Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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To Tame Warriors

A block of wood lay in his lap
While Masamune slowly carved.
Bit by bit the block took shape, a tap
And the shavings fell to the floor.

A swordsmith he was, and famed
This was true, though blades
And swords that tought without shame
Was how the bladesman trained pupils.

A wooden bokken his students used
Though in combat a true blade was preferred.
To meld art and soul, together fused,
Among enemies was only possible without blood.

For this purpose did he hold
The beginnings of a wooden blade
And had called upon a student bold
In the ways of Force, Honor, and Sword.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

"What you require of me, Masamune,
Is well within my skill, though I admit
I have not tried it yet. And for this goal,
The gifting of humility unasked,
I can bestow what time and gifts are mine,
Bleed into this grand project, and
Find ways for you to grant humility.
The alchemy of wood is theory, true,
But at my level, even wood and bone
Can now aspire to sabre-foiling strength.
The shaping of the sword is up to you;
I shall attempt its balance to preserve
Throughout the process, and ideal weight."
 
"An attempt is all I dare ask
For a tool such as this.
You are suited to this task,
As I well know, and so I have called.

The wood is taking shape, slowly
A bokken shall be discerned.
Two I shall make of such apparent lowly
Blades that even the mightiest shall humble.

Without it shall be oak of simple design
But within shall lie the key.
Paddle beamers, if my old mind
Names them correctly.

A simple rod of thin wrought steel
Set with such things will rest inside.
Upon a strike, even the mightiest shall feel
The simple strike of wooden sword.

Alchemical mastery with which you are skilled
Shall keep the wood intact from harm
While keeping the wielder from being killed
In even the harshest of fires.

Take up another block, child.
Carve it, work it, sand it down.
Make another bokken from wild
Oak and aid the task in flowing quickly."

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

"The paddle beamers I can offer you,
As one that paid a requisite harsh price
To conquer and subdue the wild Ssi-Ruuk
And claim their most bizarre technology.
Within my starship, I have more than one.
I'll get them when the sanding part is done."

She watched his hands upon the sanding block
And duplicated how he worked the oak.
A bokken, subtly curved, took shape and form.
 
"One focuses on the forge so much
One forgets the simple pleasures.
Wood beneath working hands such
As here and now or a quiet cup of tea.

To know life in each breath,
Life in every drop of rain.
Life in every loss, every death,
Whether mandated by heaven or our hands.

One must find comfort in things
Of simplicity and calm
Lest we find what lack of balance brings
To soul and mind and body alike."

As he spoke his tools rasped
Upon wood beneath his hands.
Slowly but surely, within his grasp,
The bokken's final touches emerged.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

Few scents could match the warmth of fresh-cut oak
The sweetness of its shavings and sawdust
Sparked hunger and appreciation mixed.
Oak finished soft, to fingers or cheek's touch,
But hard against impact or brutal scar.
She took far longer than Masamune
To make the bokken, careful but not sure
In all her movements. She compared his sword
To that which now took shape within the oak.

Now laying it aside, she compared both,
And found herself well-pleased with the result.
She took up active meditation now,
Beginning expert alchemy to use.
 
The work now done, he sat
Across from the bold Rave Merrill.
He could feel her focus that
Upon the wood her mind directed.

Quietly, calmly, he leant
His own focus two hers.
Towards her task his focus bent
To add his power to her alchemy.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

It cost him, she suspected, and she flinched
To feel his contact with alchemic force.
His soul had balance, unlike alchemy;
Contributing might throw that balance off.
But Rave could respect curiosity,
And as she tried to alchemize the wood
She drew upon his strength while filtering
The processes she used, to ward his soul
From all the truest elements of art
She'd gleaned from Nightsisters and holocrons
And sacrifice of blood and soul and fire.
He did not need to know how far she'd gone.
He thought he knew, but some things needed sight,
And not imagination. Impure ores
And metals could be smoothed away, but oak
Had structure all its own, requiring Rave
To focus deeper, more consistently,
Than any sword she'd made but Entropy.
 
He felt her draw upon him,
Of his strength and balance
Within the Force, though whether whim
Or choice he could not 'see'
The further steps she took
In the creation of the bokken.
He felt her fill every nook
And cranny of the wood with her
Essence to leave much, but took
Nothing except to alter the matter itself.

Why she blocked his sight
From the deeper recesses of
Her workings he might
Discover some day, but for now
He knew that for whatever reason
She felt it necessary to hide such things.
Masamune understood, as patient as seasons'
Passing that only time might reveal such things.

He felt her caution as his power rose
To aid her in her working and
Understood the complexity therein, those
Fragile touches and filaments of the Force.
Instead he changed his direction
And instead of placing the Force in her hands
Instead focused it, a tool for correction
Or added strength should she require.

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

Now in straightforward work, her courage grew
She did not fear to show her face to him
The true self that she kept concealed from all
The sacrifices and ambition dark
That spurred all she achieved in alchemy
The blood so freely spilt, and sins both dire
And purpose-driven, for she knew the cost
Of reaching for such heights -- what depth she plumbed
And what depravity -- but tallied up,
The cost she'd paid alone and uncoerced
Was to her mind sufficient for the goal
And fitted to the grandeur and the pain
That went into her projects, one by one
An alchemist took craft seriously
Or made no worthy thing of quality

"You start to understand," she said, and paused
As with his strength she alchemized the oak
"You feel the lives I've guided to their end
The horrors that my art can perpetrate
You see a little now of what I am
I cannot work with you unless you know
And now I fear we cannot work at all
For I am not the kind of smith or girl
With which a man respectable as you
Should ever collude or associate."
 
"Life in every breath, in each cup of tea,
In every life we take in war and peace.
Such is the way of Bushido, you see,"
Masamune said calmly and quietly.

"Who I keep company with is my
Choice and none others'.
You intrigue and fascinate me, which is why
I enjoy your company immensely.

Your skill with forging is superb
And your knowledge of the Force is extensive.
I have never, to my knowledge, heard
Of another with such learning.

The time spent forging with you
I enjoy very much as it gives hope.
Hope that may endure and grow, true
And clear to all around.

The galaxy is a strange place
Where all is both true and untrue.
Where most beings see life as a race
Either against one another or time itself.

I see in you many of the traits
Of the Bushi, of honorable service.
Give not into the snares and bait
Of all around you and peace you shall find.

I see you as a student no longer,
But as a companion, a friend.
A noble cause, not as a stronger
Growing harbinger of doom through works made.

Even the purest of souls
Must come from or find hardship
As time goes on, as the bell tolls.
A lotus flower in the darkest night is still a flower."

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

"But flowers grown in darkness find their root
In poor benighted soil, and fertilize
Themselves on poison and all unclean loams
And when the flow'r is plucked, the with'ring stem
And petals are as pallid and as foul
As spiders' bellies, all with poison spread
That is no bloom to treasure or to smell
Corrupted growth can taint an heirloom seed
Thus nurturance distorts potential growth.
You seek to help me grow in reason's paths
Regardless of the prunings and the soil
Which made me what I am. But you are right-
I have a chance to work with what I have,
To pare away the dead growth and the foul
And find a form of me which I can take
Responsibility for, and adjudge
As worthy of identity and time."
 
"Then let the dead growth fall
From the pruning of the soul.
Prune the length and breadth of the halls
Of the soul until all is clear.

The clippings will, in time, rot away
And return to the ground where
They shall emerge on a new day
To nourish the new, growing spirit within.

Such is the way of things, of Life
And of the Force itself.
The old cycles through decay and strife
Until the new appears, which it then fuels."

Masamune patted the bokken on his lap
And smiled softly, a look of vague humor
Appearing on his features as he sat
With the younger woman as they talked.

"I find the simplest things
Are often the best to use
When thinking upon how life brings
Changes in many ways and forms.

You should come and meditate with me
One day, upon the hill overlooking the valley.
You might find that such an activity may be
Very refreshing to the tired or questioning soul."

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
@[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

She pondered that for all too long a time
Perhaps four days, while bokken-wood took form
Alchemical in every fibre strong
Implanted with her instruments of pride
That he would use to humble Jedi Knights
Instruct them with the cold Ssi-Ruuvi touch
And give them lessons hard, but needed, too
So necessary in this bitter life
She said "I wonder what I would have been
"If I'd been raised a Jedi, right from wrong
Instructed. But I must suppose that choice
When taken from a child as young as I-
It matters little just which way they bend
The child's agency to set their course
And thus commit, before the come of age"

She grimaced, then, and shook her head, confused
Despite herself - "Or I am blind, and see from the outside
"Without experience I'll never have
"I'll never be a Jedi, Masamune
"My curiosity will never slack
"I cannot but regret untaken paths"
She barked a laugh - "but look at me" she said
"I'd fight for good to know what it felt like
"As if acquiring hobbies or hard spice
"Or flying far too close to white-hot stars"
 
"A Jedi's life is a hard one
And frought with perils and
Strict codes nought to be undone,
But as you may see, I am not Jedi.

A code to live by is not
Chosen, at least in the literal
Sense of the word, or bought
Or selected as if at market.

No, a code to live by
Is formed by the one
Who lives it, for why
They do so is only theirs to know.

Do not be what others feel
A Jedi must be, Rave.
Do not feel obliged to deal
Your beliefs for something as such.

Instead, be what you set
Out to become, what you desire
To be and do not let
Such things blind you.

As a Jedi you would
Do great and wonderful things
As I believe you could
Do so were you raised as one.

As a soldier or wife
Or inventor or peacemaker
You will do, in such a life,
Wonderful things as well.

It is not the destination, you see,
But the path itself that allows you
To create and do and make and be
Such wondrous, magnificent things.

I have chosen a life
Of service for myself.
To protect those in strife
And the innocent from harm.

To devote myself to the ways
Of the sword and of the protector
No matter how harsh the days
May come or the danger to my life.

It is a harsh cause, but just
I feel, to dedicate a soul to such a thing.
Such is not the way of all, and all must
Chose their way, Rave.

Right and wrong are not taught,
They are learned in life.
Life is rampant and frought
With choices we all must make.

From these choices we learn
Good from Evil and Light from Dark
And how to maintain the balance, no matter how we yearn
For one to overtake the other.

All life is balance, you see.
Without Light, there is no dark.
For there to truly be
Dark, there must be Light.

Good cannot exist without an
Evil to balance against,
Just as Evil cannot truly ban
Good for without one, the other does not exist.

Experience as you have been
The life you lead and reflect
On where it has taken you, what you have seen,
And let your codes and ethics... emerge on their own."

@[member="Rave Merrill"]
 
[member="Masamune Tametomo"]

A further twelve days overcame her qualms
And, listening to all he had to say,
Accepting it as one of many ways
Which held some value, Rave began to forge
Her own interpretation of her path
Apply new understanding to her steps
She talked with him and gave too much away
Or shared to little - it was hard to say
She tried to hold some back, to walk alone
On unknown paths of ethics newly learned
To conquer mountaintops on her own steam
To comprehend what one must face alone
To find a way to live on her own terms
And still the sword took form; she ne'er forgot
What Masamune had called her here to shape
The bokken took its final form the day
She found a shred of peace in garden walls
She came to him, presented him the sword
That would bestow humility on all
Alchemic wood, and Ssi-Ruuk paddle beams
And every kind of soul-instilled strength
"For you," she said, "and thank you for the chance
"To meditate upon the things you've said
"While making a sword without precedent"
 
"I am honored, child,
For your offering that
Will tame the wild
Hearts found roaming.

But two swords there are,
You seem to have forgotten
That you treated both, neither marred
By time or blade or fire.

The bokken I did craft
I shall give to you, completed.
A blade and haft
Of solid oaken wood.

Use it wisely - Use it well
And use it to tame warriors.
Let neither Heaven nor Hell
Stop you in this endeavor."

Masamune bowed once, then,
And smiled at the woman before him.
Only he could truly ken
What he felt her future held.

"And, above all things, let
The small measure of peace
Found here truly beget
A brighter future for you, Rave.

You are, as always, more
Than welcome to return here
For however long you desire for
My door is eternally open for you, child."

[member="Rave Merrill"]
 

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