Adventure In The Forest!

[Dezoti]

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Voss​

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[member="Ryn'Dhal"]​

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If there was ever a place to feel comfortable in as a planet jumper, it was the forest. At least that was the way for Krest. Having grown up on desert planets like Tatooine and more desolate and violent planets like Iridonia, the peaceful planet of Voss and it's vast woodlands were just so.. Refreshing. Calming even. Since coming to the planet there was a bit of unease, especially when he revealed his past to one of the elder members of the Silver Jedi. He had expected to be tossed away, jailed, executed, or any mixture of it, yet he wasn't. He was given a home, and a new goal in life.

And so here he was, wondering around the forests of Voss without a real care in the world. He was still dressed in his usual desert clothing despite the trees and moisture of the air though. Krest was comfortable in it, couldn't go wrong with what was comfortable. On his hip was of course his sword, something he just couldn't be without as a Knight. No matter how peaceful it may seem, things could change in a blink of an eye.

And it would, sooner than he thought.

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Deep in the woods was where the young Jedi lived most days. He only ever really returned to the temple to rest, and to eat. Beyond that, he'd typically leave shortly before dawn every day, returning once mid-day before leaving again, and back before dusk to eat and head to his bunk. So, again, he was out, in his clearing. The clearing he met the two younglings in so long ago, as the other him. He trained alone, durasteel blades singing through the air, as he danced his martial dance. His cloak danced about him, as he practiced his variant of the fourth form, Ataru. The dance, filled with acrobatic leaps and tumbles, made him a whirling vortex of slashing blades, sweeping kicks, and difficult to predict movements.

He danced throughout the clearing, as though engaging multiple unseen opponents, his form would have seemed unwieldy and feeble to one untrained in the art of the blade. But, to the versed eye, it was clear the masked figure knew full well what he was doing. He continued his dance, so focused on the song of his blades through the air, that he was completely unaware that he was no longer alone in his neck of the woods....

[member="Krest"]​

 

[Dezoti]

It was the sound of metal slicing through air that had brought Krest to the clearing. Silence was what he had heard through his entire nature walk, but upon reaching the deeper part of the forest what could only be described as cutting air could be heard against the nothingness. Curiosity filled the Zabrak's mind as he walked towards the sound. Who or what could be making such a noise? Instinctively his right hand went to rest upon the hilt of his blade, just in case. Through the bushes he went, trying to be as quiet as possible. Not that he was any good at such things anymore, and a loud snap sounded off as he stepped on a twig.

Well, kark.

No point in hiding now. Krest stepped out into plain view, finding [member="Ryn'Dhal"] to be the source. The Templar couldn't help but marvel at the apparent skill. Ataru was such a rare form nowadays, and as a user himself he couldn't help but enjoy seeing another of the skill. He was staring, and quickly caught himself on the rude action by clearing his throat loudly, just in case the masked man hadn't heard his initial approach.

"You're pretty good with those blades. I take it you're a Jedi then?"

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Peace, found through exertion. Calm, found through action. The young Jedi trained, pushing himself, the blades nearly screaming with their velocity, lost in the song of steel. Then, the sound of another. Ryn's senses had missed the approach, but now that the unknown threat was suddenly here, the cloaked figure would shift mid-sweep of his blades into a diving tumble, coming up several meters from his starting point, both swords held in reverse grip, crossing his front in a defensive posture. Golden eyes narrowed as he stared, recognizing the man vaguely from near the temple grounds.

"Tck.... At least I did not throw my sword this time...." He'd mutter, shaking his head. A flourish of his blades would end with both swords finding their homes once again in sheaths crossing behind him, at the small of his back. The motion revealed a twin pair of curved lightsaber hilts at his hips. He'd approach the red-skinned man, tugging his gloves more securely into place as he approached. "Yes, you could say that. I have trained under many of the Masters here on Voss.... And you?" He'd inquire, reaching through the Force, sensing, probing, trying to get a good idea of this man, his aura, his intent. It seemed the man sought solitude.

"A kindred spirit, perhaps? No.... not quite.... You sought solitude, peace and calm, yes.... But, you don't have the same clouds I see...." the masked Jedi mused, nodding slightly. Finally he extended a hand towards the oddly dressed man. "Ryn'Dhal. And yourself?"


[member="Krest"]

 

[Dezoti]

"I've had lots of training, but not under any of the masters here.." Krest trailed off as he felt something. Or at least he thought he did. The Force seemed to shift about him in a rather subtle way, so much so that he chose to ignore it. That was, until [member="Ryn'Dhal"] began to speak about what was on the Zabrak's mind. He was reading my mind? Ryn would find the Templars hand in his own, giving a firm shake. "Names Krest." A smile was on the mans face as he introduced himself, but that quickly faded into a glare as the grip on the cat's hand began to tighten. "And, it's rude to read other peoples minds. Don't do that again." The thing with the Zabrak was how clear of a weakness his mind truly was. He had no mental defense asides from Teras Kasi, but that involved concentration. If he wasn't paying attention, his mind was just an open door anyone could walk in and leave muddy tracks within.

He was a bit touchy about it.

The smile would return and the grip would release as Krest stepped back, his blue eyes darting around the area. "So why are you out here? Solo training?"

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

The glare was returned, before giving a scoff at the red-skinned man's query. "I come out here seeking solitude, as I had assumed you were. I, my friend, am no mentalist. I only perceive what you show. Through the Force. If you do not want me to notice that, then be elsewhere." His eyes remained narrowed behind his mask. "It is rude to make unfounded accusations of others. Don't do that again."

As soon as the words escaped his lips, an exasperated sigh would leave the young Jedi's lips. Reaching up and wrenching his mask free, tossing it and his cloak aside to reveal his feline features, his glare would soften slightly, more akin to a scowl than a wrathful stare. "I'll ask forgiveness, as I've been through..... much.... But it does not excuse me lashing out for minimal reason.... The Master's implored of me to get my anger under control...." Ears would be shifting about, taking in the sounds of the clearing, ensuring no threats could approach unnoticed. Large, molten gold eyes remained locked onto the Zabrak though. "I will clarify my earlier statement, so we might try this... Introduction, once more...."

Clearing his throat, as his tail would uncoil from about his waist, flicking idly at the grass about his ankles, the young felinoid would begin his reiteration. "I assumed you were like me, one seeking to find peace with himself, with his own inner conflict. But, I don't perceive a cloud of taint. Of rage and wrath, lingering throughout your aura." Giving a wry grin, revealing enlarged canine fangs, he'd chuckle slightly. "I do not possess any gifting in the art of reading minds. So you can rest assured I wont be doing it a second time, let alone a first."

After removing his gloves, and flexing his dexterous, furred fingers, he'd extend his hand once more. "Shall we give this another go then? I am Ryn'Dhal, of the Silver Sanctum Jedi." He would re-introduce himself, attempting a warm smile, but not quite managing the warmth he would have exuded once, long ago.


[member="Krest"]

 

[Dezoti]

A cat person? Well, he had seen a couple in his life time, but he hadn't expected the cloaked figure to be one. Or maybe he did? He wasn't sure anymore. But now he listened to [member="Ryn'Dhal"] , blinking. Another plagued by the dark, but unable to feel the dark within Krest's own soul. Maybe he wasn't really a mind reader after all. A smile formed on his lips as Ryn offered a hand and a new introduction. Well, might as well do the same. Krest took the hand in another firm shake, this time not to be threatening.

"Krest, last of the Templars."

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

"Templar?" He'd repeat the word, curious of the implication. Then with a slight shake of his head, he'd look over his shoulder to the clearing. "The exertion aids in getting.... well.... my.... issues.... and little more under control. The perfecting of the forms helps immensely. Though, I think I may be ready to start looking into Shien and Djem So...." He'd muse, contemplating his methodology in his saberplay.

Taking a few steps into the clearing, he'd glance back towards Krest, a smile still upon that feline face. "If you wish, you may stay and train if that was a part of your intent in venturing this deep into the woods. I do not require all of this clearing to myself." He'd offer, a light, musical laugh accompanying his naturally melodic tones. He was, at his core, a creature of peace.... But, to the truly sensitive.... He was damage. Broken. And slowly on the mend.

"If you so desire, even, we could cross blades? It would likely prove beneficial for both of us." Ryn'Dhal considered, ears cocking at odd angles as he stroked his chin. "After all, a warrior can see another's truest self amid combat. Perhaps a friendly duel, to cement ourselves an enduring friendship." That grin cut across his face again, long canine fangs visible in the action.

[member=Krest]

 

[Dezoti]

"A duel huh? Alright, that would be fun. So, why not right?" A grin had taken over the features of the Zabrak as [member="Ryn'Dhal"] suggested such a confrontation. His bloodline burned at the thought of battle, and upon accepting the duel Krest pulled free his sword. The dull bladed weapon slid against it's sheath as it was removed, and with a light twist of his wrist the Templar let the blade arc around his form. He took up a rather neutral stance, one hand on the blade, the other free and down by his side. His feet weren't anything really to mention either. But to one trained in the way of the blade, it was clear the middle aged man had spent decades learning the art of war.

"Any rules?"

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

Ryn would eye the unique weapon curiously, ears cocking this way and that. "I.... am unfamiliar with.... that.... particular design...." Genuine confusion cross his face. He was unsure how to approach the duel now. Sabers on minimal power would have enabled the two to go all out, with only numbness and minor stinging and burning sensations to be the residual effects of such combat. But that? Sure, it might not cut.... but broken bones are still incredibly painful.

Scratching the back of his head, he looked genuinely at a loss. "I do believe you would be at a distinct advantage in our spar, as you will definitely do significantly more harm to myself, than I would to you, with a successful blow...." He did desire to cross blades with the red-skinned warrior, but he didn't really enjoy the prospect of having to heal yet another broken bone this month. "I guess, if there are no other options... we can spar till first blow? As I am certain that even if your blade wont cut my flesh, it will definitely render me disabled should you make solid contact."

A slight shrug would be given, as he remained completely uncertain as to how to overcome the prospect of a material blade in a 'friendly duel'.

[member=Krest]​

 

[Dezoti]

"I wouldn't worry about me hitting you with this blade. It's far less lethal than most assume, especially when I'm wielding it. The mark of a good swordsman is control after all, and this would be a good test for us both, no?" He lifted up one of his hands then, specifically, the left one. The metal limb glimmered slightly in the light. Mechanical. Then the Zabrak tapped his leg with the same hand. Metal clanged against metal. "Asides, both my arm and leg are mechanical. My unarmed is far less controlled than my skill with a blade. Asides, I'm curious about your skill with those swords. If it helps, I'll only defend."

 

[Ryn'Dhal]

"Well, it wouldn't be much fun if you only defended, though it would grant me opportunity for focus more on my Ataru.... But, I cannot be lax in my practice of Soresu." The felinoid would show a flash of fang, grinning, as one of his ears gave a unconscious flick. He would then take on of his saber-hilts in his hands, dexterous fingers swiftly adjusting the power-emitters settings, lowering them to the lowest usable setting. While doing this, his equally dexterous and capable tail had taken his secondary blade-hilt, placing it into his right hand, while left hand simultaneously returned the first blade to it's home at his left hip. The process of adjusting was repeated for his second saber. "Worst case scenario, should I make contact with you, a sharp, stinging sensation will be all that you'll receive."

Returning the second saber to it's home, he'd lock eyes once more with the Templar. "As for rules, I am unsure. If I am not mistaken, and please correct and rebuke my question and assumption if you find either offensive or wrong.... But don't cybernetic appendages inhibit the use of the Force? And, if so, perhaps we should refrain from using the Force actively against each other. No telekinesis, no personal augmentation. Just perception, and our weapons?" Ears would reflexively cock at odd angles, as he observed the man, unsure of how to proceed. He would wait to see if this was acceptable. If so, he had every intention of allowing the Templar, [member=Krest], to take the lead in their bladed-dance.