Training the new guy (Ask)

[Mr. Teatime]

Arcturus, armored as usual, stepped through the open door of a training room. He didn't bring his sword, only his staff lightsaber, the emitters now enameled with a single ring of Electrum each to mark him as a Darth of the Empire. He took long, smooth strides towards the wall opposite the door, turned back towards the door and, with his arms behind his back, waited for the student eh had agreed to teach to arrive. He was due in six minutes. Arcturus very much hoped he wouldn't be late. That would be disappointing.

Unlike many other acolytes who requested training, this one was 'very' new, having undergone no training whatsoever previously. Arcturus looked forward to seeing what he could do.

(OOC: Short post, but I'm tired as hell and distracted. Subsequent posts should be more impressive.)

 

[Korps]

Varrick hurried along the ornate hallways of the grand temple, at once awestruck by the power it represented and covetous of the power wielded by those who had commanded its construction. There would be a day when he too held mastery over such forces to command men and machines to do as he wished, when he wished. That was why he was here: power. Long had he felt a victim of his own life, of the desires of others, of the pressures of society, but now he saw the chance to be as he truly was. "The Force shall set me free..." he whispered to himself as he rounded the last corner. It had been one of the first things he had learned of the Sith, and since that day it had become a mantra in his head.

As he entered the room - almost a full minute early - he saw the figure before him for the first time, and nearly stumbled in awe. It wasn't the way the figure looked, but rather how he felt. Never before had Varrick witnessed a being who emanated such power and control. Here, at last, was an incarnation of everything Varrick sought after.

At first he wasn't sure what to do. In the texts he had read there was no reference to proper greetings or formal introductions. Sure, there were plenty of examples of fools who had been cut down immediately for offending one of the Darths, but no guide as to how to avoid doing so. The importance of such information had not struck Varrick as important until this moment. Without guidance, he chose to rely on instinct and feeling, knowing at least that such things were central to the Sith ways. Bowing low, he kept his eyes locked on the dark figure before him, careful to avoid looking the Sith in the eyes, but maintaining a stance which was at once deferential and respectful, but also cautious and wary. Although the man had not introduced himself, Varrick knew he could only be the master he had searched for, "My master..."

 

[Mr. Teatime]

A tall shadow against a dark wall, Arcturus looked over the acolyte before him. He was tall, as Arcturus was, but still soft. Unmolded. Dull. Arcturus intended to be the craftsman to mold him into something useful, assuming he didn't break. His training methods would not be orthodox, nor would they be easy. But if they were fruitful, this Acolyte would no doubt be kept from the bottom rungs of the Empire.

Arcturus took two steps forward, and gestured slightly. "I am not your master. I am your teacher, and you are my student, until I deem it otherwise." For a Sith, Arcturus seemed to have an air of remarkable calm. His aura, though dark, held no feeling of 'taint', nor of burning anger. It was cool and icy, like roiling winter stormclouds. No rage pushed at the surface, but there was clearly power lurking beneath that calm surface.

He raised a hand and gestured around them. And as he did, lights lit up the dim room, revealing the rest of the room. Carved in stone by machines and the hands of Imperial workers, the room quite resembled a natural cavern, save for the rectangular shape. A closed door lead outside into the cold, and another into a room with no visible windows. The rest of the room was dominated by irregular formations of stone, a variety of what could be safely assumed to be training instruments, and bits of technology. "You are one of our newest hopefuls, correct? Before we begin, know this. We are not merely Sith. We are agents of the Empire, Guardians of it's citizens, and keepers of order. Some Sith believe they should serve only themselves, and no other, seeking nothing but power for themselves." He paused, both for dramatic effect and to let the information sink in. "But there are many types of power, and many roads that lead to them. Knowledge, physical, personal, authoritative. Power is never merely 'power'. However... Before one can master their environment, one must master themselves. So..." He stood up straight and placed his arms behind his back.

"Tell me of you. What can you do?"

 

[Korps]

Varrick was impressed. Upon reflection, he wasn't sure exactly what he had expected from his first meeting with a true Sith, but whatever it might have been, the man before him surpassed. More than anything, it was the way absolute control permeated everything he did; his movements, his tone, his choice of words, all very precise.

The young acolyte considered what he was being taught: that the Sith were agents of something greater. This definitely went against many of the readings Varrick had found during his search for greater knowledge, but then again, most of those dated to centuries and millennia in the past, so it would stand to reason that this newest breed of Sith would not adhere to antiquated beliefs. Still, the notion gave Varrick pause, and he made a note to take the time to consider such a viewpoint in due time.

The question posed to him did not catch him off guard, but he was still unprepared for it. He knew that he had the potential, that, given time and training, he could wield the force like a weapon, but his lack of experience and relative ignorance in such things made him rather... inept for the moment. Standing tall, determined not to show weakness or despair, Varrick answered honestly, "I can feel some things just before they happen, and I have been able to move some small objects without touching them. Beyond that, I have yet to attempt, or to be shown."

 

[Mr. Teatime]

"Good. That is a start." His head tilted slightly left, examining the acolyte before him. "Before we begin, I will pose to you a series of questions. Answer them honestly, with whatever knowledge you have available to you." He turned smoothly to his left, and walked towards a nearby weapons rack. Picking up a small, sith-engraved hammer, he turned back to the Acolyte and tossed it to him underhand with the intention that he catch it. "What is a weapon?" A broad question. Some might even find it an odd, foolish question. But this was all a part of Arcturus' teaching method. Philosophy and detailed thinking. At it's core, what was a weapon?

Arcturus was hoping he would give it thought before answering.

 

[Korps]

Varrick snatched the hammer as it sailed towards him, a bit more clumsily than he would have liked. He had never had much cause to heft a weapon before, so the weight of the engraved hammer threw off his catch. He spun it a moment in his grip, feeling the balance of it. Again, his unfamiliarity with such weapons (or tools, for that matter) rendered him a poor judge for its quality. Yet as he did, he pondered the question asked of him. The Sith, so he had read, were not famed for the patience, and so Varrick let his mind race to find an answer before his instructor became displeased.

"A weapon... is a tool," he began at length. "It is something that, without a wielder, is nothing. Its purpose and function are what its master wills it.

"This hammer," he lifted the weapon to take closely inspect the fine markings upon it, "is as much a tool to build as it is to destroy; only will defines it. It can be used to break the skull of a victim, or merely to threaten such, and thus ensure obedience.

"It possesses a quality of its own, but without competence or skill on the part of the master, it is no more effective than a rock. Therein lies the danger of the weapon: without the will or the skill to wield it, it becomes little more than a liability and a weight to whoever holds it." For the first time since he had entered the sanctum, Varrick's eyes burned with intensity. "I would learn to wield it, as I would all weapons."

 

[Mr. Teatime]

"Precisely. The Force, like that hammer, is a weapon. But it is also a tool with many applications. I have found it is most effective when focused inwards, instead of thrown haphazardly about like a stone." Arcturus was referring to a type of specialized training he underwent that combined meditation and movement, strengthening the user's ability to use the force and attuning their body. Arcturus had taken this route because of how his body interacted with the force, but hypothetically, anyone could do it to some degree. "That viewpoint is a key to the training you will undertake. One cannot truly master the hammer," He indicated the one Varrick was holding. "Without first mastering his body. You must know how to wield oneself before you wield things outside your direct control."

He walked over to the exit to the frozen wastes of Ziost. "Do you have experience in meditation?"

 

[Korps]

Varrick cocked his head slightly at the newest question. "No, my lord. The texts I have found speak of meditation as primarily a Jedi technique, and thus I have had little cause to explore it." Although, now that he actually gave it some though, it made some sense; for the Jedi, meditation was about studying the world beyond themselves, but for a Sith, it presented an opportunity to access and study what lay within.

"Is there a particular technique?"

 

[Mr. Teatime]

"To truly master the self, one must balance the physical and the spiritual. We will be practicing a form of meditative martial arts. Moving meditation. With it, you will focus on what drives you, let it suffuse your form, and begin. For the moment, let us focus on the former." He stood as straight as ever, examining his student. Arcturus' focus was different than most Sith, but it should work the same either way.

(short, sorry)

 

[Korps]

Varrick nodded and the simple yet profound wisdom of balance. It made sense from what had read, that in lightsaber combat, one's ability to command the Force was ultimately as much a factor in determining the victor as mastering the weapon itself; it only stood to reason that mastery of Force would be an effort in both inner and outer control. However, this did not change the inexperience of the acolyte, nor his lack of knowledge in the subject.

"I understand. Where does one begin?" he said eagerly.

 

[Mr. Teatime]

"The art will start simple. First, concentrate on your focus. Channel it inwards. Into muscle, bone, sinew. Charge your flesh with power." He waved a hand towards one of the many human-height stone pillars. "Face the stone." he himself turned towards a second and and entered a stance, with intention for his student to copy it. It was a basic stance, easy to memorize. Right hand loose at stomach level, left hand palm forward at chest level, further forward. "Your motion must flow, regardless of the energy within." Both arms withdrew, sliding back, left arm drawing across the chest, hand facing sideways now, rocking his whole body back, only to then slowly move forward again. Excruciatingly slow.

There was no effect on the air, or the stone before him. But anyone who could sense with the Force could see the barest hint of the furnace that burned beneath the surface. By it's nature, most of the energy was undetectable, save for that within the skin. He began the motion again, this time, after drawing back, he pushed forward with effort. His forward knee bent forward more than previous, and his left palm struck forward, appearing to strike the stone with moderate force. A small flare in force energy, and the stone cracked into many pieces, collapsing downwards. "Precise control."

 

[Korps]

Varrick watched silently, in quiet awe of the power which he began to feel encircle the Sith. He marveled at the deep control, the absolute precision, the sheer power. Here is what he had come to find. For a moment he was struck by the foolishness of the Jedi teachings; while it was true that he had read little of their ways, he knew that the most central tenant was to feel the Force beyond the individual - to focus on the external. Such fools would never know the power and control Varrick saw now, they would never be capable of truly unleashing themselves and mastering the unlimited power the Force represented.

Stepping further into the room, Varrick stood before one of the stone pillars and adopted a stance like that of the Sith teacher. He kept glancing to the marauder, making minute adjustments to his posture until he was certain that his form matched, before closing his eyes. He wanted to ensure that what he did now was focused exclusively on within, and to that end he tried as best he could to shut out the world beyond himself. He felt his own heartbeat, the steady intake of breath, and the gentle touch of the Force upon him.

When next he drew breath, so too did he begin to move the same pattern he had witnessed, drawing upon the Force as he did so. At first he felt little change, and so, as he teacher had said, he slowed down further. Then, gradually, he felt the motions take hold, and the Force grew within him. It felt like a furnace warming up - a source of great power just beginning, as yet without an outlet for its potential. He almost lost control of it in his excitement, but he quickly refocused himself, and set about to turn the energy he felt within to his own purpose.

Continuing the motions, he slowly began to reach out, becoming aware of the pillar before him in a way he had not before known. He could not see it, could not touch it, but he could feel it, and in so doing he knew it better than he could ever have before. He felt along its imperfections until his mind came to rest upon a small crack in the stone. There he focused, he body still moving incredibly slowly as he tried to control every aspect of the Force within him. As his hand reached out again, he used it as a focus, and willed the Force within him to flow through out.

He quickly found that the energy, while under his control while within, was more... turbulent in the world beyond himself, and so did not follow as he would have liked as it left him. He tried to control it, but in so doing he lost the focus on himself, and the motions became irregular. He panicked at the lack of control, and as he did, he felt the Force leave him.

He opened his eyes, frustrated at his apparent failure, but when he looked upon the pillar he saw that the crack he had felt was now a fissure that spread across the face of the pillar. He couldn't help but smile.