Private Warriors of the Plains

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

In the vast expanse of the galaxy, on the windswept grasslands of Dantooine, Padawan Roman found himself adrift in a sea of uncertainty. The burden of his recent experiences on the moon of Bogan weighed heavily on his young mind. He had participated in a conflict that felt dizzying in its brutality, a harrowing confrontation with the stark realities of war. The cries of the fallen echoed in his thoughts, and he wrestled with the uneasy feelings born from the act of taking lives, even in self-defense.

The council had granted him a brief leave from his training--what many considered a well-earned respite. But for Roman, the picturesque beauty of Dantooine was a mere backdrop to the turmoil inside. Casting aside the allure of relaxation, he sought something deeper, something that would allow him to reconcile the darkness of his experience. Whispers had reached his ears, tales laced with mystery, of an abandoned outpost tucked away amidst the rolling hills of wild grass.

As the small shuttle settled onto the gentle terrain, Roman felt a calmness wash over him momentarily. The cerulean skies stretched above, and sunlight wove golden threads into the verdant fields. But within him, a storm raged. He stepped out of the shuttle, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that carried with it the earthy scent of soil. This was a place of peace, or so he hoped.

After trudging for miles into the unspoiled wilderness, he arrived at the outpost--a humble wooden structure, half-hidden by blending into the nature around it. The wood creaked softly as he pushed the door open and descended the stairs, revealing what seemed to be a forgotten world of dusty tomes and faded scrolls. Shelves lined with ancient texts greeted him, standing sentinel over a time long past.

For the next several days, Roman immersed himself in study. He combed through the remnants of knowledge, eager to stitch together a narrative that might illuminate the path ahead. Yet, it was not until he discovered a tome tucked away in a corner, covered in a thick layer of dust, that a sense of destiny stirred in him. Its title, "The Art of Mesasa" resonated through the Force as if the very essence of the text called out to him.

Mesasa (similar to Aikido) was more than a martial art; it was a philosophy that blended harmony with one's environment. It conveyed the importance of understanding one's opponent not as an enemy but as a partner in the dance of combat. The techniques, rooted in joint locks, throws, and strikes, were designed to redirect the force of aggression into a graceful response. It was a kinetic conversation between the practitioner and the opponent, where each action led naturally into the next.

With newfound purpose, Roman camped outside the outpost, choosing to live off the land as he dedicated himself to mastering the ancient style. He practiced day and night, feeling the ebb and flow of the Force around him as he attempted to guide his body through the fluid motions that Mesasa required. Each strike and movement brought with it a sense of release, a chance for him to find peace within the storm of his thoughts.

However, even amidst the beauty of the grasslands, an unsettling presence lingered in the back of his mind. It was a familiarity he could not shake, one that he had felt in this area of the galaxy before. Something was near, a lurking feeling that piqued his curiosity. But Roman pressed on, determined to push through his growing frustration.

Each day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, he felt that presence creeping closer--its intensity matching his frustrations. What did it want? Was it an adversary? A specter of the past? Or perhaps another challenge he needed to face?

Amidst the tranquility of Dantooine's grasslands, Roman found that the greatest battles often raged not against external foes but within the depths of one's own soul. And as he continued to delve into the pages of the tome, the truth began to dawn on him: the greater the darkness he faced, the more he needed to embody the principles of Mesasa--redirecting that negativity into understanding and ultimate acceptance.

As he continued to train, Roman realized that balance was essential. The power of the Force lay not only in mastery over oneself but also in embracing compassion for others, even those deemed enemies. The ancient texts spoke not only of combat but of unity, the ties that bound all beings together in a galaxy often torn apart by conflict.

Soon, as the wind rustled through the tall grass, he would inevitably confront the source of that unsettling presence. He steeled himself, knowing that the lessons of Mesasa would guide him--not just in combat but in finding clarity and redemption through understanding.

 

[Darth Reign]

Location: Bastion
Tags: Roman Vossari

---

The Crucible was underway. Alongside Darth Nocturne and Darth Rellik the Diarch had finalized the plans and construction had begun. As he stood in his newly hewn private quarters, the Dark Lord allowed himself a moment of peace. His wife and children were with him, and his academy was coming to life. Soon new acolytes would learn to walk the path of the Diarchy.

Lady Nightmare and Lady Shadow were adjusting some furniture so that they sat in front of their parents. Anxious for the next steps. Reign had just opened his mouth to speak to them when he felt something in the force. A presence he felt some time ago in a small market. "Roman" he said out loud. Nocturne knew instantly who he was talking about, for there were no secrets between the two. The children, however, were slower on the uptake.

"Roman?.. The Padawan from the market?" Lady Nightmare said. "You can feel him all the way from here father?" she asked. Believing the young jedi to be in the middle of Galactic Alliance space.

"Normally, no.. but he is near by, two or three quadrants at most.. I can feel his frustration." he stroked his beard with his right hand thinking. "Children, gather your things, young Roman may have a need of us" he stood, kissing his wife goodbye, she knew he'd be back, and headed towards the door.

"Yes Father" The children said, before hugging their mother and hurrying after their father.

---

Reign was onboard his shuttle, willing the force to show him where Roman was. Dantooine.. an old Jedi holdout.
"A planet rich in history and steeped in the light side of the force, girls, we are going to Dantooine."
another new planet for the girls and one that Reign himself had only been to once before.

It would be a good trip for them, he thought, as he pressed the lever to send the ship into hyperspace.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman pushed his body through an array of agile maneuvers, his brow glistening with sweat that danced down his brow. He was alone here, far from the bustling halls of the New Jedi Order. His solitude was both a blessing and a burden.

Each leap, each precise strike against the air, was meant to connect him deeper to the Force, bridging the gap he felt growing within himself. Today, like every day since he arrived, he was determined to refine his physical form, to shape himself into a vessel deserving of the legacy of the Jedi. The grasslands stretched endlessly around him, a vast canvas upon which he painted the essence of his training--infusing every motion with intention. Yet, beneath the steady rhythm of his practice, a nagging unease settled in his chest.

Nights descended like a thick fog in the grasslands, and around the crackling fire, Roman found solace in the pages of The Art of Mesasa, an ancient tome that captivated him each night. He sought enlightenment in the fluid movements described within, patterns and techniques that unraveled like stories told through ages. But while the words leapt from the page and ignited sparks in his mind, the absence of a sparring partner reminded him starkly of the limitations of his solitude. Learning required kinship and cooperation, elements that danced just out of his grasp and sometimes felt almost cruel.

His mind flickered to the battles fought on Bogan, where he'd taken lives without hesitation, a product of duty and fear. Those faces haunted him, shimmering just beyond the edge of sleep, woven into the very fabric of his broken rest. His dreams were a battlefield, endless and unforgiving, where soldiers--brothers and sisters of another cause--fell at his hands. The guilt gnawed at his spirit, and each night's struggle only deepened the shadow that loomed over his training.

As days turned into a monotonous rhythm and nights melted into an unrestful blur, frustration poured into Roman's physical training. The katas he once executed with fluid elegance became stilted and clumsy, a vestige of the confident Padawan he had been. He could feel the strain of fatigue in his limbs, the mental weight of his unresolved battles coiling around his focus like a serpent. Every leap felt heavier, every strike lost its precision, drenching him in a soul-deep weariness that ratcheted his temper tighter.

One afternoon, worn to the bone, he crumpled to the soft grass, the sun bathing him in warmth as it began to dip below the horizon. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, letting the sounds of the grasslands wash over him. In this moment of stillness, he sought the comfort of the Force, allowing it to slip around him like an embrace. Perhaps it was here, in the calm of solitude, that he could confront his demons. Perhaps he needed to forgive himself--for battling on Bogan, for the lives lost, for pushing through the pain and frustration as he emerged into a new understanding of himself.

 

[Darth Reign]

Reign could not pinpoint the Padawan once he had gotten to Dantooine. There was a haze of light side energy all over the planet. Blasted Jedi Worlds, make it too hard to focus the Sith thought.

Landing his shuttle at a starport on the planet he had his children prepare for departure. “Nightmare, Shadow, go find us transport, I fear our young friend is out in the wilds somewhere. I do not fancy traveling on foot” with a low how the girls departed.

Settling into a meditative trance, the Dark Lord stretched out, focusing his willpower on locating the young man. The tranquil planet was soothing, Reign had to give it that, but the light side was strong here, and it clouded his vision. He had all but given up, before he felt a soul in turmoil. Conflicted within itself. “There” he said aloud.

“have you found him father?” Lady Nightmare asked. The two had just now walked back up the ramp.

“We have secured a speeder! It is one of the new fast ones!” Shadow added. Causing Reign to smile briefly.

“Yes girls, I’ve found him. Come we have a long journey ahead of us”

Night fell as the family traversed the grasslands of Dantooine, their target finally coming into view, where a small fire could be seen. “stop the speeder, we will traverse the rest on foot. No need to startle the boy” Reign said to Shadow, he had let her practice her driving on the open plains. They were roughly a kilometer away from what could be seen to be a camp site.

Walking up to the edge of the campground, draped in silence and their dark robes, Reign spied the young man. Deep in reflection, his internal anguish plastered on his face. He had not yet noticed them.

Stepping into the light, Reign tossed his hood back and said “Hello there” with a smile on his face and his arms spread wide.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

As Roman sat cross-legged by the flickering campfire, the pages of his tome began to blur in his tired eyes. He had trained hard that day, pushing himself through a series of rigorous Jedi exercises under the canopy of Dantooine's blue sky. The heat from the flames warmed his face, but the serenity of the tranquil night only amplified his exhaustion. Breathing deeply, he tried to focus on the ancient texts in hand, yet the words danced on the page, slipping just beyond his comprehension.

The wind rustled through the long grasses, a gentle yet unsettling caress, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. He sensed a shift in the Force, a familiar disturbance that jolted him awake and sent him instinctively to his feet. Roman's heart raced as he reached tentatively for the hilt of his lightsaber, his training instincts kicking in. He turned, scanning the shadowy perimeter of his camp with heightened anxiety.

Then, from the dark veil of night, the silhouette of a man emerged. Instinctively, Roman's muscles coiled, ready for action until he recognized the imposing figure of Darth Reign stepping into the warm glow of the firelight, flanked by his two enigmatic daughters--Nightmare and Shadow.

"Reign." Roman acknowledged, his voice taut but steady, a mix of wariness and curiosity washing over him. It had only been a short while since their paths crossed on Vaal, and Roman recalled the dark lord's lessons well. He felt an odd blend of trepidation and intrigue. What could have drawn the Sith here--to this peaceful, nearly forgotten world of the galaxy?

"Why are you on Dantooine?" Roman asked, his brow furrowing. "How did you find me?" His heart quickened at the realization. Despite his insistence on honing his newfound skill of Force concealment, there was no doubt that Reign's mastery of the dark side allowed him to cut through the layers Roman had attempted to weave around his presence. "I've been keeping up with training my use of force concealment..." he added, as he instinctively tried to impress the older man.

 

[Darth Reign]

The Dark Lord's smile widened at the Padawan's recognition. He was glad he had made an impression on the young man. Choosing his answers carefully, he didn't want to spook the boy after all, Reign chuckled slightly as he answered "Roman, I'm glad you remember me. To answer your questions, I am on Dantooine because I felt your frustration, and figured you may have need of me. Question two, is answered in part by my previous statement. Through our interaction, I identified your signature in the force, when you were going through an intense period of frustration or despair, I felt it, as you were nearby to the planet I happened to be on."

Reign let his words sink in for a moment, and at the young man's admission of keeping up training the skill the Dark Lord had taught him he nodded his head, Saying "I can tell, I'm very proud. If not for the intense emotions you have been going through, I would not have been able to find you myself. I doubt the girls could sense you even as we approached." he looked back at his daughters, giving a nod showing them it was ok to join the conversation.

Lady Nightmare stepped up first "During our travels over the grasslands, I tried to sense where you were, per our Father's direction. All I could feel were flickers of pain or regret, something you could feel from any being. I had no clue where you were" she spoke quietly, not liking to admit a deficit in her own power, but recognizing the relationship that was being forged.

Shadow was next, always the more exuberant of the two "I had no clue where you were, but Father let me drive the speeder on the way here! I got to practice while he tracked you. It was a lot of fun, so I'm thankful we came to find you" Shadow sounded playful but she still had the eyes of a predator, always sizing up her opponent, whether friend or foe.

Darth Reign looked around the campsite and spied the book that Roman had been reading. "Tell me Roman, what brings you out to Dantooine, the planet is not necessarily in Galactic Alliance space. This far outwards could be dangerous, you're nearing the sectors that I hold sway. Others may not be as...kind.. when they discover you." he asked, his tone like a parent warning their child of doing something dangerous. "And you feel, conflicted.. it was part of what drew me, what's happened?"

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman stood in the shadow of the campfire, the flickering hues painting his face. The heat from the flames kept him warm on this rather cold night, but he still couldn't help the cold chill go down his spine. Reign was a familiar face, yet he didn't quite know if this was someone he could trust completely. He took a deep breath before inviting the trio to join him around the fire, taking a seat near its flames.

"Dantooine is not unfamiliar," he began. "I grew up in the Outer Rim." He hoped to evoke some confidence with his words. He thought he could handle himself alone in the grasslands, a firm belief that resonated from his upbringing on Serenno, not far from here.

"However." he admitted, his voice lowering as he began to confess, realizing Reign could probably tell if he were to lie. "I came in search of an ancient library. I wanted to learn, to prepare. I've seen…too many things since we last spoke." The weight of recent events pressed heavily on his soul. "In a battle on the moon of Bogan, I took lives. I watched fellow Padawans fall. The reality of death and violence... it weighs heavily. I wish to ensure that when faced with conflict again, I won't act so carelessly."

Roman looked away, feeling the vulnerability of his words spill around the fire. He hoped he could see the understanding flicker in Reign's eyes, a mixture of interest and empathy that left him feeling achingly exposed. "It's…" He hesitated, grappling with the tumult of emotions. "It's conflicting. Being so close to killing… it stirs something within me. I seek understanding, so that I can bear the decisions of a warrior without drowning in guilt. I want to be better."

He held up the tome, the cover decorated with symbols of ancient teachings. "This tome called to me within the force. It explains how to handle these conflicts. Choosing when to act, when to hold back. I have to be better prepared next time…" His voice trailed off, an ache pooling in his heart.

 

[Darth Reign]

Darth Reign listened to Roman’s tale. The young man had been through a lot in his short life. While he listened, the Dark Lord had to admit, the serenity of Dantooine was the perfect place to challenge one’s conflicted soul.

A battle, dead padawans, the desire to be free of the guilt. All noble pursuits, Reign though at least. Speaking softly to the young man, he said “the path of a warrior and the ideals of the Jedi often find themselves in conflict. Taking a life can weigh heavily, even upon one such as myself. The lives I’ve taken, the battles I’ve fought in, they’ve weaved themselves into the tapestry of who I am. As they will you as well Roman. I doubt this will be the last battle you participate in, and I’m sure they will be even worse. I will do what I can to help you Steele yourself against this pain”

Reign took a moment to look at the tome the padawan held, Masasa, the Dark Lord was unfamiliar, but he was still learning more about the history of the Jedi. “I can’t say I’m familiar with masasa, but, my experience can be a great asset to you. Tell me, what is this technique you are studying. Let us be of assistance”

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Darth Reign's words settling upon him like a shroud. The Dark Lord's admission of his own burdens, was both unsettling and strangely comforting. He glanced down at the tome, his fingers tracing the worn leather cover. "It's hard," he began, "the battles... the deaths... they're like a shadow that follows me. Even now, when the air is still and the tall grass whisper, I can see the faces of those who fell. Padawans, friends, teachers... all taken too soon. I try to find peace, to understand the Jedi teachings of compassion, but the guilt, it claws at me. Like the roots of a dark vine, it chokes the light."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "This book, this... Masasa," he explained, carefully placing it on the smooth stone beside him, "it's more than just fighting. It's about understanding the dance of conflict, the flow of energy. Instead of seeing an enemy, you see a partner, a reflection of yourself. The strikes, the throws, they're all about redirecting, about finding a way to end conflict without resorting to lethal force. It's a philosophy that pulls at me, a counterpoint to the violence I've witnessed."

Roman's gaze lifted, meeting Darth Reign's. "I've read all I can from this book. But the words are not enough. I need to feel it, to experience Masasa in the heat of a spar. It calls for a challenge, a fight that pushes me beyond my limits, to test this philosophy. I fear that if I return to the Jedi, they won't understand my need for this kind of intense training. I don't want to simply practice, I need to be pushed to the brink, to feel the weight of a true opponent, someone who wants to end my life."

A nervous smile flickered across his lips. "Perhaps... perhaps your daughters could help? They're seem strong, quick, and eager to learn. It could be a way for them to see how they stack up against a Padawan of the New Jedi Order. We could all gain from the experience, if you're willing to help."

 

[Darth Reign]

Darth Reign could feel Shadow's excitement at the prospect of engaging the Padawan in combat, in truth it had been something the Dark Lord himself had been looking for an opportunity to make happen. His mind raced, in this controlled environment, he could have his daughter's pushed to their limits without the fear of them falling to an enemy.

Looking back at his children, Shadow nodded expectantly, knowing her father's mind was already made. He turned back to the Padawan, saying "My children are willing, they have been looking for a proper opponent to test their training in Bakuuni Hand. But be warned Roman, practice against a Sith is never just practice, they will not take your life, but, there will be no holding back on their end. They will come at you with everything they have, and you better be prepared to defend yourself, or suffer lasting damage. Such is the way of the Sith."

Lady Nightmare stood back, her training more advanced than her sister, she knew this test was for Shadow first.
For her part, Shadow walked forward and removed her outer robe. Her frame small but obviously strong. "Be prepared Roman, I've been trained directly by my father in hand to hand combat. I won't go easy on you" She said with a smile, the young girl looked like a predator, ready to strike.

Darth Reign put his hand up, stalling his child. "First, ground rules. Roman, if you agree, the ring around the fire pit will be your arena, stay within the area, also, no use of the force, this is a test of strength and endurance. While the force is a tool for your use, there are some situations where you may be deprived of it. Finally, you fight until your opponent yields, you are not to maim or kill, this is the rule for you Shadow. Blood is expected and will not stop the sparring match."

Reign stepped back, his hands clasped behind his back, looking for every part the battle master and instructor that he was in his own academy.
"If both parties are ready, you may begin"

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman stood at the edge of the makeshift arena, his heart pounding with anticipation. The flames of the fire pit cast shadows across the terrain, highlighting the determined expressions on their faces. The ominous presence of Darth Reign loomed over them, a constant reminder of the high stakes and unforgiving nature this sparring would be.

Taking a breath to steady his nerves, Roman nodded sharply. "I agree to the terms. I need a sparring partner who won't hold back." he replied, his voice steady. He felt a surge of adrenaline wash over him. "I want to test my limits with someone fierce, someone who will challenge me." His gaze met Shadow's, and he couldn't help but admire her willingness to spar him. Though she was younger, there was an intensity in her eyes that ignited his competitive spirit.

As they stepped into the ring, both fighters assumed their stances, the atmosphere crackling with tension. Roman felt the weight of his surroundings slip away, narrowing his focus solely on Shadow. She was small, yet ready to unleash her training as well.

The moment Darth Reign's signal was given, Shadow lunged forward with blistering speed, faster than Roman had anticipated. His instincts kicked in as he absorbed her initial barrage of attacks. He had faced opponents before, but none had moved with the rapid ferocity that Shadow exhibited.

Roman wasn't looking to strike, instead, he channeled everything the ancient tome had taught him. As Shadow pressed her assault, he dedicated himself to learning from each encounter, redirecting her energy and deflecting her blows. Every parry and dodge was a new lesson, a single page in the manuscript of combat that he had been studying.

Yet, despite his defensive strategy, Shadow was relentless. She landed a couple of swift strikes, one sending a sharp pain through Roman's lip that opened a cut, painting a line of crimson across his face. He welcomed the sting, a reminder that he was alive in the moment, pushing his limits. The fight was challenging, yet invigorating. Roman felt exhilarated as they danced, neither giving ground.

Minutes turned into a blur as fatigue began to creep in, their breaths growing heavier, limbs more sluggish. Roman found himself slipping into a rhythm but couldn't shake the toll the spar was taking on him. He could see Shadow was equally affected, her movements becoming slightly less precise, a testament to the endurance of battle.

In a moment of focus lost, the world slowed as Shadow's leg shot forward. Roman barely had the time to react before her boot collided with the side of his head. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, darkness engulfing him, the last thing he felt was the warmth of blood trickling from his lip and the echo of Darth Reign's solemn voice in the distance.

When he awoke the next morning, the fight was a haze, the flickering fire reduced to embers. Roman slowly pushed himself up, groggy, but alive. He realized he had needed this knockout, a forced rest that could sharpen his focus and strength for the battles yet to come.

 

[Darth Reign]

Darth Reign watched the sparring match with the practiced eye of both a teacher and a combatant. Analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of both Apprentices, he would hold his comments until the end.

As the match wore on, he made note of Shadow's frustrations about breaking through Roman's defenses, but, he felt her elation as she landing a glancing blow on the young man, splitting his lip. As Reign made note of a future lesson in remaining present in the fight, he felt her focus recenter on the Padawan.

The Dark Lord had to be impressed with Roman as well, despite a lack of formal training with an instructor in hand to hand combat, he was keeping up surprisingly well. Holding off the young Sith Apprentice for quite a while, long enough, that the match was taking it's toll on both of them. He had felt the slip before he saw the consequences, a small lapse in focus had rewarded the Padawan with Shadow's boot to the side of his head. As the Padawan fell, Reign's voice commanded "Shadow, the match is over, stand down" which caused his daughter to stop immediately, bowing towards her father.

"Nightmare, take your sister to the speeder, gather our camping supplies and check her over medically." As his daughter's left, he stopped them smiling "And Shadow? Fantastic work, I'm proud of you" the young girl left, a smile on her face and bounce in her step at her father's praise.

Turning to the young Jedi, Reign looked at him with pride, he was out but the Dark Lord would be sure to give the young man praise when he awoke. Cocking his head, the Dark Lord felt something calling to him from within the outpost, an old library by the looks of it, turning his attention there, he entered the building.

He walked the outpost with something akin to reverence, he may be a Sith but he valued knowledge above everything else. Being called to the center of library, he sat, meditating on the power and history of Dantooine, until a book called to him. A history book, as it were, faded and damaged. It was a history of the Mandalorian wars and subsequent Jedi Civil War, ending with the great Jedi Purge orchestrated by Darth Nihilus and Darth Scion.

So engrossed was Reign in these histories, that he hadn't slept, when the first rays of the sun broke through the window, he exited the library.

Seated near the Padawan when he awoke, the Dark Lord said kindly "Take it slow, you took quite a hit. But congratulations, Shadow is quite the fierce little combatant, you've done well. The girls are up, it is generally our way that you will fight again before allowed a meal, however, as we are working with a Jedi, I will let this pass, unless you are prepared to go again."

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman awoke to the gentle hum of morning on Dantooine, the cool air washing over him like a refreshing balm. His mind, though clear and rested, was quickly jolted back to reality by the throbbing bump on the side of his head, a painful reminder of the previous evening's sparring match. He winced slightly, shaking off the dizziness, and turned to find Darth Reign seated near him.

Memories flooded Roman's mind, of blocked strikes and quick movements, of his error that had opened the door for Shadow's decisive blow. He felt the familiar feeling of frustration rise within him. He was a Padawan, but that didn't absolve him of the mistakes he made out there. He had to improve and show that he could stand against the strength of both Reign and his daughters. "I'm ready. Let's go again." he said, determination lacing his voice.

As he pushed himself upright, a slight wave of dizziness washed over him, but he shook it off with quick determination. Stretching out the tension in his limbs, he felt the weariness of the previous night's spar still clinging to his muscles. Glancing up, he saw the girls returning, carrying various supplies and a glimmer of mischief in their eyes. Roman clenched his jaw, preparing himself to face Shadow once more.

"Good morning." Shadow teased, coming closer with that playful smirk. "How's your head? Did I crack it open?"

Roman rolled his eyes, unwilling to let the lighthearted jab lower his guard or reveal any vulnerability. "Very funny, Shadow." he said, adopting his stance once again.

Renewed focus settled over both of them as they resumed their dance of combat. The world faded to a blurry backdrop, the sounds of nature mingling with the clash of their strikes, each movement an intricate blend of practice and instinct. Roman could feel himself growing stronger, sharper, each block building upon what he had learned. The two fought relentlessly, neither willing to bend under the weight of exhaustion that began to creep in again.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Roman felt a surge of confidence. He saw an opening, a slight misstep in Shadow's flow as she launched a strike toward him. Seizing the moment, he redirected her movement, using her momentum against her and sending her sprawling into the soft dirt.

Breathing heavily, he took a step back, giving her space as she lay there momentarily disoriented. "Good one." she called, tapping out as she surrendered to the defeat, she had nothing left to give.

Roman felt a spark of triumph but knew better than to gloat. Instead, he turned away, laying down in the cool grass to regain his composure, the earth cool beneath him.

 

[Darth Reign]

Darth Reign watched the second bout, already the young Jedi was learning from his previous mistakes. He was also proud of his daughter, he had sensed her overconfidence as the bout had started, but, she had gotten control of herself as the duel progressed.

As the day wore on, Reign caught the fault in Shadow, making note to drill this particular move into her more thoroughly. And was therefore, unsurprised when she went sailing to land in the dirt. He was, however, surprised at her willingness to yield. She was abnormally headstrong usually, smart, but had yet to learn when to concede. A sense of pride washed over him as she tapped, unusual he was sure for a Sith, but living to fight another day was something she had to come to terms with. Perhaps this Jedi was teaching her as she helped teach him.

Walking into the makeshift arena, Reign congratulated both the duelists. "The match is ended, congratulations Roman, you have bested Shadow in this bout. Shadow, it appears you have learned a different lesson here, that is good." he walked to his daughter, giving her a hand to get up. He was unconcerned about the padawan, winded though he was, he would be able to arise just fine.

"Eat now, both of you, and rest for a moment. Roman, as soon as you are ready, you will face Nightmare next." he said, sweeping his arm towards his older daughter. She should provide a more lasting challenge for the Padawan, having had the benefit of training with her father for longer, as well as actual combat experience in field.

For her part, Lady Nightmare bowed and said softly "I am ready father, as soon as the jedi has rested." Roman would soon learn, that if Shadow was all fire, Nightmare was ice, the cold and ever encroaching chill of winter to her sister's blistering heat.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

​

Roman pushed himself upright, wiping dirt from his hands and brushing the dust from his clothes. He glanced over at Shadow, who was gathering her composure after the bout. A slight nod of appreciation passed between them and Roman felt a swell of respect for the young one. Reign had taught her well, recognizing the knowledge embedded in her movements, even in defeat.

With a grumble in his stomach that felt like a warning siren, he made his way towards the makeshift table with food. His fingers snagged a piece of dried fruit, his hunger overtaking him. He devoured the snack quickly, savoring the sweetness bursting forth while stealing glances at Lady Nightmare, who stood poised and unreadable nearby. The sinister chill she exuded seemed to fit her name. Roman figured she would be as much a challenge, if not more so, than her sister.

He took stock of his body. Sore muscles and the dull ache of bruises were testament to the intensity of the sparring so far, and he treated them lightly as he stretched to ease the tension. Between his defeats and the lessons he absorbed, he was beginning to see how much more he had to learn.

Roman's gaze flickered to Nightmare, closer in age to him and yet perhaps even more formidable than Shadow. With a newfound determination, he stepped toward the sparring circle and firmly invited Nightmare to join him. She removed her robe with a fluid motion, revealing an outfit that mirrored the precision of her movements.

But as they settled into their stances, there was an unnerving stillness. Roman anticipated an aggressive assault like that of Shadow's, yet the air between them hung heavy with tension, as if they were two predators calculating the distance before the inevitable strike. Minutes passed, and they remained in a careful dance, circling and gauging, as Roman wrestled with growing frustration and uncertainty.

Compelled by some foolish instinct, he jabbed toward her. It was a half-hearted attempt, more an offering than a real threat. Nightmare slipped aside gracefully, evading him with an elegance that rendered him reluctant to commit even further. But her counterattack was fierce, she struck like a serpent, landing a sharp blow to his kidneys. Pain lanced through him, doubling him over, and he gasped as he stumbled back, all his assessments fleeting in the face of sudden disarray.

Yet even as discomfort overtook him, dread did not follow. Instead, Roman resolved to remember the teachings of the tome, patience was key. He regained his footing, swallowing the pain as a new certainty bloomed within him. The rhythm of a duel was not simply a rush toward the end, it was a symphony of strikes, counters, and timing.

The spar resumed slowly, with Roman feeling the weight of each exchange. Nightmare was relentless, expertly steering the duel into a dance where he struggled to find a timing of his own. Each of her strikes tested him, pushing him to break from impulse into something more controlled. The elegant sway of her movements was a stark contrast to Shadow's boldness, and as they clashed, he felt admiration for Nightmare's ability to remain composed.

He ducked low and sidestepped her swift strike, pain igniting in his ribs as he grappled to regain control of his senses. Roman was determined to master the new defensive form he was learning but faced the reality that Nightmare would keep him off-balance if he was not careful.

Hours melted into the afternoon sun, and with each passing moment, he grew both exhausted and exhilarated by the match. Time slipped away as they swept across the dirt, blows exchanged with neither willing to concede an inch. No one was about to yield, not him, not her.

 

[Darth Reign]

As Reign had expected, facing the cold and calculating Nightmare so soon after the explosive Shadow proved troublesome for the young Padawan. The precise movements Nightmare exhibited were exactly why he had held her in reserve. It is far easier to weather a fierce storm, than a cold that creeps so slowly you don't even know you are dying.

Watching as the Padawan gave into frustration, Reign devised a further lesson for him, one never knows what type of opponent they are up against, Roman must take the time to assess his adversary and not give into frustration or rash decisions, the new bruising on his ribs is a testament to it. This lesson was one that they would broach when the duel ended. Which as it would seem at this pace, would be quite some time.

As the Sun started to sink low, the Dark Lord stepped into the arena, commanding the combatants to halt his voice firm to cut through the haze of combat. "That is enough. You've gone on for hours now with no clear ground gained. We are finished for today." he turned back to the meal he had prepared for their late afternoon lunch. Waving the two young ones onward to wear Shadow sat watching.

As Roman approached, he put a hand up to stop him, turning fully towards him, his usual smile absent and the tone of a teacher on his lips "There is a lesson hidden within this round, can you tell me what it is? Furthermore, I would again like to congratulate you, Nightmare is notoriously hard to read, and her calm demeanor can be unsettling. Many of our own acolytes struggle in their contests with her, not to mention some of her instructors among my guards."

Reign moved onward and grabbed some of the prepared meal, just a simple sandwich for this late lunch, he had a haunch of meat he would cook over the fire later, but that would happen in time. Sitting down among his children, he asked Roman "When last we met you had many questions, in this moment of quiet, come, ask them. What would you like to know? There shall be no secrets between us, you're one of the family now."

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

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Roman paused, a sliver of relief washing over him as the clamor of his spar with Nightmare came to a halt. His heart still raced from the tense back-and-forth, but the promise of a meal tugged at him fiercely as he made his way toward the fire. The aroma of freshly prepared food wafted toward him, igniting his hunger after hours of rigorous sparring. But just as he was about to make a beeline toward the table of provisions, Reign's voice rang out, bringing him to a halt.

He stopped to face Reign, the low sunlight casting an end-of-day glow across the elder's features. Roman breathed deeply, letting the remnants of frustration seep out, as he contemplated his experience with Nightmare. After a moment's reflection, he nodded.

"I think… it's about patience. At least, that's what I gathered from it." Roman answered thoughtfully. "In the fight, it was hard to know what she would do next. She kept me on my toes, and every time I anticipated a move, she was already somewhere else. I let my frustration boil over, and it cost me." He shifted on his feet, feeling the residual bruising on his ribs as a reminder of his rashness.

As they walked together to the fire, Roman felt a burgeoning sense of ease. He settled down on a log beside Reign, their makeshift dining table, and began to eat, stuffing his mouth a little too greedily in his hunger.

Yet, Roman's curiosity sparked, igniting questions that had lingered since his first encounter with Reign and his family. With a gulp, he swallowed awkwardly and finally spoke, his voice breaking through the peaceful afternoon air.

"Who are you and your family really? What power do you serve? And why haven't you… You know, why haven't you killed me?"

He paused, gauging the mentor's reaction, his heart thrumming nervously against his ribcage as he continued. "I've heard so many stories about the Sith. The Jedi taught me that your kind would strike down anyone they perceived as a threat, given the chance. So, if i'm right in assuming you're Sith… why am I still alive?" His gaze was steadfast, searching Reign's eyes for the answers.

 

[Darth Reign]

As Reign enjoyed his meal, he waited for the one question that he knew had to come. As it turned out, he hadn't needed to wait long.
Finishing the food he had in his mouth he took a moment to gather his thoughts.
"Who are we? Well, my brother and I, who you haven't yet met, lead a movement called The Diarchy. Our father, who was the master to my brother and I, as I am to my daughters. Was a Sith Lord of great power, but he viewed the deceitful nature and pursuit of singular power as the folly of the order. In protest of what he thought of as the stagnation of the Sith, he went into exile. After which, my brother and I were born."

He paused for a moment, recounting the hard but loving upbringing he had with his father. Raised as a Sith but taught the values of family and forgoing the pursuit of individual power to chase the strength of unity and control, the truth of power shared. He continued "It was a hard life, but one full of love, it is not what you would have expected. Alas, my father is no more, taken from us before he could see the fruition of his Grand Plan. My brother and I rule the Diarchy in memory of him and in honor of his teachings."

He laughed briefly at the question of his continued survival before answering "I do not kill for no reason Roman, I have a conscience. The love I give to my wife and children should be evidence of that enough. Plus, don't take this the wrong way, but are you truly a threat to me?" he said chuckling. "No I kid, as I mentioned in our first meeting, I believe that power shared is true strength, so I am here to help you reach your true power. You may not agree with me, but our orders are sick. They fail to grow, to evolve, and are the root of the chaos in the galaxy. I exist, the Diarchy exists, to bring order to that Chaos. I am not some conquering warlord to be feared, I am here to liberate, to guide. Whether that be guiding you, or guiding the galaxy. We must evolve, there must be order."

He let his words sink in while he enjoyed the rest of his meal. Watching his children banter and trade petty insults with a soft smile on his face.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Dantooine | Ancient Jedi Outpost​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Darth Reign

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He observed Reign, his demeanor calm and composed as he savored the meal, clearly enjoying the company of his family. Roman had always been taught from a young age to fear Sith, to see them as embodiments of chaos and tyranny. Yet here was Darth Reign, a leader seeking order, a father loving his children, and a teacher showing ideals that felt strangely inviting.

"Liberate." Roman echoed, contemplating the weight of the word. The idea of guiding the galaxy towards a shared understanding, rather than crushing it under the heel of oppressive fear, danced in his mind. But doubt flickered at the edges of his thoughts. Was this truly a new path, or merely a clever ruse to mask the ancient darkness of the Sith?

With a steadying breath, he asked, "But in guiding others, how do you ensure that this power does not lead to the same corruption you accuse the established orders of?" He was aware of the gravity of his question, a mere Padawan daring to inquire into the methods of a Sith, but his instincts urged him onward.

His gaze shifted to the antics of Reign's daughters, playful quarrels and bursts of laughter filled the space that had been steeped in philosophical tension. Roman sensed that this familial bond, this rootedness in love and trust, was what ultimately made Reign's philosophy distinct, a stark divergence from the solitary path of traditional Sith ideology.

"Order can easily become oppression if left unchecked." he continued, choosing his words carefully. "While I see the appeal of harmony through unity, what safeguards do you have against breeding tyranny in the name of peace?"

The tension in the air hung in suspense as Roman awaited Reign's response.

 

[Darth Reign]

The Dark Lord pondered Romans question for a moment. This conversation being strikingly familiar to one he had with his newest apprentice Kai'lyn . He smiled slightly to himself, all these young ones, asking the hard hitting questions he thought. It gave him hope for the future.

“These are all very good questions, and you are right to ask them Roman. To answer, I have a question for you as well. The Jedi, they hold power, yet many do not see them as corrupt. Why do you think that is? In my experience, yes, power corrupts, but it corrupts when hoarded for personal use, or for selfish gain. A fundamental tenet of the Diarchy is ‘power with purpose’ we do not use our power for ourselves alone. All our strength is used in pursuit of a higher purpose, it is also shared freely, as you have seen. Power for power alone corrupts. Power with purpose, power shared freely, is pure.

Reign let his words sink in, knowing it would be a shock to the Padawan to hear a Sith speak this way, the Diarch leaned forward towards the padawan, his hands steepled, and his yellow eyes staring straight into Roman’s.

“You are quite right, it is easy for Order to slip into oppression, but that is why you must keep it in check. As I mentioned before, I do not seek to conquer and rule, but to guide. I abhor the loss of innocent life, and innocence itself. As a safeguard, for when I am gone, for make no mistake my young friend, as powerful as I am.. I too will die.. I have raised my children to espouse the same ideals, that way, my philosophy lives on through my blood. Barring that, my own family and I have started an academy, to teach the next generation the ideals of the Diarchy, so that they too will grow to have our ideals and guide with fairness. And any outliers, any that would seek to veer into tyranny, will see my retribution as swift and unforgiving.”

Roman Vossari