Open Umbara Xi'l mioukue'q ue'l leroe'l, xi'l nouki ue'l m'equxo

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

Spoiler: Title Translation

The Title is in Echani. Translated into Basic means: Too Old to Cry, Too Young to Die.

Survive. Survive. Survive.

When Kreia's had been placed on a ship bound for Republic space, the last thing she expected was to wake up on Umbara in a 'school' for the Sith. Which, Hey. How is this even my life at this point? I've gone from being a refugee to being one of the most hated in the galaxy and all I did was blow out a light fixture when I had a tantrum. Being a teenager was hard. Being a Sith? Absolutely crazy.

Kreia woke up at the same time every day and went to bed at the same time. Her schedule was defined, disciplined, though it was more her own doing as well as her military like upbringing. Being a Sith made her uncomfortable. Her skin crawled at the thought of her traitorous actions against the Empire. However, she didn't crave death and she certainly wanted to live longer. She trained. She kept her head down, she worked, and she waited. It was the best option for her. What did the future hold? She had no idea.

Today started like any other day. Kreia woke up, brushed out her long blond hair, dressed and pulled a hood over her eyes. That was the other thing. Her eyes were an eerie grey, depicting her half-blood status. One of the things that made Sith come easier was the fact that she hated her Imperial mother. Her transgressions became Kreia's sins as well. If the Empire hadn't killed her yet, Kreia would delight in it one day.

Grabbing her bag and saber, Kreia made her way to the grounds where not only could she practice with her saber, but she could watch others. Watch for weaknesses in their forms. It was a highlight of her day, proving to herself that she was better than them.

@René

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Though Azar spent most of his time in the dungeons near where his classroom was, he decided to wander out to tend to his many plants. He was quickly becoming known among the Acolyte circles for his unique teachings on alchemy and other applications of the Force that had nothing to do with waving sabers around. Azar still didn’t carry a saber to this day - favoring a Sith blade or lanvarok instead.

He was adorned in his usual style, watering several imported plants he was growing for uses in potions. The plants and herbs looked beautiful, but if mixed together in a specific way, they could become a robust poison. While Azar always felt like an outsider in the galaxy, the Umbara Academy had an uncanny way of feeling like home sometimes. He had his own quarters and he found his groove with teaching. Azar’s thoughts lingered sometimes on his own ambitions - after all, he had the acumen to topple kingdoms and stay on the Dark Lord's good side. But what did he want?

His thoughts were interrupted with acolytes starting their training rituals again. The saber noises were irritating, but he tolerated it for now. He could hear several acolytes trying to one up one another, increasing their attempts to impress now that a Champion was present. Azar ignored them for now, his fingers brushing against one of the weeds he was growing to test its potency. He hunched over and squeezed the end of it, allowing a sap to drip out into a beaker he held beneath it.

 

[Trodai Narat-iv-Adas]

Trodai wandered out of his temporary accommodation, he had decided at long last to visit the Umbaran Academy. He had only heard of it before now and his former master had spoken of it often, it was a long overdue visit although his previous transgressions had hardly made it easy. Even now it seemed he was learning and feeling the weight of his transgressions.

Yet he had found even when he had no desire for conflict the Force...the Darkness had seen different and sought to place him into such situations. Testing his resolve. So to finally catch a break was a welcomed reprieve.

He was in the gardens, away from the prying eyes of others and the Acolytes all vying for attention. He wanted some quiet at least for now. He was doing a martial Kata, moving his hands, arms and legs about in fluid motions, breathing in the flowers and the air when he noticed a unfamiliar presence pass by and start attending some weeds. And more.

He couldn't be certain but he was sure he spotted some plants from home, which caught his attention. If he wasn't mistaken there stood another Pureblood and so he stopped, observing with a slight fascination, but not too close as to cause offence, he waited and watched not wanting to disturb the man while at work. He just hoped he was more friendly than the last one he had met.

So far he had only found trouble and his transgressions had marked him.

While trying not to disturb as best he was able, he spoke. His Korriban accent coming through.

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, I will leave you if that is your wish. But I couldn't help but notice your plants during my kata. Most unexpected, I did not think that such plants could grow this far from Korriban and in this climate. It is a pleasurable and welcome sight, one needed of late. You certainly look like you know what your doing down there."

@Sreeya

 

[Ayomi Jakarta]

Ayomi couldn't decide if they absolutely despised Umbara or felt a strange sense of home in the halls of the Sith Academy here. In reality, it was probably a combination of both. It was the closest thing to the since-destroyed academy on Dromund Kaas where they'd been forged, where they'd fought through blood, sweat, and lightsaber burns to become an ever-perfecting machine; a warrior of the Sith. These days, the Tiefling watched from the side of the courtyard where acolytes trained in the same forms they used to practice and fought each other for supremacy.

Today's group must've been very new, since their technique was particularly sloppy even for acolytes. Ayomi had half a mind to best each one of the acolytes themself, to put them on the ground clutching light burns from the low setting of a lightsaber. It was how they'd been trained after all, a daily reminder that failure resulted in pain and death. Luckily for these acolytes, the Tiefling was not their teacher; their frequent visits to the Umbara Academy were merely for their own early morning training. They had no particular interest in teaching anyways, though the sight of such poor form with a lightsaber was aggravating. As such, Ayomi simply watched, judging with a disapproving scowl. They wore their usual training outfit, a tight black tank top with black pants and their deep blue hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Out of the corner of their eye, the Tiefling could make out the red-skinned forms of a pair of Pureblood Sith in the neighboring gardens. They could sense a familiar presence through the Force, though it had been several months since they'd last felt it; that Sith acolyte from Korriban perhaps? Ayomi would leave them be for now though, maintaining their position in the courtyard as they visualized how a single strike could defeat each of the acolytes training before them.

@Zory

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Since he began training with his mistress Param, Vossari would periodically return to Umbara to practice fencing. The Echani martial arts style emphasized training with the vibrosword - a literal blade - which handled quite differently to the saber forms he had been trained in. After a long day spent training in the halls, Vossari showered up (returning to their glorious natural scent of flower petals and sea salt) and went outside. They were dressed in typical fashion - an oversized set of baggy streetwear which hid their wiry muscles.

They took out a lump of wrean clay from their bag. Spreading their arms, they used the Force to mold it, pulling and pushing into interesting shapes as they did. They began to take notice of the crowd gathering - were the Sith going to have a party? The atmosphere in the courtyard felt unusually light and pleasant, perhaps a perfect environment for socializing.

Sensing that this would-be shindig needed a vibe, Vossari kicked their boombox to life. While they didn't have the right spread to DJ - no turntables or computer to really spin - they would kick on their playlist as the Sith gathered began to mingle and train. The best way to start was always with a classic.

The music bounced around the courtyard, annoying some and delighting others, as Vossari rose to his feet. All Sith he had scantly seen before, save...potionmaster Kressh (@Sreeya). Seeing him in conversation with another one of his red-skinned cohorts, he decided not to bother.

Instead, he approached the tiefling Champion ( @René ). His clay ball spun in the air between his fingers, snaking in and out and forming interesting, flowing states as he wiggled his fingers. "Ayo, what's up! I'm the DJ," he pointed as his boombox, "and I'm taking requests. Anything you wanna hear?"

@Zory @René @Sreeya @Akheron

 

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

As the two purebloods approached the gardens near the acolytes, Kreia would drop her saber and place it back on her hip. She wanted to not be seen or noticed. She had no desire to impress them. Her motives were her own, her goals were her own and she'd do them her way. She didn't need to impress anyone else. Drawing their ire or praise wasn't on her agenda for the day anyway.

With a put off sigh, Kreiya found a tree to sit under as more and more people began to gather. Apprentices. Acolytes. Champions. They were all drawing near to either train or...play, she noted as she saw the boombox. With a roll of her eyes she looked around. A tiefling caught her eye and for a moment she thought it was someone she could talk to until she realized they were a Sith Champion. Definitely not. Nothing worse than being annoyed by an acolyte. What would be worse was if she impressed him.

She glanced back towards the man with the boombox and finally allowed herself a small smile. She could enjoy the music and perhaps disappear into the crowd. Perhaps she could even slip to the gardens once the purebloods were finished.

@René @Akheron @Fine Dining Set @Sreeya

 

[Nefid]

Someone else was sitting near the tree Kreia had chosen, a pale Twi’lek who didn’t seem to notice or care for her arrival. Cross-legged on the ground, her back straight, the woman could almost be mistaken for a scribe, or for something else serious and much less nonchalant than she was in reality.

Nefid watched the acolytes training though not nearly as closely as they might have liked. Gods, she was bored. Lightsaber training didn’t do much for her, who didn’t practice or enjoy it in the first place. It did, however, provide opportunities.

Her attention was drawn to a particular duel. A fellow Twi’lek was trading blows with a fierce Orcolan acolyte, and every so often she would shoot a glance Nefid’s way, like hoping to catch her eye or to find some unspoken solidarity between them. So far, her acrobatic style proved an effective counter to the Orcolan’s slow but forceful attacks. She weaved her own strikes between his, danced around his blade, evaded it like water. That was, until she froze in place.

The acolyte must have seen something no one else could, because she turned around like the Orcolan had made a great leap to attack her from the side. Only he hadn’t. For a second the Orcolan was confused as to why his opponent would suddenly turn her back on him, but he caught himself quickly. The Sith Academy didn’t exactly teach to be kind to enemies making a mistake. Delighted to have finally cornered this annoying fly, he brought his training saber down in a mighty bonk over the Twi’lek’s head. She collapsed, conscious but stunned.

Finally amused, Nefid locked eyes with her, shook her head in disapproval, and moved on to the next fight.

@Zory @whoeverelse

 

[Feifi Candorus]

It was now that feifi, ever the energetic little shit was seen sprinting with a ton of books she had borrowed for a hour or two for private study, she always was a fast and impatient girl, left turn.. left turn.. right turn.. straight, no wait left! Shit shit!

There was very little the energetic acaloyte could do to correct her course, as 143.6 lbs worth of mandalorian iron slammed into poor kreia, sending the books that feifi were carrying flying about.

Given how poor feifi was likely the smaller of the two, she rebounded and hilariously landed flat on her ass, several of the books falling on her hooded helmet.

"Mother. Kiffer..."
@Zory

@therestig

 

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

So intent on not being discovered, Kreia overlooked the Twi'lek sitting at the tree until another Twi'lek acolyte kept glancing in their direction. At first, Kreia simply focused on both of their moves. The Twi'lek had speed, agility and endurance, but the other acolyte could beat her in brute strength. She made notes in her pad, though wasn't one to do so silently.

"C'mon, it's easy to see where she's wanting to go, knock her down," she muttered towards the large oaf. However, when the Twi'lek danced around him again, she merely smirked. "Too slow. Stop focusing on what you've always used and find that brain of yours." Was she rooting for the man? Definitely not, but to her, the Twi'lek could have put him down sooner had she not kept glancing over. What was she looking at?

Finally, Kreia turned and saw the woman near her. Kriff, she thought and stood up once the two acolytes were done. Just then, a whirlwind of energy barreled into her and Kreia went down in a massive heap. Limbs, hair and books sprawled in front of the Twi'lek champion, but the blond's focus was on the woman who thought closing her eyes while running was a good idea.

Kreia managed to stand first and rounded on the girl. Gripping her shoulders, she hauled the woman up to her feet, her stormy grey eyes locked onto the slightly taller woman as she pushed her against the tree. "That was disrespectful. You got soap for that mouth of yours?"

@Volene @Hastur

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar was visibly surprised when he was addressed by the tall Pureblood. He had run into more of his kind than he ever expected out here, but this man was from a noble line, just like Azar. He noticed the three digit hands and the brutish frame that was a signature of the Massassi people. When the man spoke, Azar expected crude and abrasive mannerisms, but the man was curiously polite.

“You are rather far from home yourself,” He remarked, “Especially someone that I'd expect to be more concerned with planting a crown atop their head,” Azar said snidely. He recognized the accent from the other man - he knew exactly which lineage he hailed from. Purebloods were obsessive about their ancestry. Under most circumstances, the two would be sworn enemies with their respective houses vying to unite Korriban under a single banner.

And yet, they were here instead an entire galaxy away from home. He felt a curious sense of kinship with the other man. But that didn't change the circumstances they found themselves in here.

Azar surveyed him for a moment before extending a vial from the confines of his robes, “Acolyte,” He said sternly, “Drink that for me,” He said, “It is a freshly brewed potion,” That part was true, but Azar hadn’t tested it out enough and this acolyte could prove to be a perfect live test.

@Akheron

 

[Feifi Candorus]

By the time feifi has regained her senses she was pinned against the tree and she heard something about soap, her inner alley rat kicked in, a panic from being so suddenly pinned made her attempt to lash out, though she managed to stop herself from delivering a nasty headbut or kick.

"why would I waste perfectly good soap, and besides soap doesn't taste good.. and only should be eaten in a absolute emergency.."

It then clicked!

"Oooh, kriff, whoopsie, did my words offend you? Kriff I'm sorry."

She was going full troll mode as she continues to resist the urge to give this woman a keldabe headbutt.

@Zory

@therestlol

 

[Serene]

Serene appeared and disappeared from the darkness of Umbara at her own discretion after the last Sith ceremony she attended. Now she found herself once again on the dark world cloaked in shadow. Her cohorts in the Sith Order seldom saw the reclusive woman except at official gatherings.

The woman liked Umbara. It was dark, unique, and isolated to name few things. The technology of its people was unlike any the rest of the galaxy saw and its people were just as interesting. Serene had studied the intricate and nuanced culture of the umbarans, finding it cut throat and often reminding her of the Sith in many ways.

Word around the academy was Azar Kressh was excellent at his job. The recently promoted champion was teaching students in the merits of poisons which Serene found intriguing. The woman liked edged weapons just as much as her lightsabers and adding more skills to her bailiwick was always worth following through on.

Today Serene was not wearing her armor whilst inside the academy and instead wore a simple but elegant outfit. Her right and left hands had vibro claws on most of her digits except for the two smallest fingers on either hand. Both clawed hands swayed at her side as she walked though she began to tap them together at the sound of a rhythm echoing through the halls. The music made it easy to locate the garden. A few paces behind Serene was her C4T droid. It followed, occasionally picking up its speed to catch up to its master but otherwise acting like an ordinary feline.

Serene found the garden to be lively. She raised an amused eyebrow at the energy in the room but did not let any of the distractions stop her from crossing the space towards the two Sith Purebloods. "Greetings, Champion Kressh..." She gave the man a smile and then looked towards the one she did not recognize. "...Hello. What's your name?"

@Sreeya @Akheron

 

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

A blond eyebrow rose and disappeared underneath her black hood. The woman was....something. Kreia wouldn't go so far as to say she was intriguing, but something covered it.

"You called me a mother kriffer," Kreia replied smoothly, her words almost melodic.. As she spoke, the half-Echani watched her body language carefully. The acolyte was enjoying this, perhaps too much. "And you're not sorry. But you can be, if you wanted to be honest," the human smirked, her grin coming off sharp and deadly.

Kreia still let go of her however and backed away. Gracefully, her feet glided over the ground as she put distance between her and the troll. "Unless you're scared?" The blond did not pull out her saber however, instead bringing up her gloved hands, the leather creaking as she balled her fists up. There was nothing to prove here, and Kreia might lose, but then, the other woman would give her something far more in a fight than she might realize.

Kreia's look

@Hastur

 

[Feifi Candorus]

"uh what, I didn't call you jack shit?"

Spoiler: Mood change

she tilted her head, before sighing, can't be helped it seems, the woman wanted a fight, and this poor girl was directly challenging a mandalorian to a fist fight, her goofy and ditsy demeanor immediately fades, as she parts her cloak, which had untill now kept her body hidden, revealing the red and silver mandalorian armor, she silently raised her fists, if this woman wanted a fight then that is what she was going to get, she would crack her knuckles, and allow her to make the first move.

if the woman were to attack, feifi would unleash a brutal uppercut as a counter, using her speed to her advantage.

@Zory @others

​

 

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

While Kreia loathed proving herself to the higher Sith, she couldn't deny that she didn't enjoy fighting almost as much as any Mandalorian. In fact, when the other acolyte revealed her heritage, Kreia only grinned wider. Finally, this might be a challenge and worth her time.

"Veu'k qiz'ekex m'lozonze'q," she said in her native tongue. If there was ever a question of her lineage now, the Echani off of her tongue might implicate her. "Xirunou kaoe'q zeuritou ue'l nuxo xou'k upun lenziu?" She purposefully spoke in her own language. Another test for the Mando to see just how much experience they had with the world.

The blond darted forward, testing the prowess of her fellow acolyte. With her palms flat, she sought to press a nerve strike against her chest, something easily avoidable and baiting the other warrior. She wanted to see how she reacted. The uppercut however was something just as fast and just as strong as one might expect of a mando and Kreia barely avoided getting clocked in the jaw. She cartwheeled to the side and when her feet were in the air, she brought her kick toward's her helmed head.

Spoiler: Echani Translations

Veu'k qiz'ekex m'lozonze'q: Well met warrior
Xirunou kaoe'q zeuritou ue'l nuxo xou'k upun lenziu? : Shall we get to know each other then?

@Hastur

 

[Feifi Candorus]

ah, shame, she managed to avoid it, oh well, it was only the first strike, the echani's words fell on deaf ears, and when the woman would move to deliver her kick, feifi moved her arm up, blocking it and hoping to shatter her cartwheel, or at least leave her in a handstand, she would give a shout in mando'a "<NOT. GOOD. ENOUGH.>", before she kicked, going for the echani's forehead while she was upside down, if the attack were to land, it would hopefully stun her for a follow up stomping attack.

regardless of whether or not she was able to commit to the follow up, she would take a page out of her father's playbook, using her words as well as her fists, she would back up before beckoning her hand.

"come, come, I haven't got all day."

@Zory

 

[Caerllion of Cyfnos]

After a long time, Caerllion finally decided to visit the Academy of Umbara. The perpetual darkness that covered the world was pleasant leaving the place far more attractive than the academy where he learned. The only thing that never changed was the fact that the place was full of Acolytes, and if there was something that he learned was that there would always be trouble around them. Even his times as one had trouble.

A shiver ran down his body, when the Annfyn remembered a certain mission where he received the nickname of mudskipper from his soldiers. At least no one that could mention it was around.

Dressed in an attire that matched his noble status as a member of the House of Cyfnos, Caerllion arrived in the gardens. He looked around, seeing an Echani practicing fighting against a Mandalorian, some other Acolytes and among them red-skinned individuals. At first he thought that they were Zeltrons, but then he remembered from Cyutadakyr. She was a Pureblood and looked similar to them.

He wondered where she was, Cyu probably was a Champion by now.

Caerllion walked through the garden, looking at the plants before finally stopping next to a tree close to the two Purebloods and where he could see the two Acolytes fighting. He was intrigued to see if they are capable of anything good.

Or would end being the next mudskipper of the class.

 

[Nevizkas]

Cyutadakyr arrived, ignoring all but the man she had come to see. The faux invitation made no sense to her pureblood eyes, looking no more coherent than what a loth-kitten rolling across a keyboard might produce.

Azar would spot the mildly irritated woman a mile away, sporting a silky white sundress coming his way, arms crossed.

@Sreeya

 

[Kreia Sera'Wyn]

The two acolytes continued to dance around one another. If one hit, they would dodge the next and vice versa. Truthfully, Kreia was having a blast. This was the most fun she had had since she arrived. For those that had spent time around the blond acolyte would be shocked by her joyous laughter as Freia landed a punch and sent her flying into the dirt.

"Nice," she gasped before flipping back to her feet. All around Kreia melted away as she focused on her opponent. It wouldn't bother her to be beaten, not by a worthy opponent, and certainly not by someone so intriguing. Playful, impatient, she was exhilerating. But how she fought was even more telling. Controlled, focus. Determined. Confident. Kreia loved it. This was likely the most life anyone had seen out of Mrs. Gloom and Doom since she'd been dropped off.

"I didn't catch your name. I suppose if I'm gonna put a face with those moves, I need to remove the helmet, huh?" The blond taunted.

@Hastur

 

[Param Vour]

Well, Vossari certainly had made himself comfortable. Param guessed it would be expected of him. She had picked him up from the Umbara Academy when she has agreed to become their master. Only made since that they knew the place, and wanted to round out their training as a Sith. If he learned the more Darker arts of the Force from someone else, she wouldn't complain. If it wasn't for someone important in the Sith Order emailing everyone instead of a select few, Param wouldn't even be on the planet.

Don't get her started on the hell that was everyone replying-all back to it.

Param recognized a few faces. There was Vossari, of course, her apprentice. She'd leave him to his devices. Then there was Cyu looking like a firaxan shark stalking down its prey, and that prey seemed to be the Potionmaster himself. There was of course the large red man next to the Potionmaster, but Param couldn't quite put her finger down on where she knew him. Was he was the Mindor party? She had to stop thinking about it immediately, remembering the amount of vomit she had to clean out of her hair almost made her gag.

She was in her usual black robes, but instead of a lightsaber hanging on her belt, there was a curved Force forged sword sheathed at her left hip. At first she stood, watching every one. There were Acolytes of course, but she'd gotten her fill of them over the last couple of weeks. Instead she followed Cyu, but not too close because she definitely wanted to eaves drop for at least five steps. Besides, it would be a good time to see what unliking the seed Cyu had given her a while back would do.