Iron Sharpens Iron

[Brand]

History.

Jedi of old, ancestors of the protectors of the Republic, they cried out to Elk, as real as the physical materials he walked on. He strode quickly through the hallowed halls of the Jedi Monastery of Tython, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was dressed in his typical grey robes, the cowl thrown up, concealing his hammerhead face, which concealed the light battledress he wore underneath. His large blue eyes gazed solemnly out of the shadow, his blue eyes a lone light in the darkness.

Elk felt the last wisps of sleepiness draining from his weary muscles; he called on the Force, feeling its warmth and coolness spreading over him like a warm blanket. Dumaw was secure in it's grasp; as he headed to a training session with a completely new master, Elk knew he would need the strength and comfort only it could provide him.

Elk's feet slapped lightly against the cold stone, his feet clad only in comfortable bantha leather flip flops. His dual lightsabers rested reassuringly against his waist, attached to a utility belt secured around his midsection. Dumaw turned a corner, surprised to see he was this close to the training room. Elk pulled himself up to his full height, an imposing 7'2", and depressed the green open button.

A swoosh resounded through the room, and Elk was greeted by Jedi Master Valen Cross. The man was a legend in combat, a living weapon, and his battle experience was formidable. From what Dumaw had gathered he had even left the Order for a considerable period of time. Elk stooped into a deep bow, his armor flexing. He threw back his hood, revealing a strong but youthful Ithorian face. His dark green, almost brown, skin was healthy, and his exposed upper body rippled with strong muscle tone.

Elk Dumaw was still but a padawan, but he had grown into a respectable but reserved warrior, especially in the past few years. The recent death of his master was still apparent on his face, a small glint of grief still apparent in his eyes. Dumaw resisted the guilt, the pain, and spoke, his deep, accented voice rumbling through the room. "Padawan Elk Dumaw, reporting for training, master."

 

[Mars]

Tython.

A nice relaxing planet in an incredibly dangerous area of the galaxy. The Jedi temple was just between a large village and the forests the planet's famous for. It was still pretty early when the unusual sound of an alarm clock thudding against the wall broke the constant stream of annoying noises flowing from the little device. The owner of the device rolled in his bed, arm hanging lazily off the side. and closed his fist, which crushed the little device and silenced it for good.

He swung his legs off the side of the bed, sitting with his forehead resting against the palms of his hands with his elbows on his knees as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. After a moment or two and with some aid from the Force, his body was essentially ready to go for the day. Being a quick starter was certainly nice, but if it wasn't for the help of the Force it'd probably be a lethal mistake to talk with Master Cross before a cup of caf.

Fifteen minutes later and his usual Republic Armor still sat on a large wooden hanger custom made to show off the full suit of armor, he decided he wouldn't need it for just today and instead dawned the lighter armor he used at Noob Hill. It was probably the more effective and comfortable set but didn't have half the sentimental value of his older suit. Oh well.

Valen tossed his brown robes over the armor and continued to the training room where he'd await his new Padawan. An Ithorian who liked combat, very strange. His emerald-bladed lightsaber was clipped to his belt and his saphire bladed shoto on the other hip. His new apprentice entered the room shortly after Valen had finished a light blaster blocking excersise.

"Hello Elk. How's life?"

The lightsabers on the padawans hilt caught Valen's eye and he frowned slightly, once you had a master you got to carry a glorified glowstick unless out on a mission or you crafted a real-deal lightsaber under him or her.

"You have real lightsabers, which is cool and all, but you'll not be seeing these untill you reach Knighthood. In the meantime, I'll hold them." Valen said as he lifted the lightsabers over to himself with telekinesis, one of his most refined powers, igniting them as they floated in the air in front of him. "Green and blue, nice combo kid. You'll get these back before long."

 

[Brand]

Elk was bewildered, but only for a moment. Valen was quick to speak, and the Ithorian didn't have any idea how he was expected to respond. "The usual, master."

He noticed the frown that crested Cross' face, as his eyes traced over his lightsabers. As they were lifted from his belt he felt a physical sense of security up and leave. Elk's eyes narrowed slightly, in frustration and confusion. "Why, master? I assume you have something else planned."

Those lightsabers were the crafted blade of his inner self, the edge of his existence. He felt dull without them, but knew that the Jedi Master was an experienced taskmaster. He had to know what he was doing.

Didn't he?

 

[Mars]

"I dunnno man, it's protocall. I don't really agree with it, if you're skilled with them you should get to keep them, but one too many people sliced limbs off on accident."

Valen paused for a second, hm, what should be the first steps in training with this one. Backround checks usually were a good start for training. Let the Master knew what he was starting with and what there was to fix and add to off the bat.

"Come, follow me."

The Jedi Master led his newest student over to a table with a few chairs around it in the corner of the room. He spun a chair around and sat with his arms resting upon the back of the chair with his chin leaned onto his arms.

"So, tell me about yourself Elk. Backround, strengths, weaknesses, why you're hear, what you want to learn. Anything you deem important."

 

[Brand]

Elk followed the master over the table. The wood was faceted, pockmarked, and had obviously seen countless users. He ran his hands over the table's top while Valen voiced his question.

"So, tell me about yourself Elk. Backround, strengths, weaknesses, why you're hear, what you want to learn. Anything you deem important."

Dumaw looked up, locking eyes with the human. He had a strong, humanly handsome face; his eyes gave off a look of cocky self awareness, something that set Elk off in some beings. Still, this man gave off an air of calm in the Force. "I don't know much of my early life. I've always taken an interest in the lightsaber and the Living Force. I'm not much of a user, by any means, but my Master honed my abilities. I feel most at home under the gun, pressure riding me down. I can't stand inaction, as you'll seen find out, I'm sure."

Elk paused. "It's been about three months now since my Master... former Master passed away. I don't know if you know, but she was cut down on Honoghr. I touched the Dark side in the days following, but I can only thank the Force that I was able to resist and hold out. As I've recuperated I've come to you to complete my training to Knighthood."

Dumaw sighed, reopening old wounds. The scabs definitely bled when they came off. "I respect you, Master Cross. What you feel I need to augment my knowledge is what I desire to learn, but I'll follow your lead." His face betrayed a small smile. It was a tough thing to be uptight when in the presence of such a loose and irregular Jedi.