Training Day

[Kascalion Giedfield]

***Location: The Emperor's Citadel, Dromund Kaas.
Objective: Train the Acolyte
Star Date: c. 858
Allies: [member="Jason Octavian"]
Enemies: None***

The battle of Kashyyyk had done its damage to the Devil Lion. Where the was once pristine, ashen skin, scarred flesh and charred bones reattached by numerous kolto tanks and surgeries quivered and grimaced. Kascalion examined the extent of these injuries in a despondent, almost apathetic silence, his dual colored eyes glaring at his reflection in the mirror. His fingers ran over the wounds like one would run their hands through the hair of a lover, attempting to feel some emotion towards the weeks old wounds, but there was nothing. Nothing beyond their physical texture. The scars felt calloused like burnt leather that was stretched beyond its limit and stretched again. He was grateful the smell of smoked meat had dissipated at the very least.

Sighing heavily, the Devil Lion rose from his chair and placed his new mask, painted bone-white and crafted out of cortosis, over his face before pulling up the hood of his new vantablack armored-robes. These robes were either gifted to him for his position within the Eldar Clan of Sith-Mandalorians, or gifted in return to his own gift to the clan leader and actions during the takeover of Mandalore. He could not remember the exact details of his acquisition of this equipment and grunted in irritation as his mind fogged over. Regardless, he was "joyous" to own it.

Constructed out of armorweave with Beskar plating, the robes were designed to both intimidate and protect, with layers of black painted Beskar laying over his chest, waist, thighs, arms, and back with intricately carved red runes and lines running along the metal like anthills and rivers. Kascalion wondered if the man he was to encounter in the coming minutes would be intimidated, awe inspired, both, or neither.

Alongside this new armor, now hooked onto his sides, were two curve-handled lightsabers with spiked pommels made out of songsteel. These were his replacements following his humiliation at the hands of Cotan Sar'andor. Additionally, holstered under the robes on either side, were two exceptionally large blaster pistols that many could have mistaken for shotguns. The exact design model of these blaster pistols was uncertain, but given the similarities, most believed they were heavily modified WESTAR-35s.

Kascalion gave himself a curt nod in the mirror before turning and leaving the room, the doors opening and closing with loud hisses. He was to train a man that day, an acolyte, his new apprentice. Jason Octavian. A wild man, if the overseers from Korriban were to be believed, angry and bitter. Luckily for the Ashen Devil, he had great experience with people like this in no small part due to his sibling, Lorale. He would begin by humbling this man, showing him the power disparity and what he could achieve, and then train his skills in combat. By doing so, he would also further hone his own abilities in Jar'Kai, although he was already proficient enough to be considered above-average, fortunately. The effects of centuries of living and studying. Studying. That reminds me. I must also train him in the way of thought and mind.

If he was lucky enough to do so, that is.

 

[Jason Mason]

It has worked out as he wanted it to. Since becoming a acolyte of the Sith Empire, he had been trying to show his skills by beating down physically weaker acolytes. Sure his skills with the Force were lack luster but now he could eat properly and allow himself to fill out his physical strength has almost doubled. Allowing him to handle his enemies by brute force. The only skill he has right now, looking down to his blade, a standard one that was given to him by the Empire. It's slick design was simple and easy to use, which was why he been able to handle it so well.

But the Sith that summoned him was called the Devil Lion, which from the information he was a giant man. So Jason had prepared himself, in a simple gray tunic, and black pants with a Obi belt keeping the outfit look clean and simple. No doubt Jason's new master would want to show some sort of dominance to establish the relationship. Something his old master did, as a way to make sure the slaves didn't try to fight back. Still, Jason knew there was a difference, when he was a slave there was no expect gain for him but now he was a Sith things are different. He was expected to grow and become stronger, to one day challenge his master for dominance. Despite it being close being a slave, he knew better and he was excited. It was far better for him to work under a Sith so that he could gain the benefits of having someone higher up on his side.

Jason walked through the Citadel of Dromund Kaas feeling the dark power being led by a guard to his new master. There was no doubt as he walked down this hallway that any action he took that stepped out of bounds would end his life. The Sith was a organization of strength and hierarchy, and right now he is at the bottom.

Without speaking the guard continue to lead him in silence, Jason was fine with this since it gave him time to prepare himself for whatever happened. But the longer he walked the angry he got, despite him wishing to gain power in this system, he knew it was the cause for the death of his family. Yet even with that rage his darkness inside him was just a small pool compared to the evil he can feel in the Citadel.

[member="Kascalion Giedfield"]

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Kascalion cracked his shoulders in anticipation for the arrival of his trainee. If the rage headed towards his direction was any indicator, the validity of the overseers' claims was high. It was an untempered rage, an anger towards something the Devil Lion could not identify, yet desired to know. He needed to know. This cause for such fury was key to the future training sessions with this boy, for only that knowledge would allow Kascalion to properly hone the wrath of a possible key player in the wars to come.

The Devil Lion adjusted his mask as he began to pace around the arena he had reserved for this occasion. It was a nearly pitch black room with only lights dimly illuminating the center of the structure. A floor of black stone marked the location for most dueling, but various pit falls and leverages would allow for more acrobatic or ranged attacks. Doors lined the walls, doors that led to the many beast pens that the Emperor had acquired for the prisoners below, and doors that lead to the gladiatorial suites where men and women would arm themselves for death.

Jason Octavian would not have this luxury. He would be allowed two pristine vibroswords, one for single blade combat styles, one as a spare blade, or both for two bladed combat. The choice would be up to the newblood for this training day. Kascalion himself would fight with both of his lightsabers, but fall back to Makashi should he be disarmed of one and fall back to his blasters should he be disarmed of both or desire to teach the boy the dangers of ranged attacks this early.

The doors of the arena suddenly slid open with a hiss, taking Kascalion's attention away from the plan and his surroundings and over to the two new figures: a guard and Jason Octavian. He was well built and held clear power in his arms and legs, but perhaps too innocent looking in the facial area. His training with the Ashen Devil would change that very quickly.

"Thank you, Guardsman, that will be all," Kascalion suddenly spoke, his once thunderous, ethereal voice now a ragged, hoarse echo. The guard would bow and leave the boy to his fate as Kascalion began pacing back and forth with methodical steps and purpose. "Tell me, boy...tell me your name...tell me who you are and what you seek to accomplish. Tell me why you are not but a lowly slave who should would have been better left dead in the sands of Korriban?"

[member="Jason Octavian"]​