WolfMortum
OOC Account
Locale: Virgilia, Bastion Gates.
Nearby: [member="Castor Ren"]
Among his fellow Disciples he was nameless, the new entrance older than most and invited to train at the Bastion due to his experiences and a mind broken and easily shaped anew; the young man stood alongside his new envoy of 'justicars'; those who fought for peace through the iron will of the Supreme Leader of the First Order. His knowledge of the Knights of Ren starting and ending there, only so few days into the service of the Regime, a new Order under a new Empire.
There came a certain freedom in the unending servitude of others, especially those lacking the strength nor knowledge to strike out for themselves any longer. This former student of the Jedi had been broken by the Sith, enslaved and tormented the mind until he learned how to follow. Through their treatment, his days came with many hardships and the repeating truth that he would not return to the life he had lived, nor should he ever fall victim to such arrogance as those the Jedi held towards societies and life within the galaxy. Here, he would learn to use what gifts he could excel at. The Force unrestrained by false hopes and fairy tales, the lightsaber, set loose and striking fear into his enemy. To bring peace to the First Order's sector of space through the leadership and governance of the one who's right hand had become the Knights of Ren, this was his only concern now. This was a path worthy of the cause, one that opportunity had granted him and the denial of anything else had ensured it.
The Bastion was under attack, these creatures of the Ssi-ruu had imposed upon the First Order with rebellious and feral violence. Like so many of the other Disciples, he followed the commands of his superiors to the letter, rising and stepping out into the fight with the lightsaber of the fallen of Svivren held firmly in both hands, plunging deep into the charging horde. [member="Castor Ren"] fought along him and the others, a man of superior talents and a loyalty to the First Order quite probably already proven; Brennan had spoken to few in his arrival, doing only as was asked and otherwise answering his given instructions with one worded answers, refusing none yet acknowledging few of his peers hoping to rise the ranks themselves. It wasn't out of personal spite nor any taste of a superiority complex, the Disciple simply had not adapted to the world outside of captivity and therefore still held the same behaviors, the same resentments that showed through his combating the beasts attempting to overrun them.
He had yet to be issued his field gear, yet to be granted any armors nor clothes, nothing that which he had not already owned in his possession; yet stepping to the left of Castor Ren with his head bare of any helm, torso holding only the most simple of vests, padded and reinforced with foreign leathers, yet not suited for the true ferocity of war; his survival counted on the swift and strong strikes that his blade of amber dealt in offensive form. Instinctive, he brought the lightsaber to bare high, the stance that was once taught to him as Djem So. His eyes watched and he waited ready for the next wave. They did not disappoint and neither would he. The lightsaber came down as he stepped sideways closer to that of Castor Ren, so that his strike would be aimed away from his peer and through his evasion of the beasts jaws, he swung the weapon down to cleave through it's neck, ending it's life then and there.
While the beast had been slain, the battle had only just came to life. No longer isolated and alone, he turned and stood baring arms to the invasion, the Disciples alongside the Knights of Ren bolstered by numbers and determined to reign.
Nearby: [member="Castor Ren"]
Among his fellow Disciples he was nameless, the new entrance older than most and invited to train at the Bastion due to his experiences and a mind broken and easily shaped anew; the young man stood alongside his new envoy of 'justicars'; those who fought for peace through the iron will of the Supreme Leader of the First Order. His knowledge of the Knights of Ren starting and ending there, only so few days into the service of the Regime, a new Order under a new Empire.
There came a certain freedom in the unending servitude of others, especially those lacking the strength nor knowledge to strike out for themselves any longer. This former student of the Jedi had been broken by the Sith, enslaved and tormented the mind until he learned how to follow. Through their treatment, his days came with many hardships and the repeating truth that he would not return to the life he had lived, nor should he ever fall victim to such arrogance as those the Jedi held towards societies and life within the galaxy. Here, he would learn to use what gifts he could excel at. The Force unrestrained by false hopes and fairy tales, the lightsaber, set loose and striking fear into his enemy. To bring peace to the First Order's sector of space through the leadership and governance of the one who's right hand had become the Knights of Ren, this was his only concern now. This was a path worthy of the cause, one that opportunity had granted him and the denial of anything else had ensured it.
The Bastion was under attack, these creatures of the Ssi-ruu had imposed upon the First Order with rebellious and feral violence. Like so many of the other Disciples, he followed the commands of his superiors to the letter, rising and stepping out into the fight with the lightsaber of the fallen of Svivren held firmly in both hands, plunging deep into the charging horde. [member="Castor Ren"] fought along him and the others, a man of superior talents and a loyalty to the First Order quite probably already proven; Brennan had spoken to few in his arrival, doing only as was asked and otherwise answering his given instructions with one worded answers, refusing none yet acknowledging few of his peers hoping to rise the ranks themselves. It wasn't out of personal spite nor any taste of a superiority complex, the Disciple simply had not adapted to the world outside of captivity and therefore still held the same behaviors, the same resentments that showed through his combating the beasts attempting to overrun them.
He had yet to be issued his field gear, yet to be granted any armors nor clothes, nothing that which he had not already owned in his possession; yet stepping to the left of Castor Ren with his head bare of any helm, torso holding only the most simple of vests, padded and reinforced with foreign leathers, yet not suited for the true ferocity of war; his survival counted on the swift and strong strikes that his blade of amber dealt in offensive form. Instinctive, he brought the lightsaber to bare high, the stance that was once taught to him as Djem So. His eyes watched and he waited ready for the next wave. They did not disappoint and neither would he. The lightsaber came down as he stepped sideways closer to that of Castor Ren, so that his strike would be aimed away from his peer and through his evasion of the beasts jaws, he swung the weapon down to cleave through it's neck, ending it's life then and there.
While the beast had been slain, the battle had only just came to life. No longer isolated and alone, he turned and stood baring arms to the invasion, the Disciples alongside the Knights of Ren bolstered by numbers and determined to reign.