The Pupil first knows Honour

[Resolute\\.ZEN]

Ze'kyre waited until almost noon to arrive in the training room. The Padawans who waited for him had filtered in just moments before, and now that he had arrived, he stood in the door way of the room facing the them. He took the sight of each of them in with his friendly, yet slightly off-putting gaze. Before too long, his lips parted in a smile. "Greetings, Padawans. Please forgive my being late. Patience, one of the main Jedi virtues," he said with a small laugh. "I am Ze'kyre Bladedancer." He bowed his head, and allowed them all the opportunity to introduce themselves. He did not wait too long however before removing his sandals and inviting them into the sparring room he had reserved. "Please, no foot-wear in the dojo."

Ze'kyre did not really like being on the Light of the Force. Spending nearly the entirety of the last decade cooped within its hull he had grown somewhat space-sick. Part of him had never entirely grown used to living adrift amongst the stars, and he was always thankful for when his feet were once again stepping upon the resonant warmth of a planet, instead of through the stale air of refresher. Be he had put up with it for so long already, a few days more was nothing.

He had found his way back to the Mobile Temple for its martial training facilities. It offered plenty of space to develop the arts of the lightsaber, and it was within this very room that he had grown intimate with his own indigo blade. But now was not the time to focus on lightsaber technique. There was something a little closer to home for the Echani that he hoped could be used to help rebuild the Jedi. The Jedi Knight stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to them.

"Sit with me,"

He was wearing a smoke grey gi. It was armless, but a white sash was wrapped about his waist. It was really quite nice, lined with a silvery silk, with matching pants that altogether struck as not very Jedi. The Eshan monks had prepared him when sending him from the monastery to train with the Jedi, ensuring he could always represent the other brotherhood he served. It folded well about his midsection as he lowered himself into a lotus position, legs crossed and back straight. The monk interlaced his fingers and rested his wrists upon his thighs.

"Thank you for joining me today, I am very happy to share knowledge of the Echani Arts with my fellow Jedi." In truth, he had been conflicted in making the decision, knowing the clans may not quite approve of his teaching. He knew his brothers of the Eshan Monasteries would understand, however. "In our pursuit of knowledge, we must be willing to face ignorance, so I will be unassuming, and start at the beginning."

"I hail of the echani species. For any who've never heard of my people, there is really one thing you need to know, martial art is the core of eshan nature. I'm not a scientist, I can't explain why, but unlike other human like specie…" this bit was hard to explain, and he took a moment to find the words. "If I were to have brothers, we would all look exactly like our father. Families were always big, since clans were always vying for prestige, and the only way to tell many people apart is through their movement. This allowed the echani to hone an incredible martial sense as they evolved. It was through a lot of careful cultivation of the many developed martial styles, and a strong need to keep the peace after millennia of war and tribal retribution, that the Echani Arts were developed. Seven legendary warriors who brought peace to Eshan through their martial prowess helped maintain it by developing a system of both combat and virtue, used for the clans - as well as every echani - to not only confront one another, but also face themselves."

The echani's dichromatic gaze travelled from soul to soul as he told the tale, but he paused and allowed the story to sink in. He did not want to miss the opportunity to answer a question or clear up anything he had mentioned.

 

[Apocrypha]

"Rorik Grey," he greeted the Echani, inclining his head respectfully. Clad in similarly nonrestrictive garb - a typical Jedi tunic-and-trousers combination - Rorik was prepared in the event that they undergo hands-on training of the Echani arts. His prowess as a duelist was coming along nicely, he was a decent shot with a blaster - when necessary - and he had been taught the rudiments of hand-to-hand combat during his exile; needless to say, he was a respectable combatant, given his status within the Order. He had not, however, been educated by an Echani - had never, in fact, met a member of their combative culture. To be schooled to any degree in the Echani art of hand-to-hand combat was incomparable; a gift of excess value.

The Padawan - ever well-read - had learned of the Echani during his studies at the academy on Coruscant. While this was some thirteen years ago, Rorik had been born with the special feat of retaining an exhaustive library of knowledge in his overcrowded mind, and could recall the brunt of his studies; a proud race of warriors - near-human, some theorized that the Echani were the result of Arkanian experimentation upon human subjects - the Echani were comparable to the Mandalorians, though with a particularly less... violent approach to combat. For the Echani, combat was considered a form of communication; to duel was to speak, sometimes in profound, heartrending tones. As such, protection of the Echani arts by its peoples was tantamount - to have an Echani willingly educated outsiders was unheard of. Rorik respected this sacrifice.

Following Ze'kyre, the Padawan seated himself beside the other students, subconsciously mimicking their tutor's stance - a typical meditative pose, among the Jedi, ferociously drilled into their psyche since their initiate stage - for Rorik, it had been so thoroughly forced upon him that he found himself somewhat uncomfortable seated in chairs.

"Your peoples' martial prowess is known," he spoke up, when Ze'kyre paused; "I remember reading, in the archives on Coruscant, about the Echani Generals, whose knack for predicting their enemies' tactics was legendary - often rumored to be a form of telepathy, among the uninformed."

 

[Intratec]

"Ahrim Cu'seddir." Ahrim greeted after the Padawan in front of him; offering a small bow before taking his own seat. Legs tucked under him in imitation of the Echani sitting across from the arrayed group. Much like his counter-parts, his own clothing style were the same. A simple tunic and trousers, and wholly expecting to land on the mat more than once today. Perhaps some of the others had studied hand-to-hand combat techniques, but not Ahrim. He'd been drilled since age ten in the defensive form of Soresu, often having to deflect and intercept practice bolts from a low-grade blaster. Or worst still, the old man using a technique of the Force to overcome the infirmities ravaging his failing body to hammer the boy into shape like a blade straight from the forge. Same with trying to hammer a semblance of humility and respect into the little smuggler-spawn.

"I uh, met one of your kind before, but I was fairly young." He'd been little more than waist high, bright-eyed and sitting on a stool in a cantina on one of the few smuggler's hangouts along the Si'Klaata Cluster. The fact the Echani, a woman who's name he could only remember something along the lines of 'Tsu'. The Corellian decided to forego mentioning she had been a buyer of his parents' loads of Glitterstim when they frequented the Run. She'd been friendly enough. Told him a few stories. Wouldn't let him touch the weapon she kept on her person but that had been okay. Just because she'd tolerated the constant barrage of questions shot at her. And expertly deflected many of them with other topics once the mention of their martial art came up. Likely nothing more than fanciful things to occupy a young mind. Or containing some hidden meaning only they could grasp.

"She used to tell me stories while my folks' were readying up on the next haul whenever we were docked at the station she frequented." Perhaps in contrast to Ze'kyre's own discomfort at being on the Jedi Flagship, Ahrim seemed quite at ease. In fact, he preferred the void versus the hard packed, gravity-filled 'ground' most sentients' seemed so fond of. Abashed, he covered the helpless smile that had crept up.

"When I saw her walking, I thought she danced on air... Erm," Clearing his throat he waved a hand as if to excuse himself. "Rambling, sorry. But, I did have a question. Do all Echani learn this as children? Or is it only a select few?" His ignorance on their culture showed, still it never hurt to ask questions. After all, even when you move around the galaxy you can only pick up snippets of trivia. Hardly the complete tale. "It's just I heard that all Echani children were taught."

 

[AshCloud]

"Ashley Narris, sir." She gave a deep bow before sitting with the others. The Human Girl's garments were as simple as the other's, and she was well adjusted to them. "I've been told that Echani forms are used in a select few military task forces.. I'll feel much safer with this knowledge at my disposal." A lightsaber was well and good, and Ash kept hers with her at all times, but it was a physical thing, and could be removed from her person. Techniques, especially Echani martial arts, were a part of you.

"A friend of mine told me," She began, "That those with training in Echani form can tell each other apart simply by the way they walk, some can see the battles they've fought in the way the soldiers breathe even... Is it true?" She didn't mean to unload all these questions, but her nature got the better of her, she wanted to know all she could before making an attempt at the practices herself.

She looked their Instructor over, wondering if he even needed to use the force to be able to tell what the students were thinking, she sat with her back straight, and wondered if he could see past the scars on her face.

 

[Resolute\\.ZEN]

Ze'kyre's mismatched gaze fell on Rorik as he began to speak. He was glad to find that the man was well-read, and smiled his approval. "Ignorance, yet knowledge," he recited of the Jedi Code. "It may be that these uninformed are privy to something many choose to ignore," he offered in reply. "The art of telepathy can find many mediums." His eyes slimmed with mirth as his smile widened. His attention was then caught by the second of his students.

Ahrim's story seemed fair. It was not uncommon for echani to move about with such grace that simple tasks appeared to be artistic expression, for commonly they were. When he asked of the exclusivity of the teachings, Ze'kyre spoke up once more. "No, you are right. It is typical for every child to be instructed in the first tier, usually from the age of five." The monk himself had started training immediately after learning to walk, but had begun with the Echani Art tiers shortly before his fourth name day. The disciplines of the Eshan Order were firm, but had built him into a warrior as fine as any. "I will speak more of the three separate tiers in a moment.

Ashley made the observation of how the Echani Art had been practiced by a number of different military forces. The Thyrsian Sun Guard used similar practices, but could never have perfected them, the thyrsian-echani had lost site of the true depth of Echani Art and typically did not move past the first tier since having there blood transformed by Thyrsus' blistering sun. Aside from that, he was unsure of such a thing, but could not doubt its truth. It only made sense that such powerful techniques would be put to use.

"Some say that the eyes are the window to the soul. I argue that the soul expresses itself freely wherever it wishes. There are no limits to what may be said, even through simple, mundane acts. You all sit as I do, but as I look from one to another, I see much different people, both inside and out."

He examined them one by one. Within Ashley he noted a slight insecurity. She was eager to learn, but perhaps sought the knowledge out of fear. It was a dangerous thing to act out of fear, but the Echani Art encompassed more than most expected, and he hoped through developing her martial competence she would bring herself confidence. Ahrim was the picture of mischief. There was no doubt in Ze'kyre's mind that this one had plenty to hide. However, these were hard times for the Jedi, and he was sure that the order could use a scoundrel here and there, for they possessed the type of capacity for certain tasks Ze'kyre himself likely did not. He sensed no danger from teaching the scoundrel. And when his eyes once again found Rorik, he recognized the eldest of all in the room for being experienced, rugged, and discerning, likely a journeyman of many traits and skills still seeking the best way to apply himself to the galaxy.

"But the Echani Arts are not completely about learning of others. To learn of oneself is the most important aspect. A certain level of self-awareness is required for one to begin practicing." Thus why they were still seated. It was certainly possible that one or more of the Padawans would not be able to grasp the sense of honour he hoped to teach. Without honour, one could not be a pupil of the Echani Arts, and Ze'kyre was not one to make shortcuts.

"The Echani Arts as I mentioned earlier are separated into three tiers. Each of these levels of mastery hones in on different aspects of both martial technique and echani value. The first of these levels, the tier of the Pupil, is founded in ones sense of honour." It was time now for him to pose them thoughts of his own, and find out if the Padawans had been doing their research.

"Ashley, in regards to the Eightfold Path, I want you to tell me how we can strive to develop honour through wisdom. Ahrim, how can we display it through our conduct? Rorik, how does honour effect our discipline as Jedi?"

 

[Apocrypha]

"An interesting question," he replied, smoothing his beard habitually, thoughtfully. There as no need to charge into an answer half-cocked; as such, he paused, pondering.

"I would posit that - while the two traits can be exclusive - within the belief system of a Jedi, they are intertwine; without strict discipline, a sense of honor can become purposeless, muddled. Without honor, a hierarchy of discipline can be vicious - it can devolve into malice, hatred. Action without forethought or regulation. A strong sense of honor brings a Jedi's discipline - developed through the rigors of training, undertaking others' burdens and providing them with aid, and sacrificing one's own wants and desires for the sake of the galaxy at large - into sharper focus, honing it until it is an invaluable tool."

"With honor, we believe that even the darkest of beings can be redeemed; we do not strike first, preemptively, nor do we seek to do harm to those without arms. We eschew malicious action in favor of dedicated meditation, dedicating the patience required to fully examine a problem and solve it at its core, not on some more base level, such as with violence and bloodshed. Our sense of honor defines us as Jedi: we feel the call - the indefatigable need to save others. Though our purposes are different - redemption, reflex, the idolization of a Jedi Knight or Master dear to us - each of us, at our core, are driven by a singular purpose: to do good."

"To me," he summed, smiling wanly, "this is what purpose honor has."

 

[Intratec]

One of Ahrim's hands wiped at his mouth as if something offending hung there. What kind of question was that? Honor came in so many different shapes and sizes. But he knew all were firmly founded upon a virtuous spirit and the humility to admit their faults. Rorik gave his answer, but the younger of the duo barely heard it as he pondered his own response at the question imposed before him.

"There's no simple answer to that question. But, my family were spacers, always have been. And have a bit of a creed. Something we... well, now only I live by now I guess. 'The journey home is one through the self.' For me it means that I must reflect and ponder my own actions. Be they past, rooted in the present, or in the future by looking into the very core of my being. Only through seeing what lies underneath all the superficial layers can I begin to figure out just who am I am, and what I can be. Then can I admit my faults, striving to work through them. Not only to better myself, but by extension those around me."

Rubbing the side of his head, Ahrim looked toward the dichromatic Echani. "So, I guess by being humble yet insightful; not allowing our more base emotions dictate our actions. To look inward and make peace with the fact we are by our very nature imperfect beings. From this we can perceive others in the same light as ourselves, imperfect, but equally deserving of our respect, protection and what other assistance we may be able to offer those truly in need."He grimaced then, tired of trying to frame it in eloquence not once, but twice."My poor attempt at flowery speech aside, if I see someone who needs my help, I'm going to help them. I will protect them from harm should it find them. And do so while reminding myself I am nothing more than a simple man with a gift, a gift I chose to use to help the less fortunate."

 

[AshCloud]

"Honor through knowledge..." Ashley pondered for a moment, listening to how the other students had answered their questions, "by learning from others, our elders and peers, and using what they've taught us, we honour them, and honour the person who taught them, and the teacher before, and so on." She continued the stream of thoughts in her mind, the river of knowledge. Any of the Jedi teachings could be thousands of years old, and by learning them and passing them on, you spread their honor with yours. The Echani forms are taught to every Echan child, they're as old as the species itself. "With each form you learn, you honour the Echani way of life.."

She worked the question even more, "and it's an honor in itself to be able to share the your knowledge, a legacy..." She closed her eyes, "like a fountain with many pools, all the water taken from different streams, or a great tree, the different roots spreading about are still as a whole."

"You honour us with your teachings," Ashley smiled, "thank you."

 

[Resolute\\.ZEN]

"Very good, Rorik," replied the mentor after the first answer was shared. The Padawan had thoroughly described the essence of honour upon the path of Right Effort. Discipline, as the Jedi had come to understand it, required such a sense in order to be genuine. He was right, honour is little before it is applied to an aspect of life, and untempered discipline could be a path straight into the Dark. The warrior appreciated the thoughtfulness of the answer, and showed so with a respectful nod of the head. "The way of Right Effort must be understood before we can practice the acts of Right Mindfulness and Concentration, it is important to honour the higher self as Jedi, instead of our lower desires and wants. But even still as we move on through the Path of the Jedi, I think we see more and more what affect our honour has on the more abstract aspects of the Eightfold."

His attention shifted to Ahrim as he reflected on the second answer given. The younger of the men shared his thoughts, and the instructor at first seemed a little disappointed, but soon began to warm to the words spoken. "Your family followed a very powerful creed, Padawan." He said with another respectful nod. Ze'kyre had always believed that as infinite as the universe was without, it expanded no further than the mind did within. It was tantamount to remember this as a Jedi. "But it is important to remember that you live by another creed as well, that of the Jedi Code.

"Before we can express right conduct, we must be careful to observe every option, which can be as easy as paying your peers the honour of listening to them." The white monk smirked as he playfully called out Ahrim for not paying attention as Rorik had answered. Whether or not he had heard it, the oldest of the Padawans had answered part of his question for him, and he would have done well to touch on it. "Simple answers come to those who lead simple lives, Padawan Ahrim, and sometimes simple minds catch things smarter minds can not be bothered with." He gave the young man a polite smile, hoping to not have soured his disposition. The Padawan had done well in explaining how honour could help one with their own faults, now the white warrior would see exactly how well he applied such knowledge.

And then Ze'kyre attention once again shifted, as Ashley formed an answer to the question he had posed to her. Her answer was very insightful, and when she smiled and thanked him, Ze'kyre returned her smile in full. "You honour me with your understanding," he said with a final bow of his head.

"It is good to pay appreciation to the lineage through which your knowledge comes from. Information that we have come to know as truth is only as credible as those who spoke it, and by understanding what you are taught, you honour all who learned before you, as well as their teachers. But Wisdom is not only found in class rooms, Padawan Ashley.

"Ahrim earlier described the way of Right View. It is important that we remember to detach from ourselves and our own ideologies when we are accepting new information. Keeping an open mind while maintaining a discerning heart… it is a fine line we walk as Jedi. But it is upon this line that we walk the path of Right Intention."

The Eightfold Path of the Jedi and the fundamental understandings of Echani Art went hand in hand, and Ze'kyre believed that in order to teach such arts to other Jedi, he would need to ensure they had a solid understanding of how important honour was in their life. He was happy that they had a solid understanding of what honour was on a whole, at least well enough as most five year old echani. But Rorik had been the best at showing he could apply such knowledge specifically. He was not here to play favourites however. "Do not forget to study the Pillars of the Jedi and the Eightfold Path, you can not be a Knight before becoming intimate with the Orders philosophies." Ze'kyre briefly recalled his own hours meditating on such teachings.

"But you have all done well, Padawans. He allowed a moment for them all to reflect on what he had said before uncrossing his legs and coolly climbing to his feet. "Any further questions, before we begin, Pupils?" It may have been a simple word, but the title marked them as official students of the Echani Arts. His off-setting gaze was warmed by the rewarding smile he shared with them.

 

[Apocrypha]

With patience and respect for his colleagues, Rorik listened to each Padawan formulate an answer to their individual questions in their own time; he could sense that the two of them were both intelligent, but lacking the raw experience that he had himself acquired - not that he faulted them for it. In some ways, the first-hand wisdom he had garnered over a decade on the lam had killed the young boy that had been; in others, a much more capable and resourceful man had taken that boy's place, and he welcomed that development. Fortunately enough, he had managed to banish many of the demons plaguing his conscience since the initial bombing of the temple on Coruscant, and then the city-planet's sacking at the hands of the Imperium; he stood now a reasonably at peace young man, ready to do important work. Learning how to better protect himself and those around him was one of many steps along that path.

"No, Master Ze'kyre," he replied with respect, rising to his feet and inclining his head; the Echani was neither a Jedi Master, nor was he Rorik's own master, so to speak, but the Padawan felt that the formal title was necessary for the time being; under the tutelage of another, there was always a student and master - though, of course, that role could often interchange, or be applied to both participants simultaneously. Through each other, they would learn - and grow, and heal, and strengthen.

 

[Intratec]

Ahrim bore the gentle rebuke with all the grace he could muster, keeping his expression impassive. But at the very least the Echani had provided some positives to his own statement to ease whatever hurt it may have inflicted upon him. There had been no hurts however. Only reminders of his path, and reassurances it was the correct one. The path of a Jedi. Pushing himself to his feet, all Ahrim could do in response to the taller Knight's question was shake his head and utilize a term he'd heard a term used in the stories told to him by Tsu, the Echani smuggler when he was little.

"No, Sensei." Supposedly it meant teacher, or master as far as he was aware. But the silvery-haired smuggler had implied it could hold a deeper meaning akin to that of the Padawan-Master bond.

 

[AshCloud]

Ashley's determination shone through slightly, "I'm ready to learn, Master!" While normally weaker than most of the students, the human girl had a hidden strength that she felt she should acknowledge more often. Ash did wonder something first, before getting ahead of herself. "I've heard that the Ecahni method of teaching involves quite a bit of sparring, will we have to spar on another?" She had tried to learn as much as she could about Echani culture before attending her martial lessons, but she knew that relying on written information could lead to downfall, and thought it best to verify her readings.

 

[Resolute\\.ZEN]

The instructor smiled as his students rose to their feet. Ahrim's use of the word sensei brought with it a reminiscent hue of memory. He showed his appreciation, knowing that the young man's old friend must have taught him the word as a child. When they were all standing, he listened as Ashley asked if they would be sparring today.

"Sparring is very important when learning the ways of war. Although there are many regulations and forms to the Echani Arts, we still want it to prepare us for the real battles we will face as Guardians of the Force. The muscle memory is useless without developing the instinct to act upon it." He allowed his words to sink in for a moment, before raising his arms, and motioning for them to mimic him.

"The Echani Art is practiced as a dance," he told them as his smile faded and his brow lowered. "The steps are simple, fluid, and elegant, and the motions allow any number of attacks to spring forth with great power and hidden potential.

"First we start like this, bend your knees." His feet were spaced more than shoulder-width apart, allowing him to sway his lowered centre of gravity side to side just slightly. His hips and shoulders loosened, but he kept his hands in front of himself, weaving about each other rhythmically in a defensive pattern. "The steps are like this."

His weight shifted over his left knee and his right foot lifted off of the ground and reached out behind him. When he placed the ball of his foot on the about a meter behind the other, he was careful not to put too much of his weight upon it. His left arm was out to his side, while his right hand stayed in front of his face defensively. Rhythmically, he brought his foot back up to where it was, and shifted his weight over the opposite knee.

The motion repeated on the other side, this time with his left foot reached back, and his right arm out to his side. He repeated the motion, his centre of gravity kept low while moving from side to side with each step. "This step is called Yusuru. Through the motion we find balance, rhythm, and we attune ourselves to our opponents by dancing to the music of one another's soul. Come, try."

 

[Apocrypha]

Dexterous and trained in hand-to-hand combat - at least, to a degree - already, Rorik mimicked Ze'kyre's movements with ease; the opening stance of the martial art was not particularly challenging, but rewarding in its own way, gratifying in its fluid motions and ease of movement. His mind humming and whirring, it occurred to Rorik that - from this opening stance - a practitioner of the Echani Arts' would be able to maintain a firm defense, or just as easily execute a precise and swift aggressive strike against their enemy. He marveled at how, even at its simplest level, the art was elegant, refined, and multi-faceted.

Keeping an eye on Ze'kyre, the Padawan moved to shift his stance in tandem, his balance focusing over his left leg while his right slid backwards a distance, his left arm coming up to his side and his right screening the front of his body defensively. Once the Echani instructor moved to reverse the stance, Rorik followed suit, allowing his muscles to relax and perform their duties with grace. Though he didn't have his lightsaber with its kasha crystal for added focus, Rorik was fairly adept at centering himself solo, and did so, drawing inward and closing his eyes, seeing without sight and allowing his sensory perceptions to flow through him gently; the hum of the ship's sublight engine; the hiss of mechanical doors sliding to and fro at various intervals as people wandered; the slow, unlabored breathing of his fellow Padawans and their instructor.

While there was not as much to draw comfort from, here in the void of space, one could always find at least some components of the usual humdrum of sentient life; there were no trees swaying in the wind, no fauna buzzing about their business, no flowing streams or cascading waterfalls - but there was evidence of being, in its own way, and it brought comfort to Rorik.

 

[Intratec]

The stance was... a little awkward for Ahrim to settle into. At first he'd fallen into a perfect opening stance of Soresu. Back leg bent, foreleg extending forward ready for a full on defensive bout. But looking to the Echani's foot placement he had made an error. Both legs soon slid further, and further apart until he soon bent his knees in imitation of the Knight. Watching the older Jedi loosen himself up, becoming limber and weave a defensive pattern with naught but his hands in front of himself. Observing, Ahrim watched first Ze'kyre, then his own arms and hands slowly trying to weave that rhythmic pattern his new found teach had so effortlessly performed. Circles, elegant sweeps, all to batter aside an opponent's strikes. To create a web between himself and his opponent. It came easily enough to him, the defensive aspect of the movement.

But it still felt amateurish all the same. He was after all a swordsman first. But now learning hand to hand combat that required a level of discipline akin to his own lightsaber form. Albeit with more manual dexterity it seemed, if Ze'kyre's transition into another movement had anything to say about it. Ahrim stumbled; catching himself a split-second later with a somewhat loud exhalation through his nose. But he was trying to follow the second half of the sequence. Half-way through however, he came off more like an Endorian chicken waddling until nearing the final steps. The end resembling Ze'kyre's movement enough to assuage at least part of the awkwardness he felt.

 

[AshCloud]

Ashley mimicked the stance, her small form was dexterous and light, as was required by Ataru. She breathed deeply as she copied the movements that the Echani Jedi had displayed. Her movements were slow and she contemplated speeding her arms, but rejected the idea; an unfamiliar stance coupled with unfamiliar movements was a clumsy combination.

While working on the form, Ash simultaneously focused on her breathing. The movements were meditative in their own right, and after several repetitions, Ashley hardly thought about her body moving, it was slowly becoming instinctive.

She didn't grip the form as fast as Rorik, and didn't feel as confident as Ahrim, but Ash's slow and steady pace was helping her muscle memories to learn the form in an efficient manner. "I hope I'm not slowing the rest of you down..." Her voice was self criticising, but her concentration didn't break from the form.

 

[Resolute\\.ZEN]

((OOC: Nice attention to detail folks. If you want to know more about the first tier stance, check out the martial art called capoeira. I've based the first tier (almost) exclusively on it since echani are known for being poetic and dance-like. Aside from that, its my personal favourite martial art, so much fun. The Yusuru is actually called the Ginga and there are many examples on the internet of how the dance like motion leads into a variety of attacks and escapes, which we will break down a few of shortly :) Also using this post to point out a few things I'd take advantage of in PVP, even though we aren't fighting yet, that is what we're training for, no?))

Ze'kyre continued the yusuru, allowing all of them to get a beginners grasp on the form. It was, of course, not the most efficient way to face an adversary, the constant stepping actually saw it become a huge practice for cardiovascular health, and combined with a steady flow of offence and defence it would surely be a very well-placed practice in stamina. Thoroughly conditioned as he was, he continued the motion until the three of them began to grow tired, at which point it would be easier to observe and point out their fundamental flaws.

"Don't worry about your hands so much," he told Ahrim. He had begun his stance with a flourish of his arms, and it was common to do such an action while in the parallel, or middle, of the Yusuru, to confuse opponents both defensively and offensively, it was not a fundamental aspect of the art just yet. "Just make sure you face is guarded. The Yusuru is very hard for forward advancing opponents to target you. As you sway away from any attacks that might come from your left, your right arm moves out to defend against your right, with always an arm protecting your head... don't be lazy, lift that arm." He made sure to continue as simply as possible, as he did not mean to confuse his students.

"Very good, Padawan Rorik." Said the instructor as he stopped swinging from side to side to inspect how they all handled the yusuru. "Don't raise your outside arm so much, and keep the inside arm higher, at neck level." He brought his arm right up to his face, almost sticking his chin right into his wrist, only inches apart. "Guard your face tight. Even though it is practiced as a game, it is your own fault if you get kicked in the head." He had felt sorry for accidentally hitting other disciples when he was still at the monastery, occasionally pausing the game to rush to their aid. But when he had been struck as such himself, he knew it had only been for his own lack of caution and that he had been beat fairly. He had learned to keep his face protected the hard way.

"I hope I'm not slowing the rest of you down," Ashley stated apologetically.

"Do not be sorry for your own progress," Ze'kyre replied. "Take pride in what you learn, Padawan Ashley, you are doing great. Remember to keep your weight on your front leg when the other sweeps back. It seems easier to rock back and forward as you go from side to side, but that motion is reserved for defence and will slow down your offensive manoeuvres by a considerable fraction of a second." Not one instant could be spared when face to face with another warrior, and such a seemingly minuscule amount of time carried a lot of depth and possibility for the Eshan monk.

"That is more like it, Padawan Ahrim." It had been clumsy and ungraceful at first, but now Ahrim, in the middle of the three students, had grasped the outer end of the Yusuru, even if the transition through the parallel was still clumsy. "It's only two steps from side to side, keep it simple, you've got it." When all three of them were synchronous, Ze'kyre allowed a break. It had been fifteen minutes, long enough for the motion to wind most people, and so he allowed them to catch their breath while he displayed the first of a couple of dodges.

From the left side of his yusuru, his rear foot came forward, stepping slightly further to his right than usual, as his upper body arced sideways and further to his right. His left hand stuck tight to his face and he leaned to his right. "Lateral escape," ((esquiva lateral in Capoeira)) he told them as his right hand caught his weight. Resuming with the same rhythm, he pushed back into the parallel stance, and with his weight over his left knee his right leg found position stretched behind him once more. He did not lose the beat, having simply ducked lower than three feet instead of reversing the stance. Some taught to not put your hand on the ground, but your could not get so tight to the ground which was a useful practice.

He swung to his right side, reaching his left foot back behind him even further than usual. This allowed him to dip low again, and touch his right hand to the ground outside of his right foot. "Front escape." ((Esquiva de frente / Esquiva de Baixa)) He kicked off the ball of his rear foot, keeping time as his feet became parallel once again. His left arm, having been protecting his face, swung back outwards as his right arm assumed its position.

Swaying to his right, he stepped his left foot back but then instead of placing it parallel to his right again, he put his weight on the ball of his rear foot, bent that knee, and fell back upon his heel. His right hand fell flat upon the ground, and his left guarded his face. "This is called the negative stance. ((Negativa)) Not only can it be used to dodge and counter attack like the other escapes, this one has a wide and complete variety of movements that can immediately follow. Here."

He pushed back to his feet, and continued the yusuru. Ze'kyre perfumed each of the manoeuvres for them again, performing a slower, broken down tutorial to show the nuances and intricacies of each one. "Now try it with me," he said as he slowed his yusuru even further to allow them to practice along to his rhythm.

 

[Apocrypha]

Mindful of Ze'kyre's movements, Rorik began to emulate them in earnest; beginning with the Lateral Escape, he first isolated it as a four-beat progressive movement, then slid into each step with poise and determination: one foot out wide, the other centered underneath his hips, followed by a shifting of balance - a feint from one side to the other - and then swiftly, he raised one arm to protect his face, the other coiled neatly behind his body. Rorik repeated the motion several times, from both sides, before he felt secure in his execution and moved on to the next exercise in the series.

Beginning the Frontal Escape, he slid bodily to the floor, hand flat against the durasteel, head cocked to the side with the other hand in a guarded position, his opposite leg splayed backwards, its knee hovering only a handful of inches above the floor. Switching to the mirrored stance on the opposite side of his body, he considered the technique's practicality in avoiding lower strikes - though it was less mobile than the Lateral Escape. Again, he repeated the maneuver until it felt almost natural.

Finally, the Padawan moved on to the Negative Stance. With his foot back and his arm up to shield his chin, he flourished forward, rotating both arms and utilizing his guard arm for balance, hand flat upon the floor, rear leg coming forward at an angle. He rested upon the heel of his now-forward foot as his other hand assumed the guard position, his now-rear leg coiled, most of his weight balanced upon the ball of that foot. This stance seemed the most fluid and mobile of the three - Rorik felt that he could quickly rotate from one side to the other, using the stance to avoid feet and fists thrown towards his midsection, and perhaps even transition into solid strikes of his own.

 

[Intratec]

'Give me a lightsaber, and I could weave a defense even a sleemo Hutt lawyer couldn't wiggle through. But this, I feel like a Twi'lek dancer in a Nar Shaddaa cabaret!' The thought crossing his mind while muscles that had been honed specifically for his art resisted the more intricate and finely tuned movements of Echani. The Corellian actively gritted his teeth, leg muscles tightened, biceps going taut for a blow that would never come. He knew just from looking at his fellows that it called for a certain looseness. Relaxing the muscles took more effort than he'd have cared for, for both they and his training screamed at him. Tighten your defense!

But these new movements... For a Spacer, his complexion was nothing to sneeze at to start with. But already pale skin threatened to go a shade akin to the Echani Knight's white-streaked hair. Already his body was warring with itself to perform such, (At least to the children of the Echani) simple, yet foreign movements. Compared to the two other Padawans, he was completely out of sync, muscles twitched, relaxed, tightened, his face a screwed on mask of stubbornness defiance. That age old adage of their having 'Rocket-fuel for blood' hammered away at the stonewall of his self-control. Suddenly standing straight with a hand wiping at his forehead, Ahrim shook his head and motioned for them to continue with a rushed, 'Give me a minute'. His breathing hadn't become labored, yet a thin sheen of sweat glistened off his forehead.

The Padawan had caught his rising temper and now began settling it. "Sensei, how am I to get my body to move in such a way, when all it knows is the form previously hammered into it? It feels like I'm fighting myself."

 

[AshCloud]

Ashley's slow movements continued with the form's advancement. "It feels like I'm Dancing... But the way I train makes it a strange rthym." She breathed in slowly, and quickened her movements. The movements appeared natural, but her muscles and joints were starting to feel the strain. "I see know..." She murmured to herself as her breathing and movements slowed. Her focus returned to it's full strength as she moved again, "light and free, like water, but reinforced with strength and dexterity.

While she wasn't incredibly strong Ash's dexterity more than made up for it. Her nature was adaptive, and the forms felt like a nice change of pace from the jumping and flipping of Ataru, and she could see why Ahrim was struggling. "We must unlearn what we have learned, and be willing to let the knowledge flow, like a fountain. These forms are meditative in and of themselves."

Despite her words, Ashley struggled, and her arms shook slightly, her focus being replaced by a numbing pain.