Roene Givrah

Midiclorians... Roene scoffed inwardly at the word. Whoever thought of the name of those symbiotic organisms was a strange one indeed. Roene stroked his long, alabaster beard and looked at the man beside him with a hardened, but inquisitive look. He stared for such time that the air between them began to feel slightly uncomfortable. To the young man, it would look like the Cerean had gone mad, but there was something deeper in his gaze. His cold blue eyes probed deep into the young man where he sat, until finally the Cerean looked back toward the holovid and smiled. "You will learn the answer to those questions and more. In time." Roene said, nodding quietly to himself, still smiling. "However, you must first understand two things: First, although I am a Knight, I am still young. I am still learning and what I know is not everything there is to know. Second, you should know that what I say is by no means a law of the Jedi Order. I know and preach only what I have learned from experience, reading books, and extrapolating from both." Roene stood up as quietly as he sat, a small gust of air following him as he moved. "If you truly know and understand that, we may begin." The Cerean thought for a moment and his smile broadened. "Which reminds me, I wish to see the galaxy one world at a time. Which world would you like to visit? I would prefer to stay away from known Sith worlds, for obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean we can't go poking around anyway."

With haste, the Cerean found himself nearing the temple. It was a secluded place, hidden by the cliff faces of a magnificent rocky structure overlooking the white beaches of Lehon. It was a beautiful site and one that Roene had enjoyed several times. He was almost sad to see it go, but something inside of him urged him forward. It was like a call to action and nothing could stop his thoughts or the beat of his rapid heart. He entered the temple with little trouble. Tyue knew to wait outside and wasn't present when Roene passed by the reception stand and started toward his quarters, but something stopped him. Roene thought it might be a distress sound or feeling present in the bond he shared with his canine companion, but when Roene probed his mind, the dog sat silent, still. The Cerean scratched at his head, but wouldn't let the mystery leave. He decided instead to follow the strange sensation and investigate where it led. He looked down a long corridor toward his quarters and started running, but the further he went, the colder the sensation became. He started back toward the reception area and after a moment or two, the Cerean could actually see the path before him. It was an odd array of lit particles that hovered in the air directly in front of his face. The sensation he was feeling on his body were the particles rubbing against his skin as he went past. It led him off of the reception desk a small way and into a meditation chamber, where a young man sat, doing what he could to follow the meditative instructions on a holo screen nearby. Roene looked at him quizzically. He tried to move past the man in order to find where the path was truly leading him, but the sensations nudged Roene to look back at the figure of the young man. The warmth of the particles told him, this was where the path ended. Seeing no other choice, Roene imitated the young man's meditation position. Except, Roene's stance was nearly perfect. He held every muscle and thought where it needed to be and he was immediately immersed in an intense calm. He reached out to the young man and spoke to him, through the force. Hello young one... Although we are alike in age, I feel a gap between us in several ways. Would I be correct in assuming that you have come to the temple seeking training?

Roene got to his feet and set his hands to rest near his waist with his palms pointing backward. He took a deep breath and with a great sigh, the Cerean let the cold water dissipate from his body. It hovered in little rivulets from his skin and streamed in the air toward the ground. Tyue had to move not to get splashed, but the dog seemed accustom to this technique. When Roene moved to start, Tyue had already walked away to give him room. Roene shrugged a little to regain the feelings in his shoulders and arms, and with a small nod, he was finally starting regain the warmth in his body. "Nothing like a swim to start your day off right." Roene said, petting his companion behind the ears when the dog came back to his side. Tyue said nothing. The dog merely looked at his master and panted happily at the affection. "Alright boy, first I need to pick up the remainder of my things from the temple, then we can leave." Roene's hands reached to his arms and legs, feeling the muscles underneath. The coarseness of the tissue told him their condition and whether or not strain would cause extreme damage. He wasn't the best in humanoid biology, but medical logs and journals gave him at least a basic idea. He looked around at his surroundings with a quick shift and shifted his weight toward the ground. The Cerean placed one leg horizontal to the ground, almost touching, then shifted the other until it was at a ninety degree angle to the rest of his body. He took a deep breath, tapped Tyue on the head, and shifted the power latent in his body from his chest to his feet. He passed the weight evenly between both legs and with only a few seconds of rest.... BANG!! A shot of sound rang off into the distance and Roene took off in a blur of motion. He dodged obstacles with nimble movements and continued catapulting his body at enormous speeds. Trees bowed before him as he went, the air broke upon him, the moisture in the air shielded him, and the debris beneath him was barely disturbed in his wake. A small sensation tingled on the back of his neck as the energy in his body escalated and he wondered if something, or someone else might be left for him on this planet... __________________________________________ "If you would like, Master Quay, there is a meditative room to your left. You may wait in there if you'd like." The receptionist said with a warm, but practiced smile. Her manner was appropriate and her attire was fitting, but something about her actions seemed, absent. A small pang of energy flitted in the air poking at the back of Soren's neck like a mosquito trying to find just the right perch.

A shrouded figure sat with his back to a large lake. His legs were crossed one over the other and his hands were raised to the middle of his body; one hand of tanned, callused skin and the other hand made of what looked to be wood. The measure of height between the hands was exactly the same. Their position never changed and the figure kept them alarmingly still. Brilliant white hair fell in a single line from the top of the figure’s head to the ground. A long white beard matched it on the other side, but its size was only enough to reach the figure’s abdomen. The wind consumed the figure’s weather beaten face and pushed the long strands of white into the air. His cold blue eyes rested behind heavy lids and the murmur of his breathing barely broke the music of nature that played around him. The morning breeze whipped, the strong trees creaked and leaves rustled as they brushed across the ground. Behind him, the expanse of water stretched a good two hundred feet in each direction. The depth of the water gave its body a cool midnight blue shade and aside from the ripples on its surface, the rhythm of the current was hushed. A cold morning mist blanketed the ground and played silently at the figure’s legs. The cold temperature teased his muscles to break, but the figure never moved. The muscles in his thighs rested and although the biting cold struck his skin, he did nothing to counter. He simply sat. The only deviation in the form’s static state was the mist that pooled around his mouth, indicating his still, but consistent breaths. Sapphire pools of energy consumed his fingers beyond the plane of mortal sight. His eyes shone a phantom luminescence and danced like pyres of blue flame in the sky. Upon the break of the next morning breeze, the figure’s legs shifted. They were one in their movements. The muscles hesitated only once, to indicate a shift in weight, and then each leg pushed simultaneously from the ground to bring the man to his feet. A pulse of light blew from his feet at the move, but once the man found his stance once more, the energy faded. He brought his hands together at the center of his body’s gravity and they met with a surge of light emanating from within. He took a moment of silence, not shifting for the space of a second. Then, the man took his fingers and wove a pattern in the air before him. His breathing was measured, practiced, and each move followed the flow of the world around him. The figure’s eyes were closed to the visible world, continuing to see from other eyes. He worked his hands through the air until a cascade of glittering energy exploded in the sky. The figure smiled a full smile. He let his hands rest at his sides and tipped himself backward. The air whipped itself against him as he descended and a whoosh of fog blew away beneath him. He was cradled by the net of power that lingered in the air. It swelled around him like a massive bubble and when the figure broke it and dove headfirst into the cold water, the bubble burst into the visible spectrum, sending fireflies scattering into the water. Wicked stabbing pangs of bitter cold dug into the man’s heart. He could feel the grip of the morning chill on his body and the mortal circumstances with which it came. However, once the fireflies touched the water, a mass of warm energy flew across the lake. The frigid sting of fate’s cool embrace was washed away with celerity that defied reality. This is what the force is… This is what beauty is… What hope is there for the Jedi when they forge the fires of war? What hope is there for me when I claim their rank? Do their actions make them not Jedi? Do my actions make me more Jedi than they? The figure clasped his knees to his chest, using his arms. The glittering beams of light worked their way around him and after a minute or two of effort, they formed a small bubble around him. The silence here was strong… Everlasting… Permanent… I must carve my own path. My philosophy has met resentment within the Jedi order by both sides of their splitting ideals. However I cannot claim that my answer is better… Only that it is mine. Roene took time to breathe in the small bubble he created. It was little and didn’t have much air in it, but it allowed him to meditate in true silence. It allowed him to feel the peace of being carried upon the current and yet, floating only moments away from the dark depths of fate that dwell leagues below, it held him in a natural contradiction. Death lingered so close that life was precious here. Who would put themselves so close to death, to value the life they had left to live? One who does not fear death… One who understands death… With a twitch of his hand, the Cerean’s bubble popped and he guided himself out of the water onto the shore. He let his hands go the way of the water and found himself gliding upon a wave toward the ground. It was a simple movement and one that, since he’d practiced it, was met with little resistance. Still, the landing wasn’t as gentle as he would have liked. He encountered the ground with a small thud, but within seconds of dropping, the Cerean rolled out of the impact and landed right in front of Tyue; who, although extremely glad to see him, because of all of the licking, was a little confused. The dog looked at him, his head cocked a little to the left. He was panting, like most Garral’s did due to their lack of a biological coolant system, but it was clear that he had something on his mind. “It’s okay Tyue,” Roene gasped at last, feeling the water against his skin starting to chill his bones. He offered a reassuring, wet, hand to Tyue. “I just needed time to think. And I think, it is time to leave this place.”

Updated --> Background, Organic Arm, Age, Height, Weight, Garral's age...

Balanced on a cliff face as it stood against the brilliant blue of the ocean, a Cerean meditated. His hair had grown long in the weeks spent in solitude and sunk low to frame a weathered face. The wrinkles, scars and calluses could tell tales that would last longer than the man's mouth could articulate and would posit his age as more than it truly was. His face was solemn, but focused. The pale blue of his eyes felt the will of the ocean as it crested upon the rock before him, carving through the harsh stone and crashing back down to the shore. His body was still. His legs were crossed one over the other and his back was held to the contours of stone behind him. Roene held peace in the solidarity of form and balance in the energy that sang in the air above him. The events that transpired on Coruscant shamed the Cerean, leading him to meditate. He fled the site of Jedi atrocity and sought refuge in a natural setting; a setting that would bring him peace; a setting so far from the hands of darkness, that he would find suitable refuge. \\ Vengeance is not the Jedi way. We seek that which is difficult to find and the weakness of impatience takes hold of those who would take fate into their own hands. The rise and fall of human kind is based upon their need for convenience. They would take to war if it meant an easy solution to a difficult problem and that is their misfortune; their blindness \\ Roene’s eyes pooled in the contours of the ocean as his words cascaded through the caverns of his mind in similar patterns. The force billowed through him upon the strings of each cascading stream of consciousness and flowed freely in the vessel of Roene’s body. He existed in the force. Not as a player, but more as a servant to its call. He served the force as much as it served him; a symbiotic relationship that pulled in equal measure. It was through this balance that one could find harmony in the force; the balance in themselves. Darkness was messier. It was built upon the precipice of a one sided relationship. It pulled the force to form its will and as such fed upon itself as much as it fed on the force. It was a self-destructive practice that often resulted in madness. Sure, there was more power to be wrought from raking against the coals and harnessing the fire to suit one’s needs, but it often meant that the fire would burn out quicker. Impatience, rage and vengeance often led to an aggressive consumption of will and force alike, combusting together in a chaotic display of rabid consciousness. It was Roene thought, a corrupt practice. However, the will of Jedi can never influence the will of Sith. Roene knew this. To do so would be to transcribe a pattern on the waves of the ocean. The fury of nature was diverse in its movement and like the Sith, could not be controlled. It was an exercise in futility that the Jedi hoped to strike at the Sith temple. They hoped to avenge their fallen, but in the end, they only succeeded in prodding the cold chill of death. Such a thing was counter intuitive and a smarter plan would have been to bolster their ranks against a future assault. Jedi were defenders, not aggressors. They were peacekeepers, not judges. They were guardians, not arbiters. Like the Sith, their inclinations were to destroy. He could only hope to guide portions of the ocean and live amongst the chaos; to make peace with what he could and to live within a world of darkness. It wasn’t a preferable solution, but Roene wasn’t wholly a subjective man. He could and would suffer many idealists in order to push toward a brighter future for the Jedi. And if he couldn’t.; if Roene could find nothing of the past in the Jedi of today, he would find somewhere else to go.

The trees around the village breathed with new life now that the chief wasn’t plagued. Their leaves and branches filled with euphoria and their bark glowed with a faint amber hue. Creatures that made their homes within and around the trees, welcomed the serenity. Their sounds teemed in the atmosphere and joined with the Wookiee’s as the morning light began to peek through the canopy. Serenity was met at a cost however. Wookiees pleased at their chief’s recovery, were still mournful of their own loss. Parents called aimlessly to the wild in the hopes that their cubs would make it back and the threat of poachers loomed ever near. It was a worthy peace, but a tenuous one at the moment. They looked upon the departure of the Jedi with hope and anticipation. Her presence was enough to divine the chief back to good health and they trusted that she was capable of bringing this terror to an end. _____________________________________________ Meanwhile, as the Fosh dashed through the trees, the smell of ash became more pronounced. It rose into the air, mingling with that of the plants and other animals. The ground was turning a pale charcoal black under her feet and the air seemed to thin as Trushaun drew near the westward forest wall. Particles of ash fell from raised branches and smoke billowed out from the folds of the trees. It was a natural cacophony, ignited by the crackling sounds of branches as they fell from their homes and crashed to the forest floor. Although the fury of this fire was no longer as pronounced, there was every indication that even with its dying breaths, it was claiming the forest. Animals made strangled calls through the smoke in a fruitless attempt to contact the other side, but their sounds only succeeded in adding more to the crescendo of pain felt within this wound. The path of the Wookiee cubs wouldn’t be easy to find in this mess, but a few recognizable predators wandered off from the fire in small groups. The first group was a band of large ape-like creatures. Their arms were longer, they stood taller, and their faces were a bit more menacing, but they bore a striking resemblance to the ape family. The second band was a small group of large predatory felines. Their fur was matted and dirty. They were covered in ash and they looked regretfully for a moment at a large tree that used to be standing not five feet from where Trushaun met them. Both bands of animals followed trails that contained many different tracks, but they went in opposite directions. Their anger was visible in their actions, but they avoided Trushaun when she arrived and continued down their respective paths. No other obvious predators were visible, but other animals were struggling to make it from the corpses of their homes and find better places to live. It was unclear how to motivate the predatory species to move more toward the deeper forests, but the Fosh would have to think of something to make them leave or finding the Wookiee cubs and bringing them back would only be a temporary solution.

The chief's voice was a little grizzly from the wear and tear on his body, but the growls that he sent reassuringly to his clansmen seemed understandable regardless. His posture didn't seem fully upright, but he could hold himself up now and with the strength he had, he looked toward the Fosh and spread his arms to the west. He closed his eyes and began mumbling slightly to himself and through the chief, the Fosh could feel visions of young Wookiees being taken by large beasts; she could feel their cry as if it were her own and divine that whatever riled these beasts had to have been pretty potent. Then, the chief swung his arms in a slightly different direction, toward the hunting grounds, where visions of droids and men sprang to the fore. The men were heavily armed, but were content to stay in one spot for the moment. Their compassion for the wooded lands they now shared was fairly interval, but they had numerous amounts of trophies and they stocked a large amount of inhumane machinations. The droids they had possession of seemed to be remnants of an attack that happened long ago and were reminiscent of wars fought long ago. The visions were short and clear, but when the chief reopened his glazed eyes, he needed to sit down. It wasn't something he did often, especially to outsiders, but this one had expressed a willingness to help and that was above the stock of most outsiders that came to the Wookiee homeworld.

The guard who had helped Trushaun before, read the fatigue written in the Fosh's face. It was harder to grasp by some, but when the Fosh's feet grew light and the smell of blood came to join the plants in the air, the guard bent down to stabilize her potentially fainting form. As to the Fosh's request, the chief nodded silently to her and handed the Fosh a large flask, sliding it from its place at his shoulder. It was reasonably full, and considering her endurance at the moment, the chief made sure the bird creature had a firm grasp on it before he let the flask go and at the same time used his free paw to summon healers from the village to tend to Trushaun's wounds. A small band of around three Wookiees emerged from the pack carrying bags of herbs with them. They looked wizened in their old age; their long white manes reaching the middle of their chests and their eyes, slightly glazed, with the experience of years laden beneath them. The trio walked a little closer to the Fosh making sure not to violently jostle her and prompted the guard to turn her so her back was facing the crowd. He did as he was asked and the old herbalists, feeling the strength of the wound beneath the Fosh's robe, removed enough of the cloth to dab a freshly mixed solution into it. The herbs were meant to relieve pain and prevent infection, but the wound would last. It would scar and forever be a reminder of what the Fosh did here.

A slightly weary chief greeted the bird creature with a soft growl as she gingerly exited the Hut. He nodded slowly toward her in a gesture of reverence and welcomed her into a large embrace. Thank you, the chief growled deeply, but quietly next to the Fosh's head. The light air of the morning caught the voices of the other Wookiees in the procession. They agreed with the chief's sentiment and thank you growls, similar to the chieftan's tone and inclination, were heard all around. Once released, the Fosh could see that the chief was indeed very weary, but hearty and healthy. He was a few heads taller than the Fosh and looked stronger than most of the others there. It wasn't his strength that became his presence though, his age and experience showed in the way he carried himself and was the primary feeling given off by his nature. The other Wookiees honored him as the embrace ended and as a group the Wookiees left to the other parts of the village. There were no more stern or mournful faces in the crowds and although the Fosh had more work to do, the Wookiees seemed a bit brighter about her presence now that their chief was returned safely to them.

((So, in hindsight, I probably shouldn't have made this look like a normal duel, since it isn't, but please humor me a little. I have never done this kind of thing before. )) The figure stood, foolishly grasping to pride and arrogance as it stared daggers through the Fosh's pained realm of consciousness. The presence could see metaphorical representations of the Fosh's thoughts in its 'eyes,' due to the liquidity of her consciousness, grasping for straws and coming up short. It could see her seething wound, pulsing with vitality and gripping the few paths of sensation it had left, drawing attention and overwhelming its victim in this world, where sensations magnified themselves. Instead of supposition and planning however, ignorant laughter rose at what the presence thought was a feeble nature loving gesture provided by the Fosh. Its cackle filled the area with dread and its expression lit the area with nothing but confusion and fear. The aspect of the presence's supposed victory was written all over its laughing face, but its celebration was cut short by a small sapling that pierced the center of its chest. The presence's eyes widened as wood splintered, tearing a hole in the black corruption of its form and although the Fosh's touch no longer influenced the seed, her presence emitted a sense of connection between them. Her energy fed into the sapling and with roots no longer firmly planted, the tree's roots pulled outward, slowly encasing the presence within its firm wooden grip. The doppelgangers slowly dissipated following the defeat of their leader, and although the presence itself seemed lost within the brambles of a newly formed tree, hidden within the Fosh's consciousness, remnants of its energy could be felt pulling through the cracks in the tree, trying to escape. Trushaun's battle was won, but her wound was still deep. The blood seeping to the floor would cause her to fall unconscious. Her eyes would pull heavily upon her until darkness filled them. ___________________________________________ Outside the Hutt, little was heard from either the chief or the bird creature the guard had let through. The Wookiees that were told to leave were getting nervous and before long, they began to try and filter back in. The guard tried to stop them from interrupting the Jedi, but after an hour or so, there was little he could do to avoid being suspicious himself. The tribe's thoughts reached out to their chieftain in his hour of need and before the guard could collect his thoughts and counter the crowd one last time, a few Wookiee's managed to work through the Hut door and into the chief's chambers. There was a loud growl-like gasp that pushed through the din and immediately, all of the Wookiee's nervously waiting outside wanted to know what was going on. They tried to push past the now distracted guard as he joined the crowd heading in, but a new figure caused them all to stop in their tracks. It was their chief. The chief was standing up now, a little crick in his back from lying down too long, but otherwise healthy and conscious. The Wookiees were beset with tidings of feeling and a number of them couldn't resist embracing the chieftan to see if he was real. The guard took a moment to look around, happy that his chief was alive and well, but a little curious as to what happened to the Jedi that was sent in to help him. His eyes were old and it took him a little longer to search for things than most, but after a few moments of searching around the Hut, the guard found the bird creature curled up on the floor of the Hut with a Hawthorn seed clutched firmly in her hand. The guard reached for the Fosh and tried to move her gently to see if she would wake, but except for the color in her face, any signs of life seemed absent. The feathers of the colorful bird creature fluttered a little under the breeze of the Kashyyykian forest. Whisps of pollen caught the air and flew through the Hut windows, drawing their aura and propagating it throughout the village. After a few moments, the guard looked solemnly toward the ground and whispered something at the Hut floor as if ashamed to stare directly at the Jedi on the ground. Then he slowly turned back to face Trushaun's supine figure, got to his feet and walked away. A few moments after he left, the Hawthorn seed in the Fosh's hand began to sprout and the Fosh's chest slowly started to rise and fall...

Thoughts cloudy, presence shifting The presence's footing was rocked as it recoiled from a successful scream, followed with an even more successful slice. The crimson blade that slung low at the presence's side had tasted blood and cockiness was filling the presence's greedy heart as it sat there seething in the satisfaction of exhibiting pain in its prey. Its red eyes boiled through the Fosh's metaphysical shell and down to her roots where he plotted; where the presence could see her weakness and feel her pain oozing from her like the open wound spread across her back. Her presence signified everything that opposed his being; her place in this realm imposed upon the being's power and threatened to bring everything it had tumbling to the ground. It would not stand for it. With weight measured slightly on both balls of its ghost-like feet, the presence entered a stance of its own, pulsing and fed on the corruption inherent of its form. Soon after this development tendrils, pitch black in color and shadowy in nature, spread from the figure's body like wildfire and started to cover the entire area around the presence's feet. The tendrils smelled of nothing but death as they wriggled out and crept cross the ground. They groped the open air around the figure and although the figure's posture never changed, the tendrils that poured from its body like a thick smog, seemed to collect into small pools at its feet. The pools were a little tar like once gathered, but they floated freely just above the ground and were immediately covered in a gaseous haze. It seemed that the presence was also trying to cover the battlefield with ways in which to slow the Fosh, but once the puddles began to move, all conclusions swung toward more chaotic consequences. Each puddle spread out, one on each side, and they slowly began to pulse. The pulses were inaudible and almost invisible at first, but it became clear that once the first puddle started, the other followed and soon enough both puddles were pulsing. The pulses looked like small black energy waves and as one pushed to the other, they got faster and faster, until limbs began to grow from each puddle almost simultaneously with each pulsing spike. A black form began to break its way through the puddle's murky liquid; a larger form from within was doing what it could to rip itself out of the blackened membrane until finally, both forms burst from their puddle prisons at the same time. The figures' bodies matched the one that still stood center, facing the Fosh. The center figure's eyes burned with a slightly duller hue as his two doppelgangers receded from their eccentric cages and when the three finally stood in all, they all stared at the Fosh simultaneously, hate filling their hearts, their minds and their bodies. Crimson fire burned in their hands and all three figures ran full tilt toward the Fosh for the finishing blow, accelerating their bodies beyond their limits to catch the Fosh and show her the power of the darkness; to claim her lifeless husk so they could spread corruption to the rest of the galaxy. As they grew closer though, their feet got caught on the vines and their procession was slowed tremendously. The figures stopped their effort and immediately grasped at their legs, panting violently. All of the figures exhibited exhaustion in their eyes as if that charge meant the world to them, but the figures wore their dark expressions as a mask in the hopes that the Jedi wouldn't catch onto their deception. One of the figures that managed to get close enough though went in for a swing, hoping to get lucky, but the effort of his strike was lacking and his blow came in too slow. ((final -- I will PM you something soon))

((Sorry for the length, I was in a hurry. I am going to be making a longer one for the last post though)) Darkness swelled with each step as the presence moved to adopt a new strategy, but before its thoughts could cement, it felt a surge of energy emanating from the Fosh. The presence could feel with every fiber of its being, the depth of change in the realm of Trushaun's consciousness as grass began to grow under her feet and each new blade of emerald grass made it queasy. The growth of Trushaun's natural energy was so much that it almost drew its attention from the Fosh's force push. It was sudden, and the presence did what it could to catch itself before it went too far. When its balance was its own, the presence looked at the Fosh, malice in its eyes. It growled as it stood its ground and even though it was a low sound, it rumbled the floor. When he blocked the counter attack with his own crimson blade, he turned his head to face the bird creature directly and let out a scream that rapidly escalated to extremely high decibels. Then he turned back and spun around the Fosh's body, moving his double blade along with him and coming back around for another strike, hoping to catch the Jedi off guard. ((2))

The dark presence moved itself from the touch of the Fosh at each physical point covered by her meditation. It did what it could to hold firm in its position and tried to maintain a constant attachment to the chief, but each new attachment it made broke before they could fully form themselves. The dark presence was losing the battle over the chief's body and it was clear that this wasn't going to be easy. So, acting quickly, the dark presence latched itself onto the Fosh's arm as the creature bent to touch the chief and worked its way up her forearm and into her head. There would be time to fight it as its procession grew in speed, but there wasn't anything stopping it from reaching her head and bringing the Fosh to the dusty hut floor... ___________________________________________ Within the tranquility of Trushaun's mind, clouds of smoke rose and fell like the fog of a winter morn. The bird creature was isolated there, amongst the ripples of her consciousness, but she wasn't alone... A dark avatar stood, leering at her from a place of strength not five feet from Tru's form. The dark one's arms were roughly crossed around the bulk of its large black chest and although the form wasn't completely solid, it took on the shape of a larger humanoid being to concentrate its energy and provide an easier form of communication between itself and the interloper. Red glowing eyes burned through what might have once been called eyelids and stared at the fosh with disdain. WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE! The presence bellowed and its voice echoed throughout the fosh's mind as if it were a hollow shell. It strung to the depths of her consciousness with its deep bass resonance. YOU HAVE DISRUPTED MY PURPOSE,THREATENED MY PRESENCE AND FOR THAT I WILL TAKE YOUR BODY IN RETURN... With final words still flowing throughout the chamber of Trushaun's consciousness, the dark presence unsheathed something that glinted with a dull grayish hue. Dark tendrils clasped the air around the being's hands so it wasn't easy to discern what the object was at first, but as the dark presence moved its hands around into a ready position, it pushed a button on the side of the object and two crimson blades of light emerged. Adjacent to the Fosh's feet and hands she would find a metal object of her own, should she choose to wield it. It glinted at her from the clouds of her mind as if beckoning her to its hilt. FACE ME!!! The presence yelled as it charged forward with inhuman speed and twirled its crimson might toward the Fosh's head for a quick victory. ((I apologize for the wait again, but I am determined to get you this. This will be a 3 post duel. This is the first post. And Trial number one begins!!!)) ((1))

As Trushaun entered the chief's hut, eyes turned toward her. The eyes were clouded with misery, but something else lurked behind their glazed, tear-filled orbs. It wasn't easy to see, but upon closer inspection the Wookiee's seemed to glare at her. A dark mist spread through their contention filled ranks and although no Wookiees lashed out at her, there was an air of aggression hanging in hut. When she left, the darkness receded a little, but as her plans became clear, the resonance of corrupt energy rose in the efforts to protect itself. ____________________________________ The guard outside the Hut looked flabbergasted when the Fosh approached her. He clutched his bowcaster a little tighter and stared down the bird with contention of his own. How dare she make demands of us, we are losing our chieftan to a mysterious plague and she wishes us to leave him in his time of need. When the Wookiee thought about it more though, he could see innocence in the bird's actions. There was no malice nor measure of aggression in her actions and hanging around the bird's neck was a relic given to the tribe from a Jedi hero in days of old. So, even though the old Wookiee guard was a little stiff in his resolve, he decided to give it a chance. With his off hand, the guard raised the leather flap and growled lightly at the Wookiees in the Hut. It took a few moments, but with the guard's promise that they could return in time, the Wookiees began to leave the Hut one after another, giving respects to their Chief as they left. __________________________________ The Dark presence from before that filled the Hut seemed to squander with no anchor. It still clung to its victim, but with nothing to feed it, it would surely die out. Now if only the bird creature would come back...

The Wookiee's grasped their bow-casters tightly as the outsider came. Their movements were more based off of fear for their chieftan than the outsiders presence, but ever since their cubs were taken, the Wookiee's had little comfort for anyone but their own kind. Regrettably, the Wookiee guards opened the heavy leather flap leading into the chieftain's hut and it would become irrevocably clear that there was something wrong. Passing the threshold between the hut and the wilds of Kashyyyk would almost be like walking into a cloud of smog for the young Fosh. There were a few Wookiees kneeling around the massive prone form of what appeared to be the Wookiee chieftan. They shed silent tears to what they assumed was their fallen patriarch, but the Wookiee that lay prone was very much alive. There were several patches on the Wookiee chieftan's body moistened with liquid and medicinal herbs as if other Wookiees tried to heal their chieftan, but to no avail. ___________________________ An aura that none of the Wookiees could feel was pouring from the chieftan. It was clear to anyone that looked at him that he had a physical ailment, but if the Fosh was looking hard enough, she would be able to feel an additional dark presence throbbing deep in the chieftan's body. Dark tendrils propagated through the force from the Wookiee chieftan's body and clung to the edges of the Hut, feeding off of the sobbing Wookiee's tears.

((I am once again sorry for the wait, it has been a little bit of a struggle to pull myself away from other involvements.)) The Wookiee''s expression brightened a little, but something about the optimism of the bird creature's statement kept him cautious. He looked deeply at the young Jedi with his dark eyes, buried beneath his large furry eyebrows, and even though his gaze found no root for suspicion, he couldn't help but let his thoughts linger. Regardless, after a moment of silence, the wookiee raised his arm to point at the nearby village. There is where you will find our chief, but... The wookiee hesitated for a moment while he rummaged around for something. His paws groped idly at his form as if he were scratching for fleas, but when the movement stopped, the Wookiee had a little trinket in his hand. Show this to my people and they will know that you are okay to be here. Otherwise my people may not take kindly to your presence. Now, go quietly bird creature... The Wookiee looked over for a moment as the bird creature was escorted away and wished her luck in her journey. ________________________________________ A presence arose in the village. It wouldn't be clear to the Fosh until she came near the village itself, but when any Jedi breached the perimeter of the small village filled with huts, a dark presence could be felt emanating from the chief's domicile.

The Wookiee looked puzzled for a few moments, as if he was working hard to process the mysterious language presented to him, but with his own series of growls to use as basis and helpful gestures, he was able to build a translation. Still, the Wookiee's expression did not bode well for the young Fosh. The Wookie resumed his growls and used hand signal of his own, in the hopes that they would help the Fosh understand. Our problems are our own, but a Jedi... We have had varied experiences with Jedi. (He uses a swinging gesture, as if swinging a lightsaber to give the picture). If what you mean is true, then perhaps you may help. Due to the troubles that have befallen our planet however, we must keep a watchful on you. As to what ails us... The Wookiee continued, without really stressing any word or saying in particular. The Wookiee sticks up three fingers. Our tribe's chieftan is sick with an illness that troubles us. We have tried healing rituals and salves, but nothing has worked. The wookiee lowered one of his fingers. Second, the western region of the forest bordering the shadowlands was burned by a madman and this damage has caused the beasts to move inward, threatening our cubs and the more threatening beasts are devastating our young hunters. The beasts have even managed to run off with a handful of cubs and we don't have any knowledge of their fate. If they could be returned, we would be grateful. The wookiee lowered another finger. Lastly, there are mysterious outsider scouts who have been spotted near our hunting grounds. There was a large battle with malicious metal beings and we think these outsiders wish to invoke the wrath of the metal beings again. We try to stop them, but if we get near they attack... The Wookiee puts his paw to his face and shudders. He looks at the Fosh and awaits a reply, but it is clear that he isn't expecting much. ((I expect long replies from you Tru, and I want a chance to post back challenging posts to each one you do, so this is a challenge and not just something you can swim through. I am thinking of taking a break from RPing, but I want to get you knighted first. So please work with me on this. ))

((my apologies for the wait. )) Before Trushaun could get too far off the landing pad, she was stopped by a big furry hand and a very stern expression. She wasn't being hurt by the large furry creature, but the creature clearly didn't want her to go past the landing pad and into the nearby village. There were a series of growls emitted from the beast and although they seemed like they said something, it was clearly not perceptible by anyone unless they knew what the syllables meant. ((If Tru has a translator or uses the force to understand -- This is what was said: "Bird creature must go, we are having troubles with our tribe and do not wish outsiders present.")) Upon closer inspection, it seems that the Wookiee isn't just pointing out toward the landing pad with his free hand, but the rest of Kashyyyk as well, like there are other tribes and other places to go aside from leaving the planet. Still, something small and feint pulses in the air, beckoning Trushaun to deal with this problem and to not continue with her journey just yet.

___++++ Communication to Trushaun ++++___ ((the message is in text, so there is a translation in Fosh as well, just in case)) It has come to my attention that you, my Padawan, are awake. If you are reading this, then that means the medical droids have released you from the Tython medical ward. Now, I know you have questions and I know you may want to see me, but I feel you have all of the answers you need. I think you have waited long enough and any lessons you need to learn or any lessons I have to teach you will either find their way to you or you will learn in time. So, it is my honor to bestow upon you, your first trial for the rank of Jedi Knight. These trials will be difficult and they will challenge you, but you must do them alone. I cannot come with you. I will meet up with you at the end of all of your trials, but it will take time. Anyway, your first trial. In some of my fairly recent travels I have come across a fairly unique planet named Kashyyyk. You may or may not have heard of it, but your knowledge of it matters not. Kashyyk is a natural wonder, but at the same time an extremely dangerous place. The trees grow into towering monuments that the Wookiees live in. There are hordes of resources that the Wookiees utilize everyday, but due to an increasing number of conflicts going on on their world, the Wookiees have, in some of their villages began to shun outsiders. This is especially distressing considering the value that the Jedi place on their alliance with the planet, considering one of the grandmasters is one of my former teachers, Kirlocca. Your first trial will consist of several tasks. You are to go to the planet of Kashyyyk, warm the hearts of the Kashyyykian officials and earn their trust. Then, you must adventure to one of the lowest parts of the Kashyykian forest and bring back an exotic flower that can only be found there. The flower is around half a man's height, with sapphire petals and glowing white filaments. On the way to the lower levels of the forest, you may find a formerly corrupted tree with bark missing from it. I want you to visit this tree, as I did and remove some bark, as I did, because it will be useful to you later. When you are done with that, leave Kashyyyk and report back to me through your comm device. Good luck on your trial and may the force be with you. ___++++ Communication to Trushaun ++++___

The man stood silent, as if Roene didn't exist. It seemed that anything the Cerean had done to draw this man's attention, failed. To test it out, Roene threw a rock toward the gate with the force and it cracked loudly against the stone. However, when Roene looked over toward the man, he neither moved nor flinched. So Roene's assumptions became less of a possibility and more of a certainty, which was a little inconvenient for him considering the empty answer to his curiosity. Still, Roene couldn't just stand there and do nothing; this man clearly didn't need him. So he decided to make his way back to his campsite to retrieve his things and continue the day. It wasn't the best idea, considering his fatigue, but seeing as how his intention for leaving the campsite was futile, it seemed the better alternative. His legs objected to him though when he put them to their function, but they eventually complied to his demands and the Cerean began his journey toward the wood; the wood that the Cerean had lived in or around, off and on for the past three years or so. He knew every tree, every log, every rock and every path. Roene never really got sick of the scenery though. It was simple and peaceful; something that he really enjoyed despite its commonality. It wasn't the only place in the galaxy though and as Roene walked through the trees, acquainting himself with the wildlife once more, he felt a little off. He felt like he could do with a little diversity and some time out of his comfort zone. The trees were his home, but to really challenge himself as a Knight of the order, he needed to seek a Padawan and seek challenges. He couldn't just wait on Tython for one to appear. It seemed fruitless and pointless. Roene was separated from the Galaxy at large, which felt too deafening. He stopped once he reached his campsite and gathered his things. He whistled slowly for his dog, turned on his heel and then began walking toward the city without an extra word toward the opposite. He had to leave and see more of the galaxy if he was to feel more in touch with other forms of nature and the force. It was a simple choice and one that wasn't really thought out, but most good ideas weren't that well thought out.

Roene pounded a boulder and hurled it through the air with great effort through the force and as much support as he could give from his body. The boulder flew wildly at first, but as the Cerean guided a hammer fist through the air, the boulder followed and smashed into the ground beside him, sending hundreds of small rock pieces into the air and pelting everything nearby, including Tyue. The small dog grumbled a little, trying to avoid most of the debris and then taking a few moments to get what rock he did have, off of him. Roene did a little bit of the same, despite the small ratio of rubble that actually sprayed him compared to Tyue. Due to this particular reaction, he somehow regretted the act of throwing such a large boulder and digging it out of the ground in a matter of minutes, even though he was attempting to do just that a day or two ago. Still though, his ability was unrefined, he had little control over how big or small the boulders or rocks were and even less control on how it would splinter if it smashed into something. Progress was progress though, and even through the sweat pouring down his face and chest, he smiled in satisfaction. It was a job well done with still much left to learn. Roene took a moment to breath deeply the Tython air and wipe his face with a spare cloth he had lying around beside him. It was a slight more dirty than some were used to, but Roene didn't really mind. The soil was part of nature and as such wasn't something to be spurned. After he was done, he took a small stick and threw it off into the woods in order to distract the irritated dog that ran off after it. It was his favorite game to play and seemed to resolve even the biggest conflict between them. It was odd, but somehow Roene understood how something so mundane could entertain an animal such as Tyue even though Tyue was a little bit more intellectual then anyone else could tell. In fact, it was that very attribute that led Tyue to look annoyed at Roene when he tried time and time before to distract Tyue with an invisible stick. Roene could see the excited eyes of Tyue as he grabbed the stick and started his quick trek back, but when Roene took a moment for an offset glance he caught something else through the trees. Judging from the angle and colors that were revealed through the trees, the object wasn't that big, but its shape was still too amorphous to make out properly. So Roene used the force and pushed through the trees to see the man more clearly. Someone was moving through the trees nearby. Roene put down his things, strapped his light saber to his belt and without a clean shirt to wear he just ran through the field after the man, taking care not to be seen or heard. He jumped into a nearby tree and swung from branch to branch in pursuit. It was fairly difficult to do, as was obvious by the faint panting sounds that the Cerean had to use the force to suppress, but Roene had studied animals in the forest as they moved about and sought after months of practice to mock them. His technique wasn't quite as effective as most of the animals, but he wasn't really built to continuously propel himself from tree to tree through the branches, so logically he had to rest occasionally. When Roene came to the forest's edge and saw the man in his entirety, there seemed to be something wrong with his movement. He was walking slowly and stumbled occasionally almost as if he didn't want to impose upon the ground he was treading on. It was oddly considerate, but somehow unnatural as the man's gait pushed him ever forward toward the Tython temple. From where he was perched, Roene couldn't get much of an angle on him, but he appeared to be a little smaller than Roene if you didn't count Roene's cone head. Roene assumed this meant he was a young adult, but from the distance Roene was looking, he couldn't get a solid impression of age. With continued inspection though, the man seemed lost. His gait was caused of timidness not clumsiness and as it often is for new members of the Order, it was reasonable enough to conclude of the man's confusion. Roene did have other things to do, but part of him sympathized with the man. The least he could do was introduce himself; it was only courteous and what were the Jedi if not courteous. Courtesy demanded quickness though, because first impressions were typically made... Well, first. So, Roene jumped from his tree perch and flexed his legs before slipping to the ground in a nice somersault that launched him to his feet. Then the Jedi Knight tensed slightly as he felt the force around him fill his body to whatever capacity it could hold and when it was done, the Cerean shot like a bullet from the treeline toward the door of the Tython Jedi temple. This might have scared anyone new to the force if they could see it straight on, but Roene counted on the man's focus toward the interior of the temple to work for him. When Roene was within reasonable talking distance though, he slowed himself gradually and anchored himself to the ground with his feet. They were bare, as was his chest, but he didn't really think it was that big of an issue because his feet were callused and it was actually quite warm outside. The Cerean leaned on the gate for a moment and probed the man's mind slightly. Not enough to jar him, but enough to make him pay attention. Then he spoke aloud, trying to get his attention. "Hello, I was just on a jog about the forest. I am Knight Givrah. Who might you be and what might you be doing in this neck of the woods?" Roene's candor was soft, but appropriately loud so as to compensate for the distance. He didn't want to startle the man and hoped his timid pace didn't mean he truthfully was timid, but Roene was doing his best to be careful just in case.

A distant breeze spooled through the forest of Tython, taking with it the leaves that were meant to fall. Autumn was approaching on Tython and the once lavish green of its fauna, ignited with an array of gold, red and brown. The traverse through Tython's wood was varied in its occupancy, but the beauty of its shimmering treetops was enough to beget the trivial consequences of a casual presence. It was peaceful, serene... quiet. There were however, occasional bristles of fallen leaves as animals and other passersby stepped over them. In fact, a small pup that was nearing maturity played softly in a pile of golden leaves adjacent to a figure that sat utterly silent. The figure was sitting cross legged on a stump with his hands resting upon the sides of his knees. He was robed, as most on this planet were and while his countenance gave nothing away, his face was familiar. He was a Cerean and one that had been in the order for several years, but he did not reside in the temple. Many who saw him in the woods sought contently to question his resolve in this manner, but his answers left them more puzzled than they were when they asked. Then, without any more questions to put forth, they would simply leave. Time came and went without the Cerean's notice. He could feel the presence of his former Padawan as she awoke and left his aid for what she deemed a better prospect and he trusted her judgment. Whether his notion was of honest trust or mild vengeful humor, he didn't really speculate. The ultimate guide would be her own to see. It wasn't his decision to make, nor would his forcing her to stay, prove any more useful to her than anything else. It was nature's way; it was the force's way of pulling us through life's chaotic mysteries. One minute, we hold a leaf; the illusion of control is complete. The next minute however, the leaf pulls away, led upon its path by no predestined scholar, but by the will of its captor; fate. Roene was content to speculate and meditate alone, because such were his habits, his quirks. He did offer attention to Tyue when he had the time to spare, but the pup seemed contented to fare on its own and visit its family whenever it wished. So Roene let him come and go as he pleased. After all, what arbitrary will did Roene have over the will of a dog aside that of threat. The threat of force or what illusory power grants; a thought or motivation that serves but to tear at the balance of a peaceful interaction. It wasn't Roene's choice. Lately though, in between the Cerean's meditation and Tyue's long absences, Roene would practice his growing talent with the elements of the land. He had, over the past few years since his first indoctrination toward this particular way of thinking, finished understanding and implementing the ways of water. He wasn't pretentious enough to believe that he was anywhere near a master of it, but he was adequately skilled. His new challenge though, dwelt within the stone and rocks of the planet beneath him. The very foundation of the planet that made up its superstructure was unyielding. The soil may have been soft and easy to kinetically manipulate, but the rock beneath was harder to move. It was harder to push into and even though Roene had worked at it for months, he had only successfully achieved a small amount. His training exercises regularly involved standing utterly still, memorizing the position of the stone, moving in rigid steps and pushing each movement with a sharp inclination in the hopes that it might do something. His attempts more often than not failed to achieve a desired result though and would result in some less than fruitful data, but these things, despite their negative pull, didn't do much to discourage the Cerean. If anything, each failure pushed him to move further with each and every step he took. Until one day, Roene was physically running at a boulder that he set to roll down a hill back toward him. With an objective opinion, he figured anyone observing would think him insane. He was even close to losing his nerve, before he successfully rooted himself in the ground against the mammoth and pushed the large rock away. He felt proud of that feeling, when he was standing there facing down the rock and he didn't budge. It was almost as if... Roene's mind flickered back to the present as a cold nose brushed against his foot unexpectedly. The Cerean jumped an inch, but calmed his reaction before scaring away Tyue, who was poking Roene to see if the Cerean was awake and wanted to play. Roene grumbled a little in response, because he didn't particularly like being disturbed during meditation, but the dog truly did want attention. So, Roene looked into Tyue's eyes for a moment and watched as he ran off. I will be with you in a few moments. I... I just need to try something first. Roene could feel the dog's irritation at his persistent avoidance, but Roene's promises were sincere, so the dog didn't seek to push the need any further. Instead, the pup watched quietly on the side as his master walked slowly toward a large rock face. It was a large piece of mountain side on the edge of the forest, halfway between the Jedi temple and the only real 'city' on Tython. It was mostly sheer, but there were still jutting edges here and there, that served as markings for past attempts at what Roene was hoping to do. Roene marked his breathing as he approached the site with Tyue in toe and before reaching the wall, Roene set into his stance, with flexed muscles and hard joints. Nothing was hyper extended, but everything was strong and stiff. The Cerean's mind cleared of everything except the euphoria and strength he felt when facing down that boulder a few days ago. He let the feeling consume him and sustain the will he had to maintain the strength of his stance. Then, when Roene felt his mind and body balance, he moved with his focus leaning towards the rock face. He pushed his arms out to the limit of flexion and pushed his feet more and more into the ground, pulling the energy from the stone beneath him and maintaining its circuitous flow. It was a simple move, with so many complex thoughts and meditations, but Roene didn't know if it worked. To be honest, he was almost sure it hadn't, based on previous experiences. However, when the Cerean opened his eyes, a chunk of the mountain wall had jutted out fully from its base. There was now a foot square stone fixture hanging above and to the left of Roene's head. Now, before regarding his own merits, the Cerean decided to test the move one more time to be sure it was him. This time however, Roene would do the entire process with his eyes open to the world around him and all the distractions it wrought. So Roene stiffened back into his previous posture and instead of pushing his arm straight out like before, this time, he focused on the stone fixture and pushed down with all he could. For the moment following Roene's immediate movement, the fixture just stood there mocking his strain. However, in the split seconds following his powerful strike, the fixture moved rapidly to the ground in a loud boom that echoed through the forest. The sound was so loud that Tyue jumped a few feet into the air, before jumping around in demonstrations of euphoric glee. Roene looked back at the pup with a small smile, before expanding the smile to fill his face in acknowledgment of his own achievement. He had done it and now that he knew the basic principles, he was left to practice as much as he did with water. He had much more work to do before he would consider himself finished and even then he would still seek more knowledge. Roene wished to learn the mysteries that weren't easy to teach and share them with others. First however”¦ Roene thought to himself as he grabbed a stick off the ground and threw it. I need to play with Tyue.

Roene's strengthened gaze stretched over the plains upon the strings of the morning light that danced upon the horizon. The grace of the morn pronounced itself through the heralds of birdsong and the crystalline beads upon the grass that glint gold under the sun. Roene's thoughts did not stir, but his eyes opened. He took a breath and swept the cold morning air into his weary lungs, parting their fatigue and embracing the wake of the morning light. Upon his consciousness, the Cerean's skin felt moist to the touch and his eyes consumed with the energy of early luminescence. He was an observer; he was a watcher; he was the guardian; and he was the protector. Roene's head bowed instinctively to the golden ball in acquiescence of a silent pact and without so much as a pause for breath, Roene got to his feet and left the roof. He took a short stone path off the precipice of the temple and into a large corridor that stretched with the rule of each callused foot. After all, the Cerean's gait was carried upon the will of his feet, but Roene's gaze left further still. His presence lingered onward, but he could still feel the stale air of the temple swirl around him, clinging to his robes, continually trying to constrict the vibrancy of morning breath from his lungs. However, their attempts were for not. The depths of the chamber, in its avarice laden depravity, were nothing to the outside world. Even stones, once of the earth, still reeked of manipulation and manifestation. There was nothing as true as nature itself; a model for all things. Roene scaled staircase after staircase, breezing past younglings and elder Jedi of all types as they practiced. He could see swarms of men lured to levy their wakeful needs, but none following his steps. His head swam with murmured thoughts and mumbled speech, with human need and human sense, but his eyes pierced through the perceptible fog and claimed the natural splendor of the Tython forest for his own. It wasn't long before his path brought him to the floor level and within sight of the world outside. He could see the threshold with his eyes and his mind. He could feel the freedom of the light as it danced upon the walls and the warmth of the star as it rose above the hills. As he grew closer his feet longed for the grass. His bare feet upon the cold stone longed for the feel of the grass beneath them. They longed for peace and frivolity; for unbridled potential and incomprehensible sensation”¦ They longed to return; their return to the whole of nature's bosom. Roene's procession gathered speed until it met the thin veneer threshold that many Jedi passed on their way into or out of the temple; a veneer that stood the test for those who would call themselves Jedi and embraced all who passed. It was there that Roene paused for a moment and took one more look; it was there that Roene's mind found the hearts of his students where they dwelt. He could feel them resting and knew it was not him to disturb them where they lay. He could see both halves of his life now from one angle. He stared at the stoic and stalwart identity that was held within the temple and the wild heart of the world beyond. He looked deep into the history of each structure both of which he called home and waited with the tempered patience of a morning fog as it crept across the plain. His next steps were mediated, but hardly wasted as he chanced the cold morning air and stepped onto the temple grounds and out into the world”¦

Night fell upon the Cerean, the light of the twilit star shined over the tips of the trees as it passed, and his meditation bore no equivocal change in intensity. His mind steeled resolve even beyond the churning of his stomach and the chaotic staccato of the water pulsing thick into the slats particularly designed to straddle the current of its mighty flow. He had been at his meditative stance for hours now, studying the water in his mind. He looked upon it through the force, through a microbial lens conjured in the force and even through varying perspectives. He studied its molecular structure and the energy harnessed through the fury of its pull, trying to deduce the ways in which its temperature changed with the flowing wind. The water flowing around him bore no particular change to the water in the falls, aside from its practiced manipulation and their silent inactive forms. No. There was another difference. Roene could feel the water balling up in his hands a bit more than the water that raged around him. The water in his hands was malleable and posed at the whims of his moving fingers. It was an interesting thing, but felt all the more real as the night crept over the forest and a chill set around him. The Cerean could feel the cold beads of humidity as they bunched on his head and he could feel the temperature fluctuation in both his own body and the bodies of water that floated around him. He brought the flux of energy, although subtly led upon the cold shift of the wind, into his mind as it went. There was a curious simplicity to it that Roene knew all too well through the study of chemistry, but it still intrigued him. How much of my energy would it take to change the physical manifestation of the water? Roene contemplated to himself and took one of the balls of water for the initial attempt. He stared keenly through the shifting and bending ball of liquid and concentrated more of his own energy through the ball as if to cool it. But instead of a drop in temperature, the water began to froth and bubble. Roene always knew that he could shift the heat in his own body, but it appeared that external heating, akin to a flame and the energy prescribed with such things, could be emulated through the force. Once Roene could feel the extreme heat radiating from his palm the water steamed and rejoined the atmosphere. For a moment Roene's concentration flustered as he tried to re-claim the wild steam and cool it, but it was too late. So, Roene shifted the other ball of water from his left hand and into his right to begin the study once more. This time, instead of infusing the water with energy, he channeled the kinetic energy manifested through the beating molecules of the water into his hand. He tried to displace the energy and even though this felt a little easier than the last attempt, something about his right hand seemed to follow suit and when the ball of water froze, his arm almost felt numb. He could still feel it, but it seemed his hand was mocking the flow of the water's shift in temperature. It was following the water as it cooled, even when his palm had absorbed the molecular energy. Peculiar”¦ Interesting and peculiar”¦ Roene let the ball of ice roll off of his hand onto the surface of the roof and watched it shatter through the gleaming veridian ampules of his mind. Then, when he felt sure that it would be really hard to retrieve all of the pieces, he bent down close to the roof and held his open right hand over the shards. He released the energy he displaced from the ball before and observed as the ice shards reoriented themselves into water. The tiny flecks of water tried to sink into the cold stone, but Roene's hand didn't move. He grasped the water in his mind and limbered his hand, moving his organic limb to the graceful flow of the wind around him and, to his content surprise, the water and moisture from the stone seemed to follow it and form a ball once more. It wasn't perfect and some pieces remained on the stone, but Roene's tired smile, showed the pleasance with which he embraced his progress. Then, even though his body pleaded with him to sleep, he settled for intense seated meditation upon the roof to regain his strength and energy. Tomorrow, he would head for the woods.