The Way of the Pale Warrior

[Kaane]

​

Candles. Incense. The gentle, yet pounding hum of war drums. To the inexperienced eye, it was another scene straight out of a new age self-help holo-book. But it was in fact something far more meaningful.

Dawn sat, cross-legged in the middle of the room, a dojo, if you will, his usual Sith garments discarded for the pale kimono he once wore as an Acolyte. It was once quite bare here, miscellaneous bits and pieces of discarded training materials littering the corners and walls. It had been handed over to Dawn once he had been promoted, a room for his personal use. Dawn had since industriously cleaned the space up, and begun decorating it with different bits and pieces from his travels and experiences with the Echani homeworld, Eshan. A world where the word of mouth always came second to combat. Like most of his half-brothers and sisters, he had always believed that a fight could express more than verbal communication ever could. And now, it was time for his other family, that of the Sith, to learn that truth.

He looked up from his meditation, surveying the exotic bladed weapons, the tapestries depicting the beliefs and symbols of his people...or rather, what should have been his people. His father had robbed him of this glorious heritage...but he had been making amends for this mistake of fortune. And by teaching others the ways of Echani battle, he would continue on that path. And perhaps, similar to how he had filled up this room in the Academy, he would fill up the empty room in his heart.

He checked the time, displayed on a simple clock above the doorway. His students would be arriving soon. He had instructed them to keep their minds and hearts open for this little class...it was time to see who would see truth in the Way of the Pale Warrior.

 

[Vexillar]

Viole didn't carry his saber with him today. He held no need for it where he was going. Of course if things went bad, and he was always prepared for bad, he had Eezeo with him...or the fact that he was an Arcanist in the Sith Order. Pretty much meant he was never defenseless. Never. With a thought he could shatter bones, break the mind, destroy someone's entire reality. He could heal incurable diseases, and rid himself of lethal toxins. He could alter the elements around him at will even. No, as a Master of the Force, he was never without a weapon or ally. This class, however, would see that reality furthered.

Echani were one of the most fierce combatants in all of the galaxy. Their style was not just about fighting. It was more of an expression, a way to truly tell someone how you felt, what was going on, it laid your soul on the table for all to see...if you knew how to look at it. It was not only able to relax the body, but the mind as well. Echani were unique in that their combat, their art, was basically how their entire society ran. Frequent combating was seen as a kind of courtship, and by adding in proper etiquette and structure to combat an opponent could properly read and respond in kind. It was...beautiful really. Viole knew much about their combat, and the way it influenced their society, because to him it was something akin to meditation. A way for a warrior to truly understand themselves, and, from Viole's point of view, in turn understand the universe. If you knew where to look of course.

Viole wouldn't be here unless he felt it was for the best. Besides, it was a chance to watch Dawn teach. He wasn't about to pass this up. He walked into the designated room with slightly wet hair, fresh from a shower, a simple shirt, and some loose fitting pants. His feet were bare as he strolled into the room with a small smile on his face. He gave a small two finger salute to Dawn and Eezeo beeped in greeting as well. "Hello, Instructor." He chuckled slightly and stood before Dawn, feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind his back. For the duration of this session he was simply a student. His rank left him at the door...unless another student got mouthy. Then he'd have to remind them of their place if Dawn failed to. Though it wasn't often that people got to train with a Master, even rarer that someone trained a Master, so he didn't expect anyone to cause problems.

 

[DaBomb]

Veronica knew that in order to fight hand to hand, it wasn't all about strength, it was about precision and etiquette. You needed to strike with calm and fluid movements, and that was precisely why she decided to show up today. Her past as a slave made her blunt and unfocused. She needed to learn balance, and she was hoping she'd get a bunch of that in today's lesson.

Veronica walked into the room with loose fitting clothes, as opposed to her normal robe. While walking in she noticed two people. She saw someone, who was the definition of bright, meditating in front of her. To the right of her she noticed a man with brown hair. Giving a quick bow to the teacher, she stood to the left of the door, awaiting instruction.

 

[Miz]

The crusader couldn't say he had known Dawn before hand, but wouldn't pass up the chance to learn a new fighting form. Though he had to admit that he hadn't really known the Echani culture as well as he should have. As a warrior he needed to educate himself on all types of fighting forms in order to find the most effective ways to crush imperial enemies. In all honesty he didn't care for Echani culture, roots, breeding patterns or whatever these people practiced. All he cared about was how many ways one could snap another in half with their bare hands. And at this juncture he knew five.

Dressed in his regular attire, dark blue robe covering the entirety of his armor, Mizchno scanned the dojo with the force before entering the practice area. There were three other force signatures within the room all differing on power levels, two were familiar to him. Taking a deep breath, the beserker cracked his neck and knuckles before entering the room. As he slowly trudged through the room he surveyd the room with his mechanical eye before clasping all four hands together giving Dawn a brief bow.

"How does the day great you?" Mizchno said, in male programmed voice before turning his attention towards the other two in the room. One was his student, Veronica, and the other face was the Arcanist Voile Nivar. He had heard of his success in the Yag'Dhul Invasion, a powerful being who had seemed to forego his lightsaber in this instance. Such a practice was ill advised in his opinion, the ability to wield the force to such mastery is a powerful tool, but this gift can be taken away, then what? Mizchno's lighstabers hung from his belt at all times, even when he slept.

 

[Simon]

Relia strode through the halls of the ancient Sith Academy, passing many a Sith as she headed towards her next class. A training session on both the culture and fighting styles of the Echani, for whom their form of fighting was named. It was more than just a simple combat form, however; it was its own language among their people. To the Echani, fighting was as much a form of communication as talking, perhaps moreso. In combat, one reveals their true nature to their adversary, and can explain much more with their actions than they can by sitting and holding a lengthy conversation. The reading of one's body movements became the primary way of distinguishing people in a society dominated by those who looked the same as their siblings. Relia had learned very few of the Echani culture, and most of what she did know was simple knowledge and rudimentary understanding of the most basic styles of combat. She felt this as an essential learning opportunity; to learn both an important piece of culture and a highly advanced form of martial arts.

Clad in her typical attire of a sleek, midnight black form-fitting suit enshrouded by her loose dark robes, Relia approached the training room in which she was to be taught along with three others. Her lightsaber swayed gently with her movements, attached to her hips. Before entering, she reached out and felt the Force signatures of those within. Of the group, only two stood out, one of which she had encountered several times during her training as an Acolyte. Relia entered the room and looked at those gathered, before looking at Viole and Veronica.

"Master Nivar, a pleasure seeing you here. It is rare to train alongside a Master, even stranger for that Master to have been your teacher numerous times. And Acolyte Necro, interesting seeing you here as well."

Relia gave Viole a curt bow, before turning to Dawn and giving him the same greeting. She then looked around the room, taking in the surroundings. Like all Sith rooms, this was simply, yet elegantly, decorated. The smell of incense burning wafted through the air and the soft glow of candles illuminated the room. The room radiated a sense of calmness, despite the immense strength of the Dark Side present.

 

[Kaane]

Dawn chuckled at the first presence as he entered; it was one all to familiar to him.

"I thought you were joking when you signed up...surely you must only be here to indulge my ego," he said with a smile, nodding his head and giving a bow to the Master as he rose from his seated position. Though his presence always made him slightly nervous, especially when he was about to give a class, at the same time his calm and familiar countenance was always somewhat infectious. And besides, he wouldn't have to worry about his students becoming too unruly with him around.

He then watched as the rest of the students filed in, one by one, greeting each of them in turn. First was a human woman, who gave him nothing but a quiet bow, which Dawn returned. She was quite calm and collected on the outside, it seemed. But things were rarely as they seemed, and Dawn's senses barely even needed to touch her to know of a raging maelstrom within her. She would definitely be interesting to interpret more carefully. Next came a rather brutish, powerful figure: a Codru-ji, judging by the extra set of arms she was packing. He responded to her...or...maybe his...slightly strangely worded greeting with a "Well, thank you," and another bow of the head. Dawn could only imagine what kind of drugs a human would have to do to get that ikind of muscle strength...but he dismissed those frivolous thoughts for the moment as his final student entered. It was another female, this time with crimson hair...a Vahla, by the looks of how she carried herself. Like those before her, once again, the outward picture projected calm. It was how many Sith were, it seemed. But whatever it was that was inside her, like most everyone else here, would come forth into the light soon enough.

His initial perceptions complete, his violet eyes taking them all in quietly, he crossed the short distance between he and his students, beginning to speak. It was a distraction of sorts mostly, as he began to look far more closely at them. The position of their feet, arms, and hands, the slight swaying and twitching of their bodies, their posture overall, all of this and more he was taking in, the eurhythmics of each Sith creating the initial pieces of the jigsaw puzzles that Dawn began to idly piece together in his head. Even if these students learned nothing of the Echani people, it was this art that he knew that they were looking for. And he would not disappoint them.

"Welcome," he said to them collectively whilst in the process of reading their bodies. "You may already know me as Crusader Radiant Dawn. But here...you will not know me as such. In this shii'resh, in this room...we are no longer Sith. We will part from the frivolous notions of rank and title that are pressed upon you daily. Here, the only rank comes from what you are, and what you are willing to become."

He stopped pacing and surveying them, now looking them all in the eyes. "Now...I feel I must explain a few things to you first. Contrary to what you might have learned elsewhere, the Echani have no true martial art form. It is too fluid to record and practice normally. It changes constantly, based on emotion, intent, and the skill of the practitioner. It is more of a way of life, a process, than a fighting style...a way to tap into your true self, and to use the willpower it gives you in order to express and defend yourself in ways that will augment your existing knowledge of martial arts. In essence...what you will learn here will bring you to your maximum potential. And perhaps more importantly, you will discover yourself along the way."

Dawn chuckled, a raspy, deep chuckle that sounded perhaps a bit more sinister than it was intended to be. "But that is only the first tenet of what you might learn today. There is something far more lucrative in store...the art of Huren-Jith. Seeing Through Body. What Echani are so famous for, what they've based their entire society off of. When you learn this art properly, you will never look at others the same way again. Imagine...reading a man like a book. A singular body motion becomes a whole sentence. A fight? An entire history, a novel to be perused at your leisure." He cracked a smirk. "Tantalizing, I'm sure. Certainly would make the art of Dun Moch ten times easier for you...which is why, I'm sure, most of you are here. But while you gain an advantage, you will also learn of a weakness. You will learn just how vulnerable you, yourself are. To being read just as easily as you might read others. Try as you might, there is little you could ever do consciously to mask the truth you convey even as we speak. Just the act of trying is a hint to the truth in and of itself. You will be open for all to see. Something I'm sure you'd be rather uncomfortable with."

He pointed to the door behind them. "Ignorance is bliss. The exit's there, if you wish to remain within it."

 

[Vexillar]

(( sorry for the delay, I fell behind in posting @_@ ))

He gave a small nod and a smile to the Acolyte who addressed him. It was good to see her, and better to see that she continued to expand her knowledge of combat. Not that she was bad, he just enjoyed knowing that students he taught did go on to take other courses. He was sure she'd find one of Dawn's classes less danger-filled and "life or deathy" than one of his.

What Dawn said was true. He didn't like having his thoughts, his feelings, the truth really, out there for everyone to read and see. So few, however, understood how to read a combatant, however, read their feelings and what else lingered under the skin, that it didn't really disturb him too much...but just enough. He remained silent and still, however, and allowed Dawn to continue speaking. At the end of it the door was offered. A generous offer for sure, but not one that Viole planned on taking. He was here for a reason, and he would see that reason completed before he left this room. His head tilted slightly as if silently asking the others if they would be leaving or staying.

Whether or not they stayed or left was of little concern to him. In fact, he almost preferred it if they left. At least that way he could be free to learn the style without others trying to read him. He then began to wonder if lying in this style was really something that could be done. He doubted it, even in the lie there was still small tells the body could give. A punch that was a little bit too forceful, the half second of hesitation before committing to an action. The body was full of wondrous signs that you simply held no control over.

 

[DaBomb]

Veronica was surprised when the acolyte addressed her, to the point where she didn't respond for a couple of seconds. Coming back to reality, she responded "The same to you." Veronica quickly turned her attention back to the teacher.

Veronica didn't really mind having her past read, she had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. She just hoped no one felt sorry for her, as if their pity could make the pain vanish. To her it was best not to acknowledge the existence of it, at all. In her opinion the gain of knowledge was far superior then "bliss", Something she had no desire to keep. A new fighting style was well worth more then bliss.

 

[Miz]

Returning the bow, he couldn't help but feel that he looked slightly familiar, nonetheless he listened to his instructors words very carefully. He mentioned that in his domain there were no rank, something Mizchno held dearly to. He had worked too hard to obtain this rank and his pride wouldn't allow for him to forgo his superiority. Though, he took steps to remedy his sometimes overbearing pride, it gave him strength. That alone was enough to cling onto something with little to no value in retrospect. Mizchno was a crusader until he was a master. All that was well and good until he felt a slight unease in his stomach when he mentioned the title Sith, perhaps it were nothing.

A slight furry of the brow came upon Mizchno's face as Dawn mentioned that the Echani possessed no actual form. The idea in itself perplexed the crusader to no end. How could he teach something that could not possible be learned? This would make it virtually impossible for an outsider to gauge ones technique. An invaluable tool to add to his arsenal. Mixing Teras Kasi along with Echani could prove deadly to any combatant. Maybe ditching your lightsaber weren't such a terrible idea after all, but he loved them too much, he'd feel naked without it. Looking over towards the door he awaited almost sarcastically for someone to exit. Of course no one would.

Looking back over towards Veronica he let out what would be a silent whisper, but overtaken by the robotics in the Codru-Ji's voice "Now pay attention, this could save your life."