Faction Swift as a coursing river... | NJO + friends intro to polearms training

[Rhook Mandragoran]

Spoiler

Chaldea, Near a waterfall in the Bamarre region
Midmorning

Eastern Chaldean yew. It was a softwood cut from coniferous trees that lined the Thunderhead Peninsula. It was strong enough not to break, but fibrous and flexible; light enough not to carry much mass with it. Perfect for training staves. If someone got carried away it would do a whole lot less harm than a quarterstaff of a conventional hardwood -- such things were not toys. They carried the capability to easily break skulls and rupture organs.​

​

Rhook had spent most of the prior day collecting and paring down saplings. This morning he had spent turning those saplings into staves -- turning them, trimming them straight, and then sanding them smooth. Such endeavors of manual labor and craftsmanship were a relaxing task for him, though this time it wasn't strictly pleasure. Now he waited in the quiet rolling meadow he had picked out, the backdrop of a waterfall far enough so that the crashing river didn't drown out communication but close enough that it provided a pleasant ambience.​

​

A wooden pipe was clasped in his lips as he waited for his students to assemble, strands of pleasantly sweet scented smoke drifting from the bowl of the pipe. Along with the scent, exposure to the millaflower burning within induced a pleasant sense of calm. Something Rhook partook in quite deeply as he watched each arrive. There was plenty of space for starships to land, or air speeder taxis from the nearby city.​

​

Rhook spoke as his audience gathered, picking up the bundle of staves and holding it out for each to come by to acquire one.​

"I thank you all for coming. Given recent events - attacks we have sustained - I've seen fit to hold this block of instruction on the combative arts. Today, I will be introducing you to the Diakoptis Form. If you have never heard of it before, you are forgiven. It is an approach to combat I devised nearly a decade ago to address how to put polearms to the best use. We're going to begin by quickly running through how you must use the force in pursuance of this form."​

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He nodded his head off to the right of the body of students. "Those of you that understand how to properly infuse yourself with the Force to enhance your physicality, separate yourselves over there. Everyone else, remain where you are."​

 

[Khefiir]

One of Rhook Mandragoran 's students today was a fellow NJO combat instructor, here to broaden his pedagogical horizons. Khefiir promptly went over to stand with those who knew how to enhance their strength, speed, and endurance. Splitting the class like this was, in his estimation, an excellent idea when using quarterstaves. He also appreciated that the training staves had enough mass to be realistic, but were clearly not a more serious, unyielding hardwood. These would have been points in Mandragoran's favour even if his Force shield hadn't saved Khefiir's life during a Mandalorian raid.

Sssstaff in hand, Khefiir awaited inssstruction.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

The crazy thing about Jedi was, well, Jedi were crazy.

The Jedi didn't believe in magic and Dathomirians didn't believe in the Force, but it was more than just a religious disagreement. Jedi magic made no sense. At all. Like, at all. They didn't draw on totems. They didn't cast spells. They just did stuff.

But the nice thing about Jedi was that they pretty much offered to share what they knew with anyone they met. That was the opposite of the Witches of Dathomir, where Clan histories were intertwined with sacred mysteries and spells that were safeguarded through the generations, shared only with other members of the Clan. It made the different sects of Witches inherently mistrustful of the others, even before you got into the Book of Law versus Book of Shadows ideological divide.

This was the New Jedi Order tribe, the one that Takui belonged to. Would Taku be here? He'd surprised the Nightbrother by having an interest in the bow, but Jorah didn't know if the man was also interested in the staff as well.

The staff was sacred to his people. Their Zabrak blood brought into Dathomirian society the zhaboka, the bladed staff. It made the staff an important weapon -- particularly for Dathomirian males. Within the Mistwalker Clan, it was expected that a Nightbrother should be proficient.

The boy imagined that there were many ways of wielding a staff, and he only knew the Mistwalker way, which followed the Zabrak traditions passed down to them. It wasn't magical. There wasn't any spell or ritual that he combined with it.

Except the Jedi did?

He did not understand the Jedi. But, perhaps, if he could understand a little of how they wielded the staff then he'd be a step closer.

"Those of you that understand how to properly infuse yourself with the Force to enhance your physicality, separate yourselves over there."​

Infuse yourself with the Force. The Dathomiri's head tilted to one side as he pondered that statement. If the Force was the Jedi word for magic, then how did one infuse themselves with magic?

Pensive, the youth obediently moved to the area indicated for those students who had no idea what the instructor was talking about. Which, was normal for when Jorah attended these things. But, also the point of attending them. That the Jedi afforded one another the courtesy of learning from their different tribes was just another glimpse inside their mysterious ways.

One was even frightening. A beastial figure who seemed more dragon than he was man. The boy kept his eyes downcast so not to stare. He wanted to ask what manner of species that was, but he didn't want to appear rude.

As for himself, whatever the New Jedi Order might have expected of a Silver Jedi student, Jorah was likely not what they imagined, dressed as he was in tribal leathers. His familiar was nearby, enjoying the Chaldean landscape as it darted back and forth in pursuit of bugs or lizards. He had the staff that he had been given for the training in hand. It was freshly made. He could feel the spirit of the wood still warm within it.

Rhook Mandragoran Khefiir​

 

[Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi]

Location: Chaldea, Near a waterfall in the Balmerra province
Gear: Lightsaber

Training sessions was a rarity for me. Most of my time was spent scouring the galaxy, lending my services to those that required a reprieve from the suffering of daily life. The galaxy was in turmoil, more so than ever with the presence of the Dark Side growing nearly unchecked, forming bonds and factions; and now it seemed more corrupt governments. The citizens, the good loyal citizens, needed champions to protect them; and though I have been reminded on several occasions by the Masters that helping them is commendable, it should not define my actions in such a way that it robbed me of my life. Simply stated, as one Master explained to me, that I can't save every citizen in the galaxy; death was a natural order.

Heeding the polite suggestion, I took the effort to come to Chaldea for a training session on the weapon known as polearms. The weapon was unfamiliar to me, which I found odd in lieu of my upbringing prior to joining the Jedi Order. Then again, living in seclusion for most of my earlier years I've come to understand there was much about the galaxy that was unknown and alien to me. I arrived at the predetermined site, near a beautiful and magnificent waterfall and was quickly awed by the view. Seeing water in it's liquid form was one of those remarkable awakenings, something most people take for granted if you didn't grow up on a frozen ice and snow covered planet like myself.

I listened intently to the teacher's instructions, staff held awkwardly in my hand, gauging how much I knew about enhancing my abilities through the Force. Most of my knowledge and abilities surrounding the Force centered on self-defense, opting to master the ways of the lightsaber as my main focus of offensive output. I knew the traditional basics of the Force; telekinesis, persuasion techniques, and so forth. But not so much in elevating my abilities through the Force itself. And I wasn't prideful to think I could overreach my hand, lying to myself and the others possibly that I could fake this well enough just to stand with those that clearly held a strong grasp of enhancing their physical attributes.

So, I remained where I stood.

​

Rhook Mandragoran / Khefiir

 

[Kat Decoria]

Tags: Rhook Mandragoran Khefiir Jorah zos Darnus Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi

Putting on her training outfit, a tight but light attire. She braided her hair into a long ponytail and glanced at her room, her sister had called her to talk to her. Kat had been a little reclusive as of late, dealing with a little of disappointment and low mood that followed that disappointment. Swallowing she looked over to her sister and sighed. "... you can't let this get you down, it sucks but you need to keep your chin up and move forward!" Her sister, Rose, offered a warm smile.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea nonsense. I know but come on, just let me have a couple days of moping around. Look, see I am going outside and interacting with strangers." Kat gestured to her outfit, something her sister picked out for her years ago.

"Sure, sure. But it isn't going out there on a date now, it is." Rose retorted and Kat rolled her eyes and shrugged it off.

"Maybe not, dates can come another time. Got to go, give my love to Lily, byeeeeeee." Kat abruptly hung up before Rose could say anything else.

Looking at the class she signed up for, it was on fighting with staffs and polearms, something that while Kat was very skilled in, she was curious in learning more and seeing if there was something new that she could learn and utilise was always something Kat was interested in. She decided to take a walk to the location and take in the views that were around. She was so use to the Coruscant setting of late that being around nature and breathing in fresh nature air felt entirely different and enjoyable.

As she wandered into the class, looking around and she could spot a few other students and offered them a pleasant smile before looking over to the teacher. She listened and looked over to the right where only one other had moved to, nodding her head, Kat joined the Trandoshan and nodded her head to them. Kat held the staff like an expert in her hands, she looked around the class, curious to see how it progressed.

 

[Viera]

Even though Viera had found a home at the Jakku Enclave, she made sure to keep an ear out on the HoloNet and Jedi Communication channels. The Jedi were vast across the galaxy, whether it be the New Jedi Order, the Silver Jedi or the various smaller groups and enclaves that existed. So when a call was put out for those interested in polearm training, Viera was intrigued.

Her old Master; Allyia, had taught her how to wield and defend against a multitude of different weapon types. The Togruta favouring her double-bladed style more than anything. But it was ultimately something Viera didn’t follow, opting for the classic single blade.

So she was going to be a little rusty, probably.

The Thyrsian used her personal ship, flying from Jakku and to Chaldea. It was a planet she had only heard of, never visited herself. And just looking at the sights below her as she flew over Nezamiyeh, Viera knew she could get lost just exploring.

But the destination was the region of Bamarre, a mountainous area. She followed the directions listed and managed to arrive just in time before the teacher; one Rhook Mandragoran, began the lesson.

Viera had traded her flowing robes for something fitting, more suitable for potential sparring. She even left her signature white cloak behind. Being at the back of the assembled group, Viera couldn’t see many faces. It wasn’t until Rhook called them forth to grab a staff, that she started seeing them. There was only one she recognized though, the towering and unmissable Trandoshan Jedi, Khefiir.

She took a staff, quietly noting the wave of calm that was coming from the Jedi Guardian. Viera walked over to the small gathering that had answered Rhook’s instruction. It barely took a second for her to make that decision. As the one thing her old Master had taught her the most, was Enhance Attribute. Not quite the same as Force Valor, but it was close enough to what the instructor requested.

Viera gave a friendly nod to Khefiir as she approached, taking a spot next to Kat. She looked the woman up and down, immediately refrained from smirking.

An Echani and Thyrsian together in a sparring environment?

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Rhook Mandragoran | Khefiir | Jorah zos Darnus | Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi | Kat Decoria​

 

[Rhook Mandragoran]

Khefiir | Jorah zos Darnus | Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi | Kat Decoria | Viera

Rhook watched with an approving nod, setting the spare staves aside and pinching the briar wood pipe in his lips between a thick finger and thumb contemplatively. After the attendees of the class had separated themselves he spoke once more.
"Good. Now all of you who are experienced at this, seize the force. Let it fill you until your cup runneth over. I want you to be at your maximum capacity from this time forwards." There was no hiding the sadism of Rhook's ploy. If they were confident enough not to receive instruction, then... "As veterans in this technique you can have a head start on what is to come. Ensure that your grip on the Force remains desperate. You are hanging from the edge of a cliff. Your capability will fade as your endurance is tested, but it should not be voluntary. This is not meant to be easy or painless, it is meant to push you. To make you grow."​

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He didn't bother hiding a small smile as he puffed on his pipe, blowing a wisp of smoke out of the corner of his mouth with a breathy chuckle. His eyes turned towards the pair that had identified themselves as being unfamiliar with the process. "As for the both of you, if you would like more in depth instruction on this method I am free to discuss it when we break for lunch. However," he paused, walking closer. He concentrated, pulling the Force inwards, letting it eat away all distractions. Let it sharpen his senses, empower his body, slowly ramping the intensity up until it felt as though his body were a starship at full throttle - yet going nowhere. A torturously contradictory state of being.

"I find it is easiest to learn by experiencing it yourself. Those proficient in the technique are capable of extending it to those around them." He said, closing his eyes and drawing a deep inhale through his nose. As he passed it out of his mouth, a portion of that empowerment seeped from him, investing itself into Jorah and Ro-Tahn. "Accustom yourself to this feeling. This is the state you must bring yourself to utilize the strength, the speed - the power - of the Force as your own." He waited, like a roaring flame igniting subsequent bushfires - spreading this heat and intensity to his two pupils.​

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"Concentrate on how you feel right now. Take ahold of the Force and do your best to maintain this feeling. I'm going to begin withdrawing my assistance. You may not be able to keep all of what I have given you, but keeping any of it is a starting point enough to work from."​

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

As the lesson began, the young Dathomirian appeared to be on the same side of the field as an older, human-looking male.

Leaning his staff against his body, the boy used both hands to bow respectfully toward Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi in the custom of his people -- hands with palms flat against one another as he bowed, then extended outward and opened as one might a book. After he had straightened back up, the Nightbrother repeated the ceremonial gesture toward their instructor, Rhook Mandragoran

Their instructor was impressive. Easily as imposing a presence as any Nightbrother he had ever seen.

Not quite as imposing as a Nightsister. And they were often deceptive. The shorter the Nightsister, the more deadly (or, at least, painful) her presence was likely to be.

As their instructor addressed the other side of the class, the young shaman tried to follow what he said. It was challenging. To start with, Jorah did not speak Basic as his first language, so the metaphor of the cliff was an intriguing exercise in translation. But, beyond the wordplay, there was a fundamental difference in understanding of what the Witch or the Jedi drew upon.

How did one grip that which was intangible?

To the larger question, how did one hold or possess that which was never theirs? A Witch called upon the spirits, but the magic was theirs, and theirs alone, to give. A Witch might shape its effect, but they did not control it. All too often, the reverse was true. The spirits spoke to the Witch or guided the Witch, but the magic was never the Witch's to give or to take. Merely to ask, and try to remember that what they asked would be asked of them three-fold when the spirits asked for their penance in return.

"As for the both of you, if you would like more in depth instruction on this method I am free to discuss it when we break for lunch."​

This was useful information.

Jorah had several questions. To start with, their instructor had said something about a cup? And the cup should be running over? Except Jorah didn't have a cup. And he didn't see anyone else with a cup. Was this another human phrase? It was probably another human phrase.

And then, their instructor did magic.

Or, at least, it felt like magic. Jorah could feel a presence. It was everything that he associated with the Waters of Life, yet there was no spirit ichor. There was no incantation. No scrying. No build up of any kind. Instead, the man seemed to simply take a deep breath, and as he exhaled it was as though he were breathing upon the embers of a fire.

Except that fire was Jorah.

It was every bit as frustrating as he had found Jedi to be. Everything that he knew about how magic worked was completely upended by how the Jedi conducted themselves and their magics. Jorah had no idea what this Force was, but he was all but certain there was a trickster god behind it.

As their instructor withdrew his breath and stepped back toward his other students, the boy could feel the power starting to fade. He tried to recall the instructor's wisdom. To dwell upon the feeling he'd had when the man had exhaled.

It... did not make sense.

"Ci bisi tok. Szi, gakhlita bisi sarosare. Bolo ijika," the Dathomirian remarked softly. It was a mindset often required when around Jedi.
I do not understand. But, understanding is not required. Merely obedience.

 

[Khefiir]

Khefiir returned the friendly nods from Kat Decoria and Viera as they joined him. He offered the same to the students who hadn't joined - Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi and the boy Jorah zos Darnus.

When Rhook Mandragoran told the class to draw heavily on the Force to enhance their strength and speed, Khefiir complied. Pushing yourself to full capacity and sustaining it meant exploring limits. Primarily the limits of the mind, the will to endure a process that required deep focus. Rhook might or might not actually expect perfection, but he did a good job of conveying that expectation.

 

[Kat Decoria]

Someone else was going them, Kat gave a smile to the stranger and a short nod of her head as she turned her head to the teacher. Seemed that they had to use the Force to enhance their skills to the maximum that they could be. Kat wasn't sure about how confident she was in this since most of the time, she tended to enhance the abilities of others, especially to help them heal faster. But the process wasn't too difficult, she breathed in deeply and inhaled the sweet scent of the nature around them and allowed the Force to surround Kat's body and then into her body. She used the Force to enhance her body's endurance and strength, feeling her body pumped and on edge to fight and use all this new energy that was entering her body.

Keeping a firm grip on the staff, she could feel the wood creak as if her grip were any tighter then it would have cracked and broken. It was an amazing feeling having this strength and connection to her body that was completely new to her. Looking at the Master, she was curious to see what was going to be the task of the day, she wanted to do something. Engage in something, perhaps fighting, sparring would be fun and she could really demonstrate her skills. Her skills seemed limitless at the moment, she was pretty that there was no possible way she would feel drained or tired at this moment.

Rhook Mandragoran | Viera | Khefiir | Jorah zos Darnus | Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi

 

[Ro-Tahn Mashayekhi]

Location: Chaldea, Near a waterfall in the Balmerra province
Gear: Lightsaber

Closing my eyes I allowed the Force energy from the instructor filter into my being, allowing for it to entwine itself around my own Force energy. At first it felt nothing short of a barely audible whisper, or a faint brushing of a light breeze, washing around me. Then, without warning, came the loud roaring waves crashing upon me. Using the 'borrowed' energy slowly at first, not wishing to squander the presented opportunity of knowledge, I began to weave the energy like a cocoon; wrapping it around me wholly, until fully immersed in the combination of energies. With a mental deep breath, carefully I released the combined energy back into the Force whilst enhancing my own speed and strength within the Force.

The instructor himself must have noticed the change inside me, cause true to his word he began to withdraw his own force energy; leaving behind a residue upon the surface of my own. Growing more confident, I opened myself up further and felt the change myself. This was, I had to admit, was an amazing feeling. I could understand, though would never delve deep into the darker mysteries of the Force, why Darksiders like the Sith chose to warp the Force in ways they seemed beneficial to power. Pushing such thoughts away, I strengthened my focus on the lesson; griping the wooden weapon tightly.​