic Venit Gloria Manda


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YAVIN IV, MANDA TEMPLE
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Much had changed in the Empire. Some felt or described the homefront as having suffered from a focus on war. Other planets had been ravaged by the likes of Harrow. Much of which seemed to leave the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV converted into a place of recovery and learning of the Manda unspoiled. There were still Children of the Manda tending to its halls and providing sanctuary throughout all the trials and tribulations suffered by the Mandalorian people.

Runi Kuryida walked the halls of the Temple with a shadow of a smile and nods to all those she passed. The Shaman turned Warmaster was pleased with their efforts. It was much like the Mandokarla whose efforts radiated outward from Kestri. It was good to see a place of refuge where Mandalorian men and women could come to grow stronger, or to rediscover their strength after enduring the harsh trials throughout the galaxy. It also afforded the Empire's "Spiritspeakers" a place to congregate and exchange instruction and ideas. Somewhere separate from their physical and martial brothers and sisters. Not that there was a divide, but it was more difficult to listen in stillness when there were explosions rocking your chamber.

This small moon, Yavin IV, also had a number of ancient ruins or structures that had endured the passage of time. Places used by Dark and Light forces alike over the centuries. Perfect for Mandalorians that ascribed to neither Jedi nor Sith philosophies, but pursed whatever brought strength of mind, body, and spirit. It was this diversity -- in both place and purpose -- that Runi hoped would draw in the many mystics, witches, Force Users, and other uniquely-abled sentients. A neutral ground for exchanging knowledge and growing stronger together. As the Manda required of its Children.

Her steps had taken her through the expansive halls and out to the Arena of Trials where despite a focus on spirituality, Mandalorians still tested their physical (and spiritual) powers against one another. It wasn't enough to just be strong with the gifts of the Manda, but also in personal combat -- a fit body supported a fit mind, and soul. Her hazel eyes watched over those below as they gave and took ground from another another. She drew in a deep breath of crisp air of the largely unspoiled moon with satisfaction seeing so many capable and struggling men and women striving to better themselves.

The shaman had sent word out to many inviting them to this refuge. They could find a home here if they wish, or the opportunity to exchange knowledge or test their mettle. Perhaps they would bring a unique skillset or understanding found no where else in the galaxy; it could become a thriving hub for all those that walk the path.


 
G A I L L A R D I A
TEMPLE OF THE MANDA, YAVIN IV

Rowan Drysi felt like a fish out of water, and that was putting it mildly. Just a handful of months ago, her biggest concern had been whether she wanted to apply to the University of New Alderaan or Coruscant Technical when the time came. She had been the youngest daughter of the Gaillardia family of Ketaris, and while their merchant trade had never made them rich enough to stand out among the Core’s nobility, it had been enough to give her comfort and certainty. There had been no silver spoon in her mouth, but she had never once gone without. Her sixteenth birthday had only just passed, and the path ahead had seemed secure.

That was before fire claimed her world. Flames consumed the home she had grown up in, while Yuuzhan Vong firebreathers tore through Ketaris like some nightmare made real. All of it vanished in the span of a blink, and she would have perished with it had it not been for the Mandalorians. She could still remember the iron hand that had dragged her from the rubble, the warrior clad in beskar’gam who stayed with her, who refused to leave her broken or abandoned. When the question of what she was supposed to do now had spilled from her lips, the woman had given her an answer. Her rescuer, Rhosyn Drysi, had given her a home.

Since then, Rowan had been doing her best to live up to the life that had been handed back to her. She was clumsy at best with Mando’a, and the durasteel armor Rhosyn had helped her don still felt like it belonged to someone else, but this was her life now. These were her people, or at least she would do her utmost to make that true. When Rhosyn suggested she come to Yavin IV, Rowan had wanted nothing more than to curl up in the corner of their freighter and disappear, but she had come all the same. The Temple of the Manda was supposed to be a place where she could learn, maybe even understand what her rescuer seemed to see in her.

Now, helm tucked beneath her arm, she wandered through the grand entry hall until the sound of sparring carried her toward the arena. Her eyes darted across the expanse as her stomach knotted tighter than she cared to admit. When she noticed the woman nearby (someone who clearly belonged here in a way she did not) Rowan lifted her hand in a nervous wave. “Um,” she began, her voice unsteady in a way that made her wince, “am I in the right place? I’m… new at all of this.”


Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida + Open​
 
Rynna's feet swung, heels kicking against the high wall she'd perched herself on overlooking the Mandalorians sparring. Juice ran down her chin as she munched contentedly on a pear. She'd been here since they pulled her off Taris and out of the riots. She couldn't complain; her belly was full, she had a warm place to sleep at night, and for the first time in a long time, she could think about something other than where her next meal would come from.

The worn talisman of the mythosaur skull rested on the outside of her tunic, glinting in the sunlight as she shifted slightly to stave off the numb backside she was getting. She itched to join in, to test herself against others, to learn what it meant to be a Mandalorian and to try and embody the culture her father had come from, but the people here were twice or thrice her age and size and far too intimidating to approach.

So she contented herself by sitting here every day and watching. She tore her eyes from the fight as two others entered the arena, one closer to her age and looking as nervous as Rynna had felt the day they dropped her here. Jamming the pear between her teeth, she pulled herself to standing on the wall and ran along its top, trusting her feet to carry her along its narrow top till she reached the entrance and hopped down.

Scoffing the last few bites of pear, she tossed the core over her shoulder and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. The girl was a whole head taller than her, but in Rynna’s mind, that made her top-heavy. She hung back, her confidence waning slightly. These women were in armour, and while her clothes had been cleaned and properly patched, she was still a scruffy little street rat. A hand moved to the talisman around her neck as she came to a standstill, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the conversation, unsure how to approach.

Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida
 
The armor felt odd, at best. It'd been a while since Adelle had worn any armor and she had usually opted for lighter armors with more mobility. The weight of the durasteel armor, while evenly distributed, felt heavy on her skin and brought up old feelings of claustrophobia. And that was without the helmet. That stayed secure in the crook of her arm as she walked down the halls, heading for the place called the Arena of Trials. Jedi, CorSec, Mando, it didn't matter. The only way she dealt with anxiety was physical exertion.

And it had been a long time since she'd had a good spar.

Adelle frowned as she left the halls of the temple and stepped into the Arena. Somehow she'd found the path to the stands, not the grounds below. A small group of people hung around nearby--two that looked like children and a tall woman that appeared closer to Adelle's age. Adelle cracked her knuckles and slipped by them with a quiet "Su'cuy." Mando'a felt thick on her tongue in spite of practicing but she'd learned Olys Corellisi and that had felt like four or five languages in a Jedi robe that mugged other languages for loose grammar.

It looked like there were no dance partners waiting to spar. Yet. Adelle took a seat in the stands nearby, setting the helmet down next to her, idly drumming the top of it. Her skin felt itchy with anxiety; it'd been a while since she'd been out of her depth this much but she was committed. She didn't do things by half measures.

Nearby: Rynna Rynna | Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida
 

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Telula Vale

TAG: Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Rynna Rynna | Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel | Open
Wearing: [X]


It had been some time since Telula had stepped within the halls of such a hallowed place. An establishment rich with knowledge and offering it to those who sought to not only protect themselves and others from things they may not understand, but to better themselves. Knowledge was the key to unraveling everything, and to this day Lula still soaked up what was available to her like some shore bound, dehydrated sea sponge. Her desire to learn had never ceased, had never diminished; only now, at this age and level of understanding, she enjoyed watching that moment of enlightenment on other's faces as they made some breakthrough or another in their learning.

Years had passed since Lula had been involved with any organization or another, but she had felt the draw to Yavin IV, and now as the heel of her boots sounded against the floors while she wandered the halls, she understood why.

The bright blue of her gaze had swept across more than one Mandalorian within these halls. Some deep within studies - which was almost comical to her - and others who seemed more keen to test their strengths than their minds. But it wasn't these that had Lula still pacing her way through this temple and to the outer edges of it's arena.

And there it was, the draw that may not have brought her here, but had certainly led her down to this point. Younglings, or...whatever they were called here. A smile tugged at one corner of Telula's mouth and she made her way forward to the young gathering. As she approached, she pulled a handkerchief from within the confines of her robe and she offered it to the child with the pear. "It's no good if you're not wearing it, right?" It was not a tease, and the gentle lilt of Lula's voice conveyed agreement in such matters. She looked then down into the arena and her brows lofted, easily visible beneath the shallowness of her hood. "No interest in participating?" she asked the gathered, curious as to why they were here instead of closer to the arena center.





 

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Y A V I N - I V

Temple of the Manda- Courtyard
This was was unlike anything Ferris had ever seen. The trees swallowed the moon in every direction, massive and unending. They seemed tall enough to pierce the sky, as if their branches might touch the stars themselves. Coming from Taris, the foundling was no stranger to towering structures that loomed over and consumed you, but this was different. Where durasteel suffocated, bark breathed. The sheer contrast between steel and forest was staggering, and it left him feeling small in a way he hadn't expected.

Truth be told, Ferris wasn't even certain why he'd come here. They had already tested him for Force-sensitivity and found little. He wasn't one of the lucky few chosen by the Knights, nor did he show the gift of insight the Speakers sought. He was caught in the middle, handy enough with circuits and tools, but nothing that marked him as exceptional. He carried that weight in silence, unsure whether he was here to be molded into something greater or simply to drift along, another nameless youth trying to belong.

Still, part of him had come with purpose. He had heard Rynna was here, the girl he'd met on Taris, during that bitter return when the Diarchy's fighting tore through his home. He hadn't followed her to Yavin IV, not exactly, but the thought of checking in lingered in the back of his mind. Yet as he walked deeper into the temple halls, he realized he didn't know where to find her. So he pressed forward, taking in the sigils and banners that had been etched into ancient stone. Mandalorian symbols everywhere, bold and defiant. They had claimed even this Jedi ruin as their own, proof again of his people's resilience, their ability to carve identity into any place they touched.

Ferris wasn't sure how well he'd been adjusting, but he hadn't died yet. That counted for something. He'd seen battle in the last few months, just enough to harden the edges of his uncertainty, and so far he'd held on. Now, standing before a small gathering in the temple's arena, he noticed one of the younger women among them. Close to his age, just a little shorter, she stood with that same restless energy he felt in himself.

Ferris hesitated at the edge of the group, and for a moment he thought about staying silent, but the words slipped out anyway, his voice carrying that telltale crack of teenage uncertainty. "This place is crazy, huh?" He lifted the helm as he spoke, blonde hair tumbling loose across his brow. The chain of the small necklace pressed cold against his chest beneath the beskar, a reminder of weight he didn't yet understand. Blue eyes flicked nervously across the gathering, searching for some point of anchor, some way to carve out a place among them.





 
Rynna blinked at the offered handkerchief, then at the woman who offered it. She was beautiful, with stark white hair creeping out from beneath her hood and bright blue eyes that made Rynna's jaw drop open for a moment. "Uhhh..." she blinked again, suddenly feeling like she needed a bath and some new clothes to even be considered worthy of being in her presence. She took the handkerchief, managing a sheepish grin, a colour painted her cheeks. Words, she needed to find words again.

"Something like that, yeah,"
she replied, wiping her face and hands. She wanted the ground to swallow her. She followed the blue-eyed gaze back down to the sparring, then snapped her neck so fast back to her at the question. It was a wonder she wouldn't get whiplash. "Who me? Against them?" A sharp bark of laughter escaped her before words came tumbling out of her "Nah, I mean yeah, but like it's nice here, and I don't want to be pulverised just yet you know, they have armour and I don't, and it's not that I can't fight, because I have fought before but I don't pick figths I can't win because thats how you end up dead although there was this one time back on Taris where I did and this guy was like, three times my size, knocked me clean out broke my jaw an' everything and i like living so...." she paused realising she hadn't breathed yet before blurting "you'rereallypretty."

Telula Vale Telula Vale Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel Ferris Skirata Ferris Skirata Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida
 
More had joined the conversation a scant distance away and Adelle idly glanced back to see who was in her vicinity. A male human, also a child, and a rather pretty looking woman around her age, if she had to guess--and she absolutely was guessing--walked into the stands. The woman wore no armor but a cowled tunic and the familiarity of such dress eased some of the anxiety at being in an entirely new place.
"No interest in participating?"
Adelle opened her mouth to say something but then one of the young girls--no armor, rough clothes, uncertainty radiating off her probably as much as anxiety rolled off Adelle--started to talk at a breathless pace.
"you'rereallypretty."
Adelle laughed sharply, and tried to hide it by pretending to cough. Gods, the brash and uncertain honesty felt good after all the tension she'd had about learning to be Mandalorian. Like an unexpected joke disarming a standoff. Granted, that was a comment she'd gone for a while without hearing: old scars from a clawed gauntlet tore through the left side of her face from temple to jaw, making for a fierce look rather than pretty. She wasn't jealous of the white-haired woman being called that but it had been a very long time. Adelle relaxed and turned her mismatched gaze back towards the group.

"Your problem's not your size and no armor," she said. "It's lack of experience. I'd offer a demonstration but I'm trying to get used to the armor."

She nodded up at the tall woman ( Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida ) that seemed possessed of herself, that felt like she belonged here, supervising people. "I'm sure she could teach you something."


Rynna Rynna | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Telula Vale Telula Vale | Ferris Skirata Ferris Skirata | Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi
 
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Runi turned slowly from the arena to look back at a young woman with her hand awkwardly raised. "You are always in the right place, Ad be Ka'ne. The only question you need concern yourself is why." The Shaman gave Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi a small smile as she extended a hand back toward her. There was no need for her to hang back or give Runi space. The young were especially cautious not to offend someone of her 'rank' in the Empire, but Runi was too old to be worried about such things. "I am Runi. And you?"

Another sought to step by them as they spoke. Their quiet announcement of their presence to excuse their passing drew Runi's eye long enough for her to nod in acknowledgement. Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel seemed to have a path before her feet, if not a fire to her step. One in search of something, perhaps.

Telula Vale Telula Vale approached the hungry Rynna Rynna that had thought to loiter a little nearer Rowan and Runi. She even called to Adelle seated not far from them. For the moment, the Shaman paid them no mind out of courtesy. At least that had been the intent to allow for introductions, when but suddenly Ferris Skirata Ferris Skirata gave an uncertain if none too weak call for affirmation.

That's when Adelle drew attention to Runi and the Shaman chuckled quietly to herself. "You might grow more comfortable in the armor, if your hand held a blade in the arena." Some thought to get comfortable slowly. That wasn't wrong, but the pace allowed the mind to fixate. To notice the little things. So long as the armor fit, the little things -- how odd it felt in a new suit -- weren't important. A fight help take one's mind off such things, or perhaps even discover serious flaws in the fit or design.

"What do you see standing here?" her hazel eyes slowly moved among those near by curious which might respond, and how.


 




Some time had passed since Torva had joined the Mand’alor, taking her first steps into a fresh start in her new life under his watchful eye and patient guidance. Her days had been filled with learning and growth, and though her body had mostly healed except for some scars, some wounds still remained in her mind and spirit. Nightmares plagued her, memories of the fires that raged across Ketaris, and the screams of her family as the flames consumed them. But despite the pain that lingered, the young red head did her best to move forward and grow. Learning about the Mandalorians and their culture was a challenge, one she faced with determination and curiosity. Her greatest challenge had been assimilation; when she accepted the Mand’alor’s offer, she had made the decision to step away from her old life and embrace a new one…that of the Mandalorian. But leaving her old ways behind her and embracing a whole new culture as her own was hard.

So when she was given the opportunity to travel to Yavin IV and connect with others and learn more about who she was to be now, she only hesitated for a moment before agreeing to go. She was still somewhat shy around new faces, and it was difficult for her to open up and trust others, but Torva knew that the only way she could work on that…was if she mingled with others. She was hoping that travelling to Yavin would do that for her.

Upon arrival, she could feel that there was something different about the place, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It was like a buzzing in the back of her mind, the sense of something ancient and ever present - and it only grew stronger as she approached the old looking temple. Something about the place felt…special, peaceful even. Like it was a sanctuary that whispered of spiritual rest and rejuvenation, as well as mysteries that could be discovered if one knew where to look.

Torva ascended the steps and slipped silently into the temple itself, her bright blue eyes touching every sight she could see. She walked down a hall as quietly as she could, simply taking in everything as she went. She had no idea where she was going, and at first she didn’t see anyone though she knew there were others around.

Soon, the sound of noise filtered into her ears…the distinctive sound of sparring and voices. Cautiously, Torva followed the sounds, her heart rate accelerating at the idea of interacting with others whom she didn’t know. It took a lot of courage to keep moving forward, curiosity driving her onward. Eventually she stepped from the hall and into a large space that held an arena of sorts. Others had already gathered here, men and women of various ages and backgrounds. Torva paused at the edge and leaned against a wall that was partially bathed in shadow, crossing her arms over the durasteel beskar’gam that she was still getting used to, as she watched from the outside.

Another young woman, just a couple of years younger than she was, appeared and hesitantly asked if she was in the right place…and that she was new to all of ‘this’ too. Relief and curiosity brightened Torva’s cerulean blue eyes; she wasn’t the only one here who was new to this way of life. An older woman addressed the girl, and Torva picked up the name Runi as she passively eavesdropped on their interaction.

She observed the others that were around, some engaging in conversation and others simply doing what she was doing - take it all in, and others tested themselves against one another. For the moment Torva remained where she was, not moving to engage others but not leaving either.



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That's when Adelle drew attention to Runi and the Shaman chuckled quietly to herself. "You might grow more comfortable in the armor, if your hand held a blade in the arena." Some thought to get comfortable slowly. That wasn't wrong, but the pace allowed the mind to fixate. To notice the little things. So long as the armor fit, the little things -- how odd it felt in a new suit -- weren't important. A fight help take one's mind off such things, or perhaps even discover serious flaws in the fit or design.

"What do you see standing here?" her hazel eyes slowly moved among those near by curious which might respond, and how.
The woman spoke like a teacher that had done this for a while and Adelle didn't bother to hide the slight grimace when she mentioned actually getting into the arena. She should have known that was going to be said, she'd been in a teaching environment as student and teacher before. Of course that's what would actually help in getting accustomed to the beskar'gam. Adelle swallowed the groan, swallowed the excuses about not having a sparring partner, and picked up her helm. While she might not have a sparring partner yet, she could at least run through drills on the sidelines, with either the practice weapons or go through the hand-to-hand drills.

But the instructor's--surely she was an instructor--question asked for an answer.

"I see the footwork," Adelle said slowly. As an ex-Jedi, she still wasn't too sure of her place among the Mandalorian culture, cin vhetin not withstanding. "The drills, the dance, or ebb and flow of combat. Iron sharpening iron."

She inclined her head towards the taller woman--fething hells, Adelle was supposed to be average height but even the children grew taller than her here--and started to make her way down the stands towards the arena as another Mando joined the small gathering. The only way she knew to learn how to swim was to get in the water.


Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Rynna Rynna | Ferris Skirata Ferris Skirata | Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi | Torva Vikar Torva Vikar
 
Location: Yavin IV
Outfit: Nightsister Outfit
Equipment: Lightsaber, Ichor Sword, Dathomir Energy Bow
Companion: Grisial
Tag: Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Rowan Drysi Rowan Drysi | Rynna Rynna | Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel | Telula Vale Telula Vale | Ferris Skirata Ferris Skirata

The witch arrived to Yavin IV without much issue. She didn't make a show of her presence and for the most part had stuck to investigating the former Jedi and Sith ruins of the moon. It was an interesting location since it held memories of both the light and dark, both being very strong presences at one point in history on this location. This was something she had seen on Coruscant and there was no doubt that there were going to be other locations where the Sith usurped a Jedi location or the vice versa and what interested Dreidi the most was how this affected the surrounding beings and nature. Sometimes the Dark Side influenced and corrupted nature, other times it did not.

Hearing a discussion and seeing people gathering, Dreidi could sense that they were not typical Force Users. They were likely Mandalorians with some connection to the Force in one way or another. The witch was intrigued in how the training would be conducted. While she lived in Mandalorian space, while her homeworld was one that apparently holds a personal connection to the current Manda'lor. Dreidi did not look like a Mandalorian. She wore no armour. She was still very much a Dathomiri Witch, not caring how much it might make others uncomfortable or superstitious around her. Hearing that the child had learned how to select fights that were based on whether or not she could win, it was something many street kids picked up on.

But it was a limiting mindset to have since reality was rarely going to allow a fight to be evenly matched or have the odds in your favour.

"Size and strength is not everything. Neither is armour. I never wear armour and not dead yet." Dreidi chuckled softly as she allowed her voice to be the introduction of her presence to the group. "It is knowing where your skills lay and then building upon them so that you are the best version of yourself in a fight." Dreidi stated as she kept on the edge of the group not wishing to overstep or invade the conversation too much.
 

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