Training as an Assassin

[Storm]

The knowledge needed to be an assassin was a hard thing to catch; it couldn't be intuitively learnt, merely taught. As such, Yfyr, despite having the power needed, required the training. The Temple was Dark, Shadowy, Yfyr rested in the corner of the training room, ready. His master would come, he would learn, and then...

Then he would be an assassin in name.

He had returned to the Bogan after many years away, many years learning Dark secrets of knowledge that he would never pass on. He would take this new knowledge with relish, he would embrace it.

The Dark Side would empower him.

 

[Ols]

Nescius Caedo was observing the crusadrer, shrouded in a cloak as though it was a hallowe'en costume. Hidden, both in the force and to the eye, Nescius could watch without ever revealing himself to the expectant student. But Nescius was not here to watch him as if he were drying paint, he was here to teach him. And so he stepped out of the shadows, allowing himself to simultaneously materialise both in the force and in the flesh, as if from thin air, before Yfyr. Not simple parlour tricks, but the tools of an assassin, the tools of one of the best.

"Ah," Nescius said patronisingly, "the one with the ridiculous name," he raised his hand so a footlocker slid across the floor and settled before Yfyr, "remove all of your possessions, clothes, weapons, belts, bandoleers and whatever else you carry around and place them into that box. Then, put these on," he offered what were essentially a pair of old lycra sports shorts, to cover the crusader's nudity.

 

[Storm]

Yfyr smiled. He would humour this man, for now. After all, there was no point in fighting back when this man possessed the knowledge he wanted; if he were to end up dead then Yfyr would not learn what he wished to know. He would let the fool talk, for if the man thought him weak, subservient then it would be better for his own devices. His own presence in the Force was carefully shielded; he appeared weaker than he was.

He was not yet ready.

The foot locker sprang open as Yfyr utilised the Force upon it, before the sound of his clothes exchanging themselves with the shorts was heard. A simple robe was wrapped around his possessions, hiding their nature and what they were.

Not once had he spoke.

 

[Ols]

This crusader was indeed an arrogant one. The blank expression on his face, the way he said nothing and the way he had fought to shield any emotion when Nescius had dug at his name. No matter, all crusaders seemed to think that just because they were crusaders of the Bogan then that automatically made them worthy of respect from the masters. Enough of them had glittering former careers as great Jedi, some even knights and masters, and yet they were useless if they were not broken down, slates wiped clean and inducted into the ways of the Bogan. As this crusader clearly had not been.

"Follow," Nescius said, and led the crusader out of the temple and into the surrounding areas. They walked far from the temple towards mountain ranges, bearded with forests and capped with ice. Nescius, not a particularly tall man, but one still in his best physical condition, wearing his customary boots, trousers and sleeveless top, had little trouble wandering across the rocky plains towards their target. Yet Yfyr had no shoes to protect his feet as they walked. At the entrance to the forest, Nescius looked at him.

"About four kilometers into the forest, if you keep a straight bearing from here, you'll hit a clearing. Make for that clearing with best speed. And be warned, there is much in the way of natural life dwelling in these forests. Tell of boma beasts, kath hounds, kinrath, vipers and even a lurking rancor or two. Who knows what else besides. Do not carve a swath of destruction as you go. Elude any predatory beasts."

 

[Storm]

Yfyr nodded. His scarred torso had muscle definition that reflected his physical ability, following the man who was, in name, his "Master". The rocks were sharp, and his feet bled, yet Yfyr had endured much pain, much suffering, and this mattered little to him. He had felt the prying tendrils of the Force his Master used to try and break into his conscious thought, yet he had remained strong.

His master gave him the instructions. Once again, he merely nodded.

He set off into the forest without a backwards glance, gathering the Force about him to shield himself. His footfall was quietened, his scent lessened, and he set off through the forest cautiously, quietly. Yfyr could, about him, feel little more than kinrath, boma beasts and Kath hounds, although his master had not been lying. Some way away he could feel Rancors.

Yfyr smiled to himself.

Animals would be just so easy to fool. Chancing upon a Kinrath, Yfyr waited until it was right next to him before snuffing it's life out with the Force. He breathed in, deeply, his nostrils widening as he scented the dead Kinrath's scent and allowed it to make it's way out of the body. With his grisly talisman, Yfyr held it with the Force some twenty yards in front of him.

The Kinrath would be repulsed, and would not bother him.

The Kath hounds, however, would be a problem. Silently stalking through the forest, Yfyr used the Force to press silently against the conciousness' of those Kath hound's around - drawing them to him. Nearby there was a nest of Kinrath, far too many for him to combat. The path Yfyr was tantalising the Hounds along with the Kinrath's killscent would take them right past the opening. They would jump at the chance for a kill.

The Kath hounds would not trouble him.

Yfyr had walked some way before he felt the presence of a Boma beast up ahead. Such creatures really were unwieldy. He could feel his master watching from afar, and so would utilise skills to bypass it with skill, and not merely avoiding. He could see it in the distance, and drew a rock from the ground. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it at the beast, the rock striking it's head. The beast snorted in anger, turning around, and Yfyr stalked around it to it's flank. Now he could go little further without distracting it yet more.

Another rock and the beast turned again, and he was through.

Emerging in the clearing, Yfyr nodded to himself. A simple exercise.

 

[Ols]

((My character didn't reach out to yours in the force...at all))

Simple indeed. Because this introduction was barely the beginning of Yfyr's time within this forest. Nescius marched out of the shadows into the clearing where the Crusader stood.

"A dead kinrath and a pack of kath hounds attacking a nest they would otherwise avoid. In a few minutes you've upset the balance of the entry to this forest indeed. Not quite the subtle insertion an assassin should have into any environment, were you tracking intelligent prey you would already be discovered. And yet your training has only just begun," he paused and took what looked like a water pistol from his belt, and he squirted Yfyr in the chest, either arm and the legs. The liquid smelled foul, and before the unspeaking crusader could even think about asking, Nescius said, "this is a synthesized odor that attracts carnivorous beasts. Like what you've already enountered and more besides, it's notorious for sending rancors into feeding mode, not that they're all that you'll come across here. Oh and I wouldn't try to wash it off with water, it doesn't react to well with it. Anyway, I'll be back in around three days to see how you're getting on, and remember, you're meant to be an assassin, not a marauder. So keep a low profile, dark Jedi masters often come wandering in these lands, and they won't care what happens to you if they find you lurking about."

He left Yfyr in the darkening forest and wandered back to the rocky plains, outside of the forest, where he knelt under a little cave-like shelter and meditated, observing the situation of the forest, watching the crusader.

 

[Storm]

((OOC: 'Tis paranoia.))

Yfyr smiled; once again, this was of no major consequence to him. As he set off into the woods, he looked around him; despite the fact that the scent would negate any cloaking or silencing he could work upon himself, all he needed to find was an opening in the ground... There. Yfyr clambered down into the cave, and laughed to himself; he could feel the creatures approaching from around, yet that would be of little use to them. There was a crashing crumble as the roof collapsed some way in front of Yfyr, sealing him within the rock face. Yfyr saw the tunnel extended some way into the rock; the beasts wouldn't be able to smell him through the rock face.

Yfyr sat down and began his meditations and other general Force practices.

 

[Ols]

Initially attracted by the scent, and now set into motion by the grumbling at the mouth of the cave, its natural inhabitants made their way towards the newcomer into their territory, the one who had sealed them in. The one who smelled a lot like food. The one who had poked a nest of wasps and was now sitting with honey pasted upon his skin. Down the tunnel, from offshoots and small inlets all the way down, a great many kinrath began to flood what had once been an exit into the forest. They flooded the newcomer, he was prey to them, he smelt of food, he had invaded their territory and they were angry, frenzied and hungry. And as a hive, they attacked.

 

[Storm]

((OOC: Entrance is blocked by rocks, as it says. =P))

 

[Ser Yorick]

Yet there was something else nearing the cave. This creature was outside and had heard all the commotion. Slowly, the pile of rocks and rubble that the Crusader had knocked down to collapse the entrance to the cave began to lift up and be removed. As the Kinrath converged on Yfyr enough of the stones were removed for the creature to make its way inside. What now stood in the entrance to the cave was a dark figure, with two yellowish glowing eyes. "You are a fool," they said. But the Kinrath did not attack this new figure, and in fact seemed to be repulsed by its mere presence.

 

[Storm]

The beasts swarmed around Yfyr, yet he had expected as much, and was not particularly worried. Normally he would have killed them, however he had to be subtle for this training. He pushed back on the ring with the Force, a variation of Force push that, instead of sending one flying backwards, merely held them back. Despite the scent, the creatures did not attack. That had brought him the time he wanted; after all, what he would be doing over the next three days needed a certain degree of wasting time.

Yfyr felt the new figure before he saw him.

Finally! Here was someone of a decent strength, someone he could respect. He smiled to himself as the figure spoke. A fool? He would have to tolerate yet more of these comments whilst he needed abilities from the one who would call himself his Master, but then... then he would not. The creatures seemed repulsed by his presence; a simple enough trick, but one Yfyr was unable to use due to the scent on his person.

Yfyr opened a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, a collection of mud and small stones, as he surveyed the figure.

His purpose Yfyr could not discern, however it was of little consequence to him. Generally he would have broken a big enough whole in the ceiling, however subtlety was what was needed. Slowly Yfyr opened it, piling the detritus on one side of the whole - something he would not normally have done either. The line of fire wavered as Yfyr's concentration shifted, yet it was of little consequence. The hole was big enough, now, and Yfyr jumped out of it before moving the debris back into the hole. He was sure that the figure he'd seen would follow, and his use of the Force to maintain such things had left him more tired than he would normally be.

Night had fallen.

The second day would be coming upon him, and Yfyr would generally have had little to care about he who he had met. Now, however, he had to remain in one place, and his plans would be complicated. There. His Force connection had recovered enough for a simple enough feat, a feat that wouldn't give the creatures of the forest time to lock on to his scent. He began running, then, the Force augmenting his speed. As long as he didn't directly stumble upon any creatures, there would be no problem. He avoided large vegetation clusters, so as not to leave a mark of where he had gone. The ground was wetter, now, marshier. Yfyr slowed, smoothing the marsh behind him with the Force.

A rest would help him gain better strength through the Force.

He hadn't done much, and wasn't particularly exhausted, however Yfyr wished for his strength to be at the pinnacle of what it could be. There. A lake stood before him; water he'd have to avoid. But, in the centre... an island. Yfyr could feel the lifeforms of many fish, however the island was devoid of life. Animals could not cross the water to reach the island, and fish could not live on land. The island was shielded with a few trees, bushes, and not particularly large. It was perfect. But how to cross it? There. A rock spar stood about half way out. If Yfyr landed on it, jumped before any fish could attack and then reach the island. Neither was particularly far out. A basically augmented Force jump could do it.

And it did.

As Yfyr stepped on to the island, he sat in the centre and began meditations.

 

[Ser Yorick]

But Yfyr did none of these things before the dark figure reacted; nothing except the weak display of Force repulsion. The Acolyte was untrained and thus, his powers were nothing compared to the Dark Master that now stood before him. Even a lowly Crusader had more control over the Force than Yfyr, and it was about time he came to realise this fact and stopped gallivanting around like he was a highly skilled Marauder sent on a mission to disturb the entire forest. He was being trained as an Assassin, and as such he should not have called so much attention to himself. The mere fact that he sought refuge in a cave without checking it for inhabitants showed his inexperience, not to mention the fact that he had collapsed the entrance, forever changing the natural landscape. A skilled Assassin would adapt to his surroundings, and not sought to have it adapt to him.

The figure that stood in the entrance to the cave was in fact Serpentis, Dark Master of the Bogan, and he was very, very disappointed. The dark figure held up a hand and suddenly a powerful and invisible force was blasted at the Acolyte, strong enough to smash him into the wall of the cave and hold him there until it decided to let go.

 

[Storm]

Yfyr had to use all his mental strength not to fight back. It was vital that they thought him little more than a weak Crusader, little more than what they already thought he was. He had done well so far, with the illusion. He must not spoil it now. As he was held against the wall, he smiled to himself; good. He had not broken the illusion.

"Perhaps it would be best if I were to train as a Marauder."

 

[Ser Yorick]

"You are a fool," the dark figure repeated. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you for wasting the time of the Dark Masters." Yfyr was indeed a fool. It was sad to watch him fail at every task he had been given, but it was sadder still to listen as he admitted to wanting to change his training specialization. Did he not realise this was the Dark Jedi of the Bogan? They were not as forgiving as the Jedi; patience was not part of their code, and neither was compassion.

 

[Storm]

"Regardless of the change, I will have learnt skills to aid the Bogan."

Yfyr shrugged.

"Nevertheless, I understand the reasons for your anger on the matter. Once so powerful as you should not have to deal with trivialities."

Although it galled him to act subservient, Yfyr did not want to have to fight back and reveal his hand just yet. It would be better if this ended without combat. Oh, the irony...