SithLore

OOC: This thread contains, or will eventually contain, archived training/character development posts for the character Tryjo. These posts were originally posted on the old Yuku board when Tryjo was a member of the Shadow Order. My intent is to further develop Tryjo, who fell into obscurity approximately 10 years ago, and slowly bring him into the present timeline. I have found most of my old posts, but I've still got to dig up my old avatar and signature. I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes...

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to serve as leveling Tryjo from Force level 1 to Force level 2. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: Ever trying to improve his abilities in the Force, Tryjo would often take to training at random times, in random places. When he would begin an impromptu session, Tryjo would usually only practice the skills that he already had a basic understanding of, as studying new techniques was reserved for more appropriate places. Tryjo was sitting in one of the dining halls of the temple, having just finished a meal of much nutritional value, when he pulled the familiar little ball bearing from his pocket and placed it on the tabletop before him. Tryjo had recently accomplished the task of making the little steel ball roll by using his ability to control Force energy, but the ever vigil student he was, Tryjo would continue to improve upon this ability.

Thinking back to his rather large, stoic friends in the meditation chamber, Tryjo reflected on how he had manipulated the field of Force energy to propel the bearing across the floor. It was a daunting task at the time, but now having a basic understanding of the process, Tryjo felt more confident in his ability to command the ball to roll. There were still several individuals in the dining area, but Tryjo would not let their presence be a distraction to his concentration. He rested both his arms on opposing sides of the table with his thumbs facing upward, forming a wall of sorts on both sides of the table. Looking at the ball bearing, Tryjo began to focus his mind upon the task of making it roll.

Tryjo reached out with his senses and could feel the Force moving through the dining hall. This was always a unique experience to Tryjo, as due to the connective properties of the Force, it seemed to always be present, no matter what his location. Studying the energy’s ebb and flow as it followed its natural course, Tryjo allowed himself to become immersed in its current, feeling its very nature; all the while Tryjo kept his physical vision on the bearing that sat upon the table. As he continued to wrap his senses around the threads of Force energy around him, Tryjo centered his mind in preparation of manipulating this energy for his own ends.

Feeling that he was properly prepared, Tryjo began to beckon the Force to bend to his will. Summoning an energy field toward his very position, Tryjo focused on the area between his arms, as this would be the focal point for the transfer of energy between the Force and the ball bearing. Tryjo continued to pull more ambient energy from his surroundings to the gap between his arms in an attempt to build a field of energy strong enough to propel the ball upon his command. The strength of the energy field continued to grow until Tryjo stopped the process when he felt that he had gathered enough potential energy to work with. Tryjo began to look upon the ball of energy before him as a potter would look upon a ball of clay ready to be shaped into a useful object. Using his mental prowess over the Force, Tryjo began to mold and shape the ball of energy to fit his needs. First by flattening it out, and then by forcing the energy away from the center of the ball and making it flow along the outer edges; thus making a donut shaped energy field. With the energy field properly conditioned and in place over the bearing, Tryjo began to decree it to spin rapidly. The energy began to flow faster and faster in its circular fashion until it began to impede upon the gravity holding down the ball bearing. As this process continued, the tiny steel ball began to follow the circular flow of energy along its path around the table.

A definite improvement since his last attempt to move the bearing, Tryjo was pleased with his progression. Letting his concentration slip away, the field of circling energy quickly dissipated and returned to its natural flow amongst the current. Of course, the tiny ball followed its natural path, and due to centripetal force, it flew off the table to be lost from view. It would not be that great of a disappointment to Tryjo to lose the tiny ball, as it had been a great help in aiding him in his aim to better understanding the Force and its potential to move mountains.

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is for the purpose of leveling Tryjo from Force level 2 to Force level 3. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: Tryjo had been privy to following along with Quinton to the planet Tatooine on a scouting mission, although Quinton did most of the scouting and Tryjo did mostly nothing. Of course this was only natural as Tryjo was still a mere learner and lacked most of the higher skills necessary to be successful in the present task at hand, so he was not in any way disheartened by his role as a shadow so to speak. But, today, Quinton had left Tryjo at a local street market while he was out chasing down whatever or whoever it was he was searching for, and Tryjo took the opportunity to browse the local markets until Quinton returned.

Tryjo was a peaceful man by a combination of strict discipline and an adherence to a set of principles and beliefs that he held close to his heart. However, it would be foolish not to learn the ways of a warrior, as others, more often than not, do not hold peace in such a high regard and would rather make preemptive strikes at the first opportunity. This is why Tryjo had been involved in a few hand-to-hand combat training sessions, but also he had been studying the art of light weapon use and creation. He had not had any formal training sessions yet, but he was familiar with the basic concepts of a couple different forms, and he was also familiar with the montage of components that were encased within the hilt.

As Tryjo walked along the street market, he decided to try and practice one of his previous skill achievements, life sense. There were people everywhere, but Tryjo was inclined to try and individualize them through the Force and to also seek out those who were out of his visual and auditory range. Seeking out the every living Force energy around him, Tryjo beckoned to it as he walked along through the market. With haste, the energy field flooded his senses with information about the life around him, indicating a large number of lifeforms. Looking through the very fabric of the Force itself, Tryjo began to try and separate and sort the various lifeforms that were present. Do to the sheer number of people and their close proximity to each other, this proved to be most difficult; they were also in constant motion so this added to the challenge. In an attempt to accomplish his goal, Tryjo delved even further into the realm of his sensibility to try and recognize different aspects between the various people. Thus, helping him to gain a better understanding of the individualistic characteristics that made up each person, while allowing him to better judge his progress in advancing his skill.

Taking a moment to stop and rest in a shadowy spot between a droid repair shop and a rummage bin, Tryjo began to sense something odd. This was something different than the lifeforms he had been previously seeking out, and was nothing like he had ever felt before. The Force seemed to be calling to him and directing him toward the old, dilapidated droid shop to which he was standing near. The sensation was peculiar, as Tryjo had never experienced a feeling such as this, and he was unsure as to how he should respond to the call. As Quinton was under a cloud of darkness due to his mission and could not be contacted for support, Tryjo was left on his own to determine the best course of action. The Force continued to hearken Tryjo toward the droid shop, and he could no longer withstand its alluring sensation. Evil? No, or at least Tryjo did not think that the sensation harbored any ill will toward him or Quinton. It was more of a personal feeling, like Tryjo was supposed to enter the shop, yet for reasons unknown. And with a quick step, Tryjo set off around the corner, following the path of energy to its source.

Ah, welcome customer! Welcome to T’locka Droid Shop. May I help you with something? The local shop owner was a short, stocky fellow with a shock of bright red hair atop his head that was almost distracting when Tryjo gazed upon him. He was a humanoid of sorts, but Tryjo could not readily discern what species, but he spoke basic and seemed friendly enough. ”I am just … looking. Thank you for your courteousness, but I will let you know if I need any assistance.” The shop owner waived Tryjo off to browse about the store, and he returned to his work soldering droid components. The feeling was now quite intense, as Tryjo had turned his attention back to the Force and why it beckoned him to this place of mangled metal and spare parts. Looking amongst the rubbish, Tryjo spied something that caught his attention. His physical eyes saw nothing more than a power cell with some related components, but through the Force, the parts were alive and glowing, teaming with their own energy. Realizing that there must be some significant value to these mere pieces of metal, Tryjo quickly grabbed them up for purchase.

Having paid the shop owner for the power cell and related components, Tryjo once again found himself standing in the street amongst the masses of people. He had the parts tucked safely in his pocket and he began to stroll toward the spaceport where he was to meet Quinton upon his return. The walk was long, hot, and uneventful for the most part, as Tryjo reflected back over the events at the droid shop. He had no explanation for the how or why, but with any luck, Quinton could expound on the issue and help bring some light into the darkness. As Tryjo entered the passenger staging area, he saw Quinton sitting in a chair on the far side of the room. He looked to be well rested, almost as if he had been there the entire time, but nonetheless. Tryjo quickly strode over to him and took a seat by his side. ”I trust your mission was a success, Quinton.

”It was.”

”Very good. I had a strange experience while you were on task. I …”

In mid-sentence, Quinton raised his hand and motioned for Tryjo to stop speaking. ”The Force dictates our lives, Tryjo. You were at the droid shop for a reason. Right now you are not in a position to understand, but in time you will. Keep the components you purchased safe, as they will be part of the tool you use to spread our doctrine across the galaxy.” Tryjo was a bit dumbfounded by what Quinton had spoken. How did he know? Was this the entire purpose of this trip? More questions than answers had been surmised by the end of the trip, but Tryjo trusted Quinton and would heed his words with respect and caution. Both men continued to sit quietly until their transport arrived to see their safe passage back to the Temple.

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to level Tryjo from Force user level 3 to Force user level 4. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: The planet Ruusan … It was an interesting place, somewhere that Tryjo would not figure he would be exploring, but be it as it may, Quinton had sent Tryjo to Ruusan to gather an item of great importance. Not for Quinton mind you, but for Tryjo himself, as one finial piece of the puzzle was missing. But, where to begin? Tryjo did not have any specialized sensing equipment, no map, no guide – nothing that would aid him in his search. The only tool that Quinton allowed Tryjo to take with him was his natural abilities over the ever living Force. ”It will guide you and direct you as needed,” Quinton had stated to Tryjo prior to his departure, but presently, standing in the vastness of an open field, Tryjo was skeptical of his chances of finding his prize – a Ruusan crystal.

Looking over the natural topography of the land, spread out before Tryjo like that of a great unexplored region of space, nothing seemed to grasp his attention; not in the physical or mystic sense. So, with the shrug of his shoulders, Tryjo set out across the open plain toward a vast canyon that split the landscape in half. The canyon itself was unremarkable, most likely cut over many centuries by a local river or tributary that came from a mountainous region nearby. It was, however, very old, as indicated by the sedimentary sections of rock that could be counted along the canyon walls, and this is what lead Tryjo to believe that there would most likely be a cave dwelling etched somewhere within the deep ravine.

The terrain was somewhat loose and rocky to say the least, but the overall climate was rather conducive to the exercise of descending the steep paths toward the canyon floor. As Tryjo ever so carefully placed one foot in front of the other, being cautions not to loose his footing and take a tumble down several hundred feet of rock-face, he couldn’t help but remember some of his earliest memories on Iridonia. Tryjo had often explored many remote areas of his homeworld, often taking unnecessary risks in vain attempts to reach ancient ruins that were marked as mystical temples. But, digressing back to the task at hand, Tryjo quickly tried to vanquish his memories – his stroll down memory lane – from his mind and focus on finding the crystal for which he came to this forsaken planet.

Stretching out with his sense of the Force energy around him, Tryjo began to attempt to feel any subtle changes in its flow or intensity, as this might indicate a possible direction toward finding the Ruusan. Of course, Tryjo’s sensing abilities were still far to wild and untrained to be able to discern, with any reasonable accuracy, any disturbances within the Force itself. But, this would not keep him from trying to learn to detect such vibrations of changes within the very nature of the Force. Reaching out with his mind’s eye, Tryjo began to grasp hold of threads of Force energy and analyze them with the astuteness of a Mon Calamarian scientist. With each passing step, Tryjo would pull more and more threads of energy toward his body, hoping to be able to distinguish any subtle sign or vibration within the threads of energy. The web of Force energy that Tryjo was weaving continued to grow until the concentration needed to maintain his grasp over the energy field grew to a point to where he could no longer manage the sheer amount of power. Thus, the threads of energy began to slip away, one by one, until Tryjo realized that his attempts were futile and released them all back to their natural flow.

Disheartened, but not defeated, Tryjo continued along the narrow path until he reached the canyon floor. A small stream, which contained an unusually cold flowing water, flowed along the base of the canyon walls. Tryjo stooped down and took a long slow gulp of water from the stream and then wiped his brow with his sleeve, which he had dunked into the water to act as a cooling cloth of sorts. Looking both up and down stream, Tryjo gave an audible sigh, as he was totally lost and did not have any sense on which way to proceed. It was at this point that a glimmer of hope rained down upon Tryjo in the form of an apparition some hundred or so meters upstream. Tryjo was not sure to what he was visualizing, but it was movement, so he made haste and began to close the gap between himself and this entity. It was not until Tryjo was nigh upon the creature that he surmised what he had been seeing, ”A Bouncer.”

Tryjo looked upon the Bouncer with great intrigue, as he had heard stories of the infamous creatures but had never actually seen one in the flesh. Slowly raising his arms and placing his plams forward to indicate he was unarmed, Tryjo methodically approached the Bouncer in an attempt to make some sort of contact. One might have thought that the creature was carved directly into the stone in which it was sitting, as it remained perfectly motionless upon Tryjo’s approach. He actually began to wonder if the creature was dead and was about to utilize his life sensing abilities in the Force to probe the Bouncer when there was movement in one of the creature’s tentacles. The appendage quickly raised and began to point toward the opposite side of the canyon as if it were directing Tryjo to proceed in that direction. Still somewhat bewildered by the entire encounter, Tryjo decided to take heed to the creatures directional message and proceed across the canyon.

A darkness appeared in the wall of the canyon as Tryjo grew ever so closer to his destination. This was no phenomenon; it was an opening! Tryjo sprang toward the cave opening with a zest and zeal that would have been unmatched by any competitor, but upon turning back to acknowledge his Bouncer comrade that had given him the assistance, his enthusiasm quickly faded; the Bouncer had vanished. It could have been that the creature simply left the area, but Tryjo had a suspicion that there were greater forces at work; forces that were far beyond anything he had yet to encounter. Turning back to the opening within the solid rock wall, Tryjo peered into the darkness to try and catch a glimpse of any ambient light; there was none. Tryjo was sure that if Quinton were present he would have some whimsical remark about the parallels between the cave and life with the Force, but now was not the time for such idle thoughts. A cool breeze flowing from the cave quickly brought Tryjo back to conscious reality and the mission at hand; find the Ruusan crystal. Reaffirming his determination and seeking to summon as much courage as he could muster, Tryjo took a step and broke the threshold into the darkness of the cave.

It was a dank and musty place to say the least, as Tryjo slowly made his way further into the mouth of the cave. The ambient light slowly began to fade away the further Tryjo moved into the bowels of the earth, and soon Tryjo would find himself surrounded by darkness. Not being in possession of any light source, Tryjo stopped before he went any further into the wretched place and began to summon upon the Force to do his bidding. Seeking out the field of energy around him, Tryjo began to mold the Force into the shape of an orb and placed it directly to his front. Delving deep within his own ability to sense his surroundings, Tryjo began to focus upon the area with the orb of Force energy he had created; looking for the tiny elements of oxygen, nitrogen, helium, and the countless others that existed as free gases. There – it did not take too terribly long for Tryjo to recognize the individual elements contained within the orb and once this had been accomplished, Tryjo could set about manipulating the tiny particles to emit photons or light particles. With great care and skillful precision, Tryjo began to vibrate the orb of Force energy in an attempt to break loose the orbiting electrons of the particles contained within the orb and force them into a higher orbit. He was not exactly sure to what frequency he would have to make the orb resonate to accomplish this goal, but with patience, Tryjo ever so slightly continually adjusted his grip on the orb and its resonance. Then, almost as if a switch had been thrown, a brilliant light began to illuminate the path before Tryjo – Success. Quickly taking the time to reinforce the orb as not to allow the light emitting photons to escape, Tryjo reaffirmed his concentration, as losing his only source of light deep within the innards of the cave could be deadly.

Tryjo reached out through the Force and began to push his orb of light ahead of him as he began to descend deeper into the recesses of the cave. It was a fabulous sight to say the least, with a host of ancient symbols littering the walls. Of course Tryjo had no idea of what they meant, but to merely lay his eyes upon them was invigorating in and of itself as no one had probably done so in many lifetimes. It was at this point that Tryjo realized that he had neglected a matter of great importance – was he alone? Tryjo reached out and took hold of a thread of Force energy and began to follow it as it intertwined with other threads of energy that flowed throughout the cavern. As he followed each thread of energy, Tryjo subtly probed the area for any signs of life, be it humanoid or other. Tryjo had come to far to be caught off guard, and thus he continued to quietly probe the cave with tendrils of the ever living Force. Many distinct lifeforms could be detected by his probing, but Tryjo quickly became satisfied that he was the dominate creature within the cavern – the only humanoid as the rest were insects and the like. Once again pushing his light orb ahead of him, Tryjo continued further into the dwelling, searching for any sign of a Ruusan.

Tryjo quickly discovered that the cave was not very large in size, and he had almost explored the entire interior in a very short time. There were only a few separate areas remaining to be examined, and Tryjo was hoping that one of these areas would contain his beloved, yet elusive, crystal. As Tryjo entered one of the last open rooms, he positioned his orb of light at the center of the room; allowing for maximum dispersal of light across the area. Kicking around a few loose rocks, Tryjo carefully examined each nook and cranny of the immediate area with no luck. Beckoning to his light orb to move on to the last area of the cave to be explored, Tryjo was met with resistance, as the orb would not move. Tryjo thrust his left hand toward his creation and began to fervently tug on the orb, but to no avail; it would not move. Tryjo was perplexed to say the least – the orb remained functional, but he had no control over it no matter how much he tried.

Continuing to stare at the orb of light, Tryjo quickly began to question the reasons why he would have lost control over the ball of light. Nothing came to mind, but then again, Tryjo was only a student in the ways of the Force and most certainly would not have the knowledge or wisdom to discern such things. Nonetheless, Tryjo continued to try and manipulate his creation until something very strange happened – the orb moved. Not under the will of Tryjo however, it was moving on its own; slowly and methodically traversing the room. The orb came to rest over a small pile of rocks in the corner of the room, and once there, it started to resonate Force energy unlike any he had seen before. Tryjo cautiously approached the unsuspecting pile of rocks and began to move the smaller ones off to the side. As he picked and prodded, Tryjo came upon a discovery that excited him immensely – a Ruusan crystal! It was a marvelous thing to behold, and as Tryjo gazed upon it, he could sense the connection between himself and the crystal beginning for form; even before he laid a hand upon it.

As Tryjo reached his hand into the crevice to pluck out the crystal, a tingling sensation overcame him and his body became very warm. Tryjo could sense the Force beginning the swirl around him, permeating him and the crystal, bonding the two together as one cohesive entity. Tryjo took the crystal in his hand, observing it as it glowed with a power of its own. A conglomerate of colors emerged from the object, and even though it was rough and uncut, it was a thing of beauty to behold. As the Force continued to imbues itself within the crystal, Tryjo’s own senses began to become overstressed. A rush of raw power coursed through the very fabric of Tryjo’s existence, and it was all he could do to remain lucid to the events that were unfolding before him. Perhaps it was the unstable nature of the Ruusan crystal, perhaps it was the age old power that flowed through the planet itself, or perhaps it was a combination of the aforementioned coupled with Tryjo’s inexperienced. Whatever it was, it soon overtook Tryjo and left him lying unconscious on the hard, stone floor of the cavern.

Tryjo awoke to find himself lying on a cool, moist, earthen mound, well away from the confines of the cavern. Somehow he had escaped the dank place and arrived on the surface of the planet, but he had no recollection of how this occurred. As more of his physical senses began to return, he realized that the Ruusan crystal was still securely tucked in his hand. Wobbly on his legs, Tryjo slowly stood to observe his immediate surroundings to try and determine what exactly happened. He did not note anything of interest until – drag marks along the ground with what appeared to be tendrils of some sort. Giving a slight grin, Tryjo recalled his encounter with the Bouncer, and wondered if it had something to do with the entire chain of events that occurred. Whatever the circumstances, Tryjo had his Ruusan crystal, and his task here was done.

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to level Tryjo from Force user level 4 to Force user level 5. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: Iridonia – a planet that has undergone undo hardships at the hands of many a foe; from the evil Sith to the might of the Mandalorians, but to Tryjo, Iridonia was home. It had been some years since Tryjo had stood upon the planet’s surface, and seeing his home again brought a sense of peace to his very soul. However, this peace would be short lived as his intentions on coming home again was due in part to a communiqué he had received from an old acquaintance. Much like a sculptor carves grooves into his artwork, a troubled look began to etch itself across Tryjo’s face as his eyes scanned the very land that his ancestors inhabited. As the sand and wind whipped around his body, Tryjo’s mind began to wander back to the distressing message he had received; ’Trouble on the ancestral lands … Cital is missing … need help, Ra’jac.’

Delving into his own sorted past was something that Tryjo was not accustomed to doing, but after receiving Ra’jac’s message, he could not bear the burden of not aiding his long time friend. Now Tryjo had left Iridonia in his early adolescent youth to travel the galaxy, but he had always tried to keep in contact with his friends and relatives. Of course, as time passed away, the communications between Tryjo and Iridonia became fewer and fewer; that is until Ra’jac’s call for aid. Ra’jac was about the same age as Tryjo, and he considered Ra’jac to be one of his closest friends prior to leaving Iridonia. Being an adept student of Iridonian history and philosophy, Ra’jac would often spend many hours lecturing his friends in the way of the Zabrak; sometimes to their liking, and sometime not. However, Tryjo was always intrigued by Ra’jac’s knowledge and beliefs and he would often encourage Ra’jac when it involved these lectures. Cital, on the other hand, was a good bit younger than his comrades Tryjo and Ra’jac, but he was a dear friend nonetheless. Cital was brash and fearless, often ending up in the local medical facility due to his impetuous behavior, but Tryjo and Ra’jac envied this care free nature and loved the boy like a brother.

Not having discovered his natural talents in commanding the ever living Force until well after he had left Iridonia, Tryjo had never felt the soothing touch of the energy field that flowed over the Iridonian landscape, or not that he knew of anyway. Calling out to the mystical energy of the Force, Tryjo began to beckon unto the flowing bands of energy; summoning its soothing presence to dwell within his very being. There – it was not at all that difficult to find the elusive metaphysical energy, for its infinite power knows no boundaries and supersedes even the vast distance from either edge of the universe. As Tryjo basked in the ambience of the combined presence of the Force and his being homebound, he almost momentarily dispelled the negative aspects of his journey, until; A ripple within the very fabric of the Force almost sent Tryjo to his knees. On every other occurrence with the Force, Tryjo had enjoyed its feel upon his body; how it caressed his very soul and shed light unto his mind’s eye, but this was something very different. The ripple that quickly spread across the framework of the Force had left Tryjo’s mind clouded and weakened; almost as if a shroud had been placed upon the energy within the area. Slamming his eyes shut, Tryjo attempted to refocus his concentration and center his mind upon the natural calming aspects of the Force, but the reverberations from the unknown disturbance within the Force held Tryjo’s mind at bay. Thus, he was forced to abandon his efforts for the moment, erecting a barrier of mental energy attempting to silence the echo within the recess of the Force.

”Tryjo!”

Spinning around on his heels, Tryjo came face to face with the author of the distressed message, Ra’jac. His eyes almost welled up upon seeing his Iridonian brother, as it had been some years since the two had laid eyes upon each other, but holding back the glee, Tryjo reciprocated Ra’jac’s joyful greeting.

”Ra’jac! My dear friend, it has been far too long. Tell me, why the disturbing message? What has happened to Cital?”

A grim look overtook the joy upon Ra’jac’s face when Tryjo uttered Cital’s name, and Tryjo’s own features soon followed suit. Turing his face toward the Iridonian sun, Ra’jac squinted his eyes a bit as tried to prepare his words.

”Cital began to change some years after you departed, almost becoming a totally different person. Then, upon the mysterious deaths of his remaining family members, he began to exhibit curious behavior patterns … violent outbursts, making strange drawings, disappearing for days on end. It was not uncommon for Cital to be gone for weeks on end before reappearing, but he has been gone for six months now and I fear for his life. I was hesitant about contacting you, but you are the only other that knows Cital as I.”

Tryjo reached out with his right hand and placed it upon the shoulder of Ra’jac in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves. Dropping his head and bringing both hands to his face, Ra’jac fervently fought against the emotions that were struggling to burst forth.

”Do not fret, Ra’jac. I will find Cital and bring him home.”

The two men stood together as the Iridonian sun slowly escaped from view beyond the horizon. As such, Tryjo saw that Ra’jac safely made his way to his housing unit before retiring to his own family’s estate. The Sebo estate had long since been abandoned, but due to a trust that had been established many a year ago, the grounds were kept by a meager staff of well compensated individuals. As Tryjo made his way through the wrought iron front gate of the compound, memories came flooding into Tryjo’s consciousness from his youth, but now was not the time to take a stroll down memory lane as there were more devious forces at work that needed to be uncovered. So with a steadfast purpose, Tryjo dismissed his personal feelings and set his mind on finding his friend and uncovering this strange ripple in the Force.

Entering the main hall of the center wing to the main house, Tryjo was not surprised to find the entire dwelling unfurnished due to the many years of the estate being unoccupied. Thus, Tryjo would find himself sleeping upon a meditation pad that he had brought with him on his journey. It was not the most comfortable of sleeping arrangements, but Tryjo would find that he would not rest well due to the strange occurrence earlier in the day. The shrouded sensations Tryjo encountered via the Force still lingered within the deep recesses of his mind, and his mental stamina was quite taxed from keeping a psychic barrier in place to protect himself from further influence. Perhaps this was the reason Tryjo did not sense the dark presence that was present only mere meters away from him, creeping through the darkness with hatred dripping from their very soul. As the foe was slinking closer toward Tryjo, a silvery blade began to reflect the ambient light that lingered within the room – An assassin!

Call it luck, or perhaps it was the will of the remnants of the Force that still held true amongst the shroud, that Tryjo caught a glimpse of the glimmer reflecting from the assassins blade. Jumping to his feet with a speed that could only be acclaimed to someone calling upon the power of the Force, Tryjo thrust his hands outward to gather enough energy to create an orb of light so he could face his attacker. Of course, as Tryjo began to move, the assassin lunged toward him swinging his blade wildly, as if he were manic or possessed by some demon. Tryjo franticly attempted to dodge the vicious swings of the lethal blade as he beckoned unto the Force to brighten his light orb. It was only mere seconds until the orb of light had gathered enough energy to illuminate the entire room, but to Tryjo who was in a fight for his very life, it seemed like an eternity. A fellow Zabrak! Tryjo was astonished to see a fellow Iridonian attempting to do him bodily harm, but there was something amiss about this Zabrak. Being wild-eyed, visibly enraged, and seemingly deranged, Tryjo attempted to speak reason to the madman. ”Who are you? Why are you doing this? Who sent you?”

Tryjo’s words were met with a look of contempt by the attacker, and only lead to a further onslaught from the increasingly aggressive Zabrak. Tryjo knew that reason and logic would not end this confrontation, and if he wished to survive the encounter, he would have to move swiftly.

Tryjo eyed his lightsaber perched amongst his belongings on the far side of the room, but his attacker stood between him and his weapon. Moving quickly, Tryjo reached out with a tendril of Force energy to grasp his only means of physical defense, his weapon. Feeling the ebb and flow of the energy in the room, Tryjo intensified his concentration as much as possible while trying to avoid being injured by the knife wielding Zabrak. Beckoning the Force to deliver his weapon to his open hand, Tryjo was surprised by the reluctantly of the Force to obey his commands. Fear began to encroach upon Tryjo as he began to realize that the Force was not complying as he intended, but remained shrouded and clouded by this unknown power. This fear quickly intensified when his foe took a vicious swing and slashed Tryjo across the chest, leaving Tryjo bleeding from the superficial wound. Knowing that the next wound could prove to be a lethal one, Tryjo’s eyes darted back and forth trying to formulate a strategy, but his fear was interfering with his reasoning. It was at the apex of Tryjo’s emotional state that he began to see through the shroud covering the Force. Not that the shroud had dissipated, but Tryjo began to sense a connection that was previously hidden to him. Seizing upon this newfound connection, Tryjo plunged his hand forward, sending a wave of energy toward his weapon. This energy quickly recoiled and brought the lightsaber into Tryjo’s awaiting grasp with a force that would undoubtedly leave a welt.

Weapon in hand, Tryjo activated his lightsaber and took up an aggressive back stance in which he could easily defend against the assassins attacks, but could easily transition into his more aggressive Makashi form. Tryjo had his back foot pointed out almost ninety-degrees from his body, holding over eighty-percent of his body weight; His front foot was extended forward, almost straight. Holding his lightsaber on his dominant side, right beside his head, Tryjo held the blade directly forward toward his opponent. Oddly enough, Tryjo had overwhelming inclinations to charge the would be assassin and take his life, but internal conflict raged as Tryjo tried to reaffirm his self-taught discipline of balance. As Tryjo’s lightsaber crackled and burnt the very air in the room, he successfully held the Zabrak at bay with little effort; using his Soresu technique. However, it seemed as if the assassin was goading Tryjo into attacking, almost enjoying his provocations in some maniacal way. And, as the moments lingered, the Force itself began to almost justify an attack by Tryjo; seducing him into an aggressive situation. These were foreign feelings, feelings that Tryjo had never felt resonating from the Force, and he quickly found the alluring aspect of this emotion almost to be too tantalizing.

Griping his lightsaber hilt with a might that forced the blood from his knuckles, Tryjo’s staunch training began to override the alien influences; not that they had vanished, but were being suppressed by Tryjo’s will. It was difficult to refrain from allowing the luscious feelings from seeping into the crevices of his mind, but Tryjo attempted to seal his fate by not acting upon these rash emotions. For he was being tempted by greatly unbalanced forces; forces that swayed too far into the darkness and away from the light. And as such, Tryjo had to keep the faith that he would overcome this challenge, not allowing himself to slip away from his true nature; a balanced nature.

Perhaps this is why the next move made by the assassin was one that shocked Tryjo to a point that left him utterly speechless. Seeing that Tryjo would not be goaded into attacking, the Zabrak assassin turned his blade on himself; driving his blade deep within his own chest. Upon seeing the foolish act of self-annihilation, Tryjo deactivated his lightsaber and rushed for his would be killer in an attempt to offer him aid, or at least get some answers. Catching hold of his fellow Zabrak, he cautiously lowered him to the floor while attempting to wrap a few bits of clothing around the protruding handle of the knife. Of course, it was far too late to save the life of the Zabrak, but perhaps Tryjo could save his soul. ”Please, tell me why did you do this?” The Zabrak locked his eyes upon Tryjo before reaching out with his last bit of strength to grab him by the arm. Pulling Tryjo close, the Zabrak assassin whispered one word, ”Pravus.” And with the whisper of that single word, the Zabrak’s life energy slipped away.

Falling back on his haunches, Tryjo winced a bit at the stinging sensation that came from the wound across his chest, but there was a much greater wound that Tryjo would have to contend with; a wound upon the ever living Force. He had a suspicion that the events surrounding the disappearance of his friend Cital, the shroud upon the Force, and Zabrak assassin would all correlate to the barely audible word spoken by Tryjo’s attacker. But, as he sat and stared at the dead body, Tryjo knew that the coming days would be a true test of his abilities. Would he be able to overcome this inherently unbalanced entity?

”Pravus…”

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to level Tryjo from Force user level 5 to Force user level 6. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: The rocky landscape that stretched out before Tryjo’s unwavering eyes was not foreign to him. For before Tryjo’s departure off Iridonia, he would spend many days exploring the lands of his forefathers alongside his comrades Ra’jac and Cital. Of course, it was at the behest of these very same comrades that Tryjo now found himself back on Iridonia. Rubbing his chest, Tryjo could still feel a stinging sensation from the blade of his would be assassin, but as he continued to peer out across the territory, the pain subsided as his thoughts began to center on Cital. From what Tryjo could glean from Ra’jac, Cital was last seen walking in the direction that Tryjo was now facing; rocky, desolate, and inhospitable terrain. Tryjo had resigned himself to the fact that immense danger lie ahead, but he would eagerly face said danger to save another; especially his long time friend, Cital. However, it was not the physical dangers that Tryjo was leery about – physical dangers such as the assassins blade – it was the metaphysical dangers that haunted his mind; the dangers of the shroud that was present over the Force.

Tryjo had taken great care in guarding his mind against the allurement of the darker Force energies that lingered intertwined and unbalanced throughout the area. Witnessing first hand the ease at which the dark power could be called upon, Tryjo strived to keep his thoughts and emotions balanced between the two opposing forces. Of course, it was only natural to sway slightly into the nether regions of darkness, as long as an equal amount of energy was directed toward the lighter spectrum to maintain optimum balance and control. Nonetheless, Tryjo limited reaching out to touch the Force since his encounter with the assassin, but fearing that time was of the essence, Tryjo could no longer risk being subtle. Allowing the mental barriers he had created to cascade inwards, Tryjo allowed his mind to reach out and fraternize with the energy currents that were present. As he had felt before, there appeared to be a shroud covering the natural Force currents, damping the more positive energies. Taking great care not to allow himself to become entranced by the seductive nature of the darker energy, Tryjo skirted his senses alongside this resident evil in an attempt to glean any relevant information that it might contain. However, having little experience manipulating dark energy, Tryjo knew not what he was perceiving, and only sensed what could best be described as emotional chaos and turmoil.

A stentorian wail broke Tryjo’s concentration upon the Force, but as suddenly as it had sounded, it silenced. Perplexed by what he had audibly heard, Tryjo tried to expediently determine the sound’s focal point for reference. However, due to the rough topography of the terrain, pinpointing the sound proved to be difficult at best. The dry, sandy soil began to crackle under Tryjo’s feet as he strode off toward the horizon, but the echo of his own footsteps, and that of the passing wind, was the only hint of sound present. As if taunting Tryjo, another shrill shriek reverberated through the air, sending chills throughout Tryjo’s body. As the sound entered Tryjo’s ears, it produced a tingling, if not prickly sensation over the entirety of his body. Tryjo could only speculate as to the origin of the horrid wails, but it was evident that whatever was producing the atrocious sound was in dire need. Several more shrieks would Tryjo hear as he made his way over the perilous landscape made up of steep, rocky hills and valleys. As Tryjo was descending one of the lesser valleys, he spied something curious at the distant bottom of the valley floor. Tryjo could see a lone figure, crouched down toward the ground, wearing ragged looking clothing. It was difficult to determine from a distance, but it appeared that the figure was smashing, or gouging the ground with something – perhaps a rock. Of course, Tryjo’s thoughts immediately centered upon the figure being Cital, and with great haste, Tryjo quickened his pace toward the strange form. Only now mere meters away from the figure, Tryjo found it odd that there was no reaction to his hurried approach upon the man.

”Cital!”

Still approaching the man from the rear, Tryjo could not be certain if he was indeed Cital. But, he continued to call out to the man using Cital’s name in hopes to draw some type of reaction. To his continued surprise, there was still no reaction to his approach or verbal engrossment, but only continued gouging at the ground by the enigmatic figure. Tryjo was hesitant to further his approach, but there was something amiss and Tryjo felt he need intervene. Stepping lightly, Tryjo drew near enough to the man to reach out and touch him on the shoulder; which he did so. With a violent outburst, the figure spun around, still crouched, to face Tryjo.

”Cital, it is you!”

Tryjo was taken aback by the appearance of his long time friend who was wild-eyed and looked upon Tryjo with contempt. Tryjo continued to call Cital’s name, but the man continued to thrash and flail about the ground as if he were possessed.

”Cital, it is me, Tryjo! Cital!”

Tryjo’s words might as well have fallen upon deaf ears, as Cital did not offer any response as to understanding what Tryjo was saying. Perhaps it was the fact that Tryjo was distracted by what he was seeing, or that he did not perceive Cital as a threat, but what transpired next caught him completely off guard. Summoning a great deal of strength in his legs, Cital sprung forth from his crouching position and took hold of Tryjo. Before he could readily react, Cital had Tryjo completely restrained and was holding him in place. Not wishing to hurt his obviously afflicted friend, Tryjo did not attempt any offensive maneuvers of his own, but simply continued to try and reason with his captor; his friend, Cital. With an almost unnatural strength, Cital held Tryjo tight, and the more that Tryjo tried to reason with Cital, the tighter Cital’s grip became. It was at this point that Tryjo’s eyes locked with Cital’s own deluded eyes, and upon doing so, a strange sensation began to overtake Tryjo. Feeling as if his physical body was transcending into some type of altered state of reality, Tryjo began a futile attempt at freeing himself from Cital’s grasp. As the seconds passed away, Tryjo’s muscles became flaccid and weak, and along with this physical impairment, so did Tryjo’s very mental defenses allow his mind to plunge into a state of disarray.

Tryjo found himself standing in a room – A dark room that was void of all light. There was a trickling sound in the distance, but Tryjo could not readily determine what it was he was hearing, or the direction to which it was coming from. The ambient air in the room was stale and a foul stench hung thereupon like that of decaying material. Standing completely still, fear began to creep upon Tryjo; the fear of the unknown, the fear of how he arrived here, the fear of was it real, the fear of was this only in his mind. Bringing his right hand to a point in front of his body, Tryjo began to draw upon the Force currents present within the room. Perhaps it was Tryjo’s own apprehensive nature of awaking in the dastardly room, but the energy that Tryjo frequently controlled was sluggish at abiding to his commands. Dismissing this as a byproduct of his current afflicted state, Tryjo continued to meld the apathetic field of energy into a bubble for his own ends. Shaping and contorting the ball of Force energy, Tryjo began to manipulate the air within the bubble in an attempt to create an orb of pure light. Seizing upon tendrils of the Force, Tryjo began to stir the molecular soup of atoms within the Force bubble to a point at which they would release photons; thus producing a gleaming light orb to illuminate the darkened room. Of course, as with creating the bubble itself, Tryjo had difficulty in creating enough resonance within the bubble to force the particles or atoms to release the light he so desperately sought. Minutes slipped away, and Tryjo continued to beckon upon the Force to aid him in his time of need, but it seemed as if it was only mocking him; purposefully denying him light amongst the darkness. Fear – Once again the agent of darkness, the agent of evil began to supersede all of Tryjo’s steadfast and balanced emotions. This was foreign to him, and with each breath, Tryjo began to struggle with keeping his poise within the Force. At the pinnacle of his heightened state of fear and disillusion, a slight glow began to appear in the center of Tryjo’s Force bubble. Light! It was the tiniest glimmer of hope that began to protrude through the menacing darkness, but it was just that, a slight glimmer. Tryjo fervently attempted to strengthen his hold over the orb of light, but to no avail; the light would not grow. Taking a step forward, Tryjo’s foot brushed up against something lying across the floor. Due to the darkness, Tryjo could not readily see the obstacles in his path, and the tiny orb of light was not bright enough to fully illuminate the room. Reaching out through the Force, Tryjo beckoned the orb of light to come closer to his relative position. As the weakened light drew near, Tryjo began to make out a figure stretched out across the floor to his front. Bending down and widening his eyes in an attempt to gather as much light as possible, Tryjo gasped and stumbled back in horror. It was Ra’jac – He was obviously dead; his throat cut from ear to ear.

Opening his eyes, Tryjo observed the brilliant blue Iridonian sky hovering above. He was no longer a prisoner of the darkened room which held his dead comrade, Ra’jac, but instead found himself atop one of the planet’s many jagged mountains. The fear that was laden upon Tryjo’s psyche was now replaced with contempt – contempt from seeing his friend mutilated, from himself being manipulated in such nefarious ways. ”What is this!” Tryjo’s words echoed throughout the immediate area, but the only answer he received was a chorus of howling winds that seemed to taunt Tryjo as they whirled around his body. Confused and angry by what was happening, Tryjo was not inclined to be a pawn any further and began a fledging attempt to find a way off the mountain top. Of course, there was no way to safely descend the perilous mountain, and Tryjo was once again trapped by forces yet to reveal themselves to him. Visually perturbed by this continued torture of sorts, Tryjo slowly paced in a circle, contemplating on the events that had transpired thus far. A tingling sensation suddenly began to nag at Tryjo’s being; to the point it became a nuisance to his thoughts. Shrugging the phenomenon off as another effect from his current torment, Tryjo thoughts soon became infused with extrasensory perception; a gift perhaps from the Force. A visual image, as presented through the Force, became imprinted upon Tryjo’s mind; a boulder. Caught in a quandary, Tryjo attempted to make sense of the strange imagery that was now plaguing his thoughts, but the answers would soon come to fruition. Hearing a deep rumbling, Tryjo’s eyes caught a glimpse of falling debris; debris from a ledge that lay above his current position atop the mountain. Thank the Force that Tryjo looked skyward, because as he did so, an astromech sized boulder was hurdling toward his very position. Leaping to safety, the rock smashed into the ground and broke into several pieces, but also leaving a rather obvious gouge in the ground. Struggling to get back to his feet, Tryjo thrust his hands outward toward the broken pieces of rock. Catching hold of the flowing currents of Force energy, Tryjo whirled them around one of the broken rock pieces. It seemed as if the Force flowed easier atop the mountain, or either it was that Tryjo was now able to see more clearly through the shroud that was present. Absorbing the power that the Force seemed to be channeling into Tryjo’s body, he began to relish the feeling it presented. And, as his control over the currents of Force energy grew, so did Tryjo’s anger toward the rock, or more correctly toward the dark force that was holding him captive. Continuing to contort the tendrils of Force energy around him, Tryjo commanded them to attack one of the broken pieces of rock to his front. Capturing a rock piece in a tendril of energy, Tryjo commanded the Force to levitate the rock from the ground to a point that it was roughly eye level with him. From there, Tryjo began to send shockwaves of concentrated Force energy toward the rock in an attempt to further destroy it. Glaring upon the inanimate object as if it were responsible for his entrapment, Tryjo reached out through the Force in an attempt to punish the rubble for his current state of being. Of course, the rock itself was not to blame, but Tryjo needed an outlet to release his anger and frustration. The rock itself began to crumble under the sheer pressure that Tryjo was exerting upon it through his control over the Force, but as quickly as Tryjo had succumb to the rash emotional outburst, he stayed his hand. Releasing his control over the tainted Force energy, the insignificant rock fell back to the earth. Tryjo, one who had prided himself upon his balance and self control was falling prey to the very things that he fought against.

As if walking out of a fog, Tryjo suddenly reawaked to find himself standing in the valley where he encountered Cital. Not sure what triggered the previous events, Tryjo was visibly shaken by what had transpired, but there was something still amiss. Looking down toward the ground where he first encountered Cital, Tryjo spied a red substance that appeared to be blood. Of course, Cital was no longer present and Tryjo could not account for what happened during the last few moments.

”Tryjo!”

Spinning around, Tryjo observed Ra’jac running down the side of the valley in his direction.

”Ra’jac! I found Cital, but I can’t remember what happened. And, now he is gone.”

”What is that in your hand, Tryjo?”

Looking down at his hand, Tryjo’s eyes fell upon the very rock that Cital had been gouging into the ground with. It was covered in the same red blood that littered the ground. Throwing the rock from his hand as if it were on fire, Tryjo lost his breath for a moment, but what he saw next would further haunt him. For on the ground, written in the apparent blood of Cital, was a single word.

”Pravus.”

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to level Tryjo from Force user level 6 to Force user level 7. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: Almost a galactic week had passed since Tryjo had encountered Cital on the valley floor, but ever nuance of the incident remained fresh in his battered mind. Could I have really injured my friend? The question lingered at the forefront of Tryjo’s thoughts since he left the valley, and even Ra’jac seemed to be looking questionably upon Tryjo after leaving the sorted scene. Even with the mystery surrounding Cital only becoming more exorbitant, Tryjo was also plagued by the events of his blackout – purpose of which was unknown, but he speculated that it had to be related to the evil that was present; Pravus.

”You know I really hate to say this Tryjo, but you may not have had any other choice.” Ra’jac sat across from Tryjo at a local cantina, sharing a well deserved ale. Tryjo knew that Ra’jac was only attempting to ease his mind, but a great dread swelled in his being over the possibility of what might have transpired. ”I mean, Cital is not the man that we once knew. You were doing what had to be done.” Ra’jac reached out his hand and placed it atop Tryjo’s hand, attempting to further console his friend.

Drawing his eyes upward, Tryjo looked passed Ra’jac toward a holonet screen that was displaying in the background. Words scrolled across the bottom of the screen indicating that the current news story was one of a man being sought in connection with a double murder. Tryjo was not surprised by what he was reading; that is he was not surprised until the suspect’s picture appeared on the screen. Tryjo’s bottom jaw dropped and the blood drained from his face as he gazed passed Ra’jac. Seeing that Tryjo was absorbed in something behind him, Ra’jac turned to see what had caught Tryjo’s undivided attention. ”Cital!” Ra’jac blurted out the name without thinking; so much so that he caught the attention of several bystanders. Not wishing to draw further attention to himself or Tryjo, Ra’jac fervently attempted to calm his already frayed nerves.

”Could it be?” Tryjo could not believe what he was beholding; Cital sought for murder! He thought that there must be some mistake, but the scrolling words spoke of irrefutable evidence linking Cital to the horrible crime. Bringing both hands to his face, Tryjo slowly rubbed his temples in an attempt to relieve the muscles around his eyes that had become tense in lieu of what he had seen. It was bitter sweet to see the news; Tryjo felt relieved that he had not harmed his friend, but now there was the possibility that he had committed heinous acts of violence. Tryjo could barely contain his emotions, even his staunch training in stoicism was beginning to crack under the pressure. Stray thoughts began to intercede into his consciousness – Confusion, Anger, Fear, and Hate. Why was this happening? Even though the events were involving others, Tryjo couldn’t help but feel that he was being intentionally targeted. Tryjo staggered to his feet and motioned for Ra’jac to stay seated. ”I…I have to go.”

*****

The Force swirled around Tryjo as he sat quietly meditating in one of the more desolate chambers of his family’s estate. So many mysteries had presented themselves to Tryjo, but the Force had yet to provide any definite answers to any of them. The shroud of evil still hung thickly over the Force, and Tryjo, however unintentional it had become, had grown accustomed to the draw of its power. I can see why so many fall. Tryjo thrust his senses outward, allowing himself to intermix with the various currents of Force energy; light and dark. It was odd how the two types of energy flowed against one another, much like trying to mix oil and water together – they were distinctly separate. Tryjo had thought that if he could trace the dark energy currents back to their source, he could find the true cause of the turmoil; Pravus. The dark energy seemed to stretch outward in all directions, no direction seeming to be of higher concentration than the other. Pushing his ability to sense the dark energy to the limit, Tryjo could not determine anything definite by using his sense of the Force alone.

The currents of the dark Force energy had to be emanating from a focal point, and Tryjo conjectured that if he were to manipulate the currents of energy, he could glean a general direction of higher intensity. Tryjo extended his arms out toward his sides and formed his hands into a clenched fists. Acting as a vacuum, Tryjo began to gently tug on the dark energy, focusing on pulling as much of it around him as possible. At first, it was simple to control the seductive currents, but as the influx of energy lead to an ever expanding amount of dark Force energy around him, Tryjo found that it began to greatly tax his mental focus; For his mind was not accustomed to such chaos – such power – that existed within the darker energy. The energy flowed around his body and caressed it like the softest cloth that he had ever touched; it tempted his mind with delusions of grandeur and power. Tryjo knew that he would soon have to abandon his efforts, as he was not proficient enough in the Force to be able to maintain proper control over the energy field that grew around his body. At the last moment, just prior to Tryjo releasing his grip on the darkness, he sensed a stray tendril of energy piercing the energy field that he held in place. This tendril was of the same dark energy, but seemed to be immune to Tryjo’s manipulation upon its flow. Being somewhat flabbergasted by this incoming tendril of energy, Tryjo quickly released his control over the dark Force energy that was under his command. As the pent up energy washed away from Tryjo, the ominous tendril continued toward him. Try as he might, Tryjo could not escape it, nor could he manipulate it – impact.

The tendril of dark energy came into contact with Tryjo’s body, freezing him in place. Not by any nefarious means have you, but by the utter surprise of what was communicated into the depths of Tryjo’s conscious mind. Reacting with haste, Tryjo erected mental barriers in a futile attempt to keep the probing of his mind to a minimum. But, it seemed that the probing of his thoughts was not the intention behind this intrusion, but more of a taunting communiqué of sorts. The voice that Tryjo heard was iniquitous and vile sounding in nature, and a feeling of emotional chaos could all but be inferred in the tones. Tryjo knew that only a powerful Adept could be manipulating the Force in this way, and this was actually very disconcerting. This only verified Tryjo’s belief that a dark Force user was indeed involved in the goings on, but this also now deeply complicated the matter – if not made it intensely more dangerous. ”Seek me.” These were the only two words muttered, but they were repeated several times over, with each repetition being more sinister. Tryjo clenched his jaw and neck muscles as if trying to force the probing tendril from his mind, but it was of little use as it remained steadfast. Gathering a large amount of air within his lungs, Tryjo tightened his diaphragm and unleashed a fury of shouted words. ”Who are you! Tell me where you are so that I may lay my vengeance upon thee!” As the last few syllables escaped Tryjo’s mouth, he distinctly heard a subtle laugh. But, he also sensed that the tendril of energy had removed itself from his being – however, leaving a mental image of a tomb burned into his mind.

The Iridonian sun rose over the horizon, much like a bright yellow disc, and began to slowly illuminate the landscape before Tryjo and Ra’jac. Both men were aboard a small repulsorlift skiff that was skimming across the surface of the planet heading back to the valley where Tryjo had last encountered Cital. Being their only duracrete lead, Tryjo had requested that Ra’jac join him on the journey back to the valley in an attempt to try and find any clue that they might have overlooked previously. Ra’jac had initially hesitated on collaborating with Tryjo in going back to the valley, but after a bit of subversive persuasion, Tryjo had convinced him to join him on the sojourn. The rocky terrain was all but a blur as the skiff sped along, and Tryjo took this opportunity to try and refrain from thinking about the recent goings on – only to find himself quickly brought back to reality as the speed of the skiff made the overall trip a short one. The valley was no different than it was when the duo had found themselves here previously, and the blood of Cital still littered the ground where some dastardly fate had befallen him. Kicking up some loose gravel and dirt with his field boots, Tryjo covered the burnt reddish stains to conceal their presence from his view. He only wished he could do the same with the images in his mind.

”I still don’t know why we are here, Tryjo. Tryjo?” Ra’jac’s words fell on deaf ears, as Tryjo seemed to be peering off in the distance toward a set of twin mountain peaks. Something had caught Tryjo’s attention, and as Ra’jac strained his eyes looking in the same general direction, he could not denote anything of interest. ”What are you lo-“ Tryjo cut Ra’jac off in mid-sentence by raising his right hand and extending his forefinger – a nonverbal message that indicated for Ra’jac to be silent. Tryjo had not seen anything with his physical eyes, much the reason why Ra’jac could not see anything as he looked toward the twin peaks. However, the Force had revealed something to Tryjo as he studied the far off summits, and this is what had his undivided attention at the moment. Closing his eyes, Tryjo began to hearken unto the Force, paying careful attention to what it was trying to reveal to him about the far off place. As he stretched out his senses and allowed them to traverse the distance from his current location to that of the alps, he began to quietly study the impressions that were being made upon his mind. It proved to be more difficult than he had envisioned – attempting to sense something at a great distance – perhaps it was his limited ability within the Force, or perhaps it was further manipulation against him by the dark forces at work. Nonetheless, Tryjo carried on, weaving his senses across the expanse in an effort to determine what the Force wished to reveal to him. And, without warning, it suddenly became spontaneously apparent – a sentient being – a Zabrak no less. Could it be? Wonder filled Tryjo’s mind as he pondered if it could truly be Cital he was sensing off in the distance. Through sheer mental discipline, Tryjo commanded an accomplished control over the Force and endeavored to impose on the outlying Zabrak by touching his mind in an attempt to glean his identity. Allowing himself to be immersed within the vastness of the Force, drawing upon the energies of light and dark, Tryjo conveyed his telepathic query. Tryjo’s eyes shot open wide and he spun on his heels to quickly locate Ra’jac. ”He is nearby – Cital. We must make haste.” All but shoving Ra’jac along, Tryjo quickly herded himself and Ra’jac back into the skiff and made way toward the distant mountain peak to locate Cital.

The engines on the skiff were operating far beyond their recommended level, but Tryjo continued to push them further into the red zone. Allowing the Force to guide his hands upon the steering yoke, Tryjo could have just as well kept his eyes closed, and at times Ra’jac could have sworn that Tryjo did indeed have them closed. However the skiff made the journey across the valley without any major mechanical failure – or being involved in a crash – and for this Ra’jac was thankful. Jumping off of the skiff as if it were a blazing inferno, Tryjo’s eyes befell an opening into the side of the mountain wall. The crevice was not covered and no attempts had been made to conceal its identity, but Tryjo could now distinctly sense an evil presence that would most likely keep even the most naive creature or being at bay; those that were not overly sensitive to the spiritual realm. However strong the darkness was surrounding this place, however unbalanced the Force energies were, Tryjo would not be deterred – he stepped into the crevice opening. Feeling a hand upon his shoulder, Ra’jac attempted to stop Tryjo. ”Tryjo, do you remember what happened last time? Don’t be foolhardy about this. Shouldn’t we just call the authorities and let them handle this?” Tryjo turned his body so as to obstruct the entire entrance to the cavern, while at the same time plucking Ra’jac’s hand from his shoulder. ”We haven’t the time, Ra’jac. And, there are forces at work here that even the Iridonian officials wouldn’t understand. I… we must act now if we are to save Cital from a fate far worse than imprisonment in a mere correctional facility.” Tryjo turned his body back toward the darkness within the cavern and proceeded inward to face the evil within.

OOC: The purpose of this section of this thread is to level Tryjo from Force user level 7 to Force user level 8. It should be noted that these are past events.

Tryjo and Ra’jac had only traveled a few meters into the musty cavern when the ambient light began to diminish to a point where they would need some external source to guide their steps. Looking back over his shoulder, Tryjo could see the silhouette of his friend following closely behind. Slowly reaching out with his hand, Tryjo touched Ra’jac on the chest to communicate a nonverbal command to stop. For half a heartbeat, Tryjo questioned if Ra’jac didn’t have the right idea; alerting the Iridonian officials. But, the Shadow knew that he was here by the will of the Force and this assurance quickly dissipated any reservations that had crept into his mind. Of course, Tryjo couldn’t help but wonder if these subtle doubts were nothing more than seeds of confusion being planted in his subconscious by the dark forces within the depths of the cavern.

Call it a whim, or call it a warning communicated via the Force, but Tryjo began to realize that he would need to properly balance himself against the dark energies that abounded within the region. Tryjo began to quiet his mind to the turmoil that had been plaguing him, using what positive energy he could muster from the Force to reinforce his bearing and resolve. Even this initial step in quelling his own thoughts seemed to be a challenge, and Tryjo now knew that he was in fact being targeted through the Force. With the resolve of a starving Gurrcat on the trail of its prey, Tryjo continued to erect mental barriers that would keep his emotions and physical senses from succumbing to negative influence. Reaching out with a calmer and more dedicated mind’s eye, Tryjo allowed himself to touch the Force energy that was cascading through the cavern and beyond. This dark energy could be ascribed to the River of Fire on Kintan, its horrid currents of molten rock being the antithesis of a conventional river. But, somewhere amongst the churning, chaotic deluge of malevolent energy, Tryjo descried a bleary glimmer of propitious energy. Training all his focus on this diminutive energy band, Tryjo began to convoke it to him. Slowly and purposefully, Tryjo twisted the positive energy through the tangled web of negativity. It took time and patience – perhaps too much time – but Tryjo knew that failure to properly protect himself would end up doing more harm than good to his friends. Eventually, Tryjo would find that he had successfully infused the immediate area and himself with a working volume of positive energy. Acting only on the gentle whispers of the Force, Tryjo ceased his beckoning in order to proceed further into the cavern.

Slipping his hand into his trouser pocket, Tryjo pulled out a glowstick and ignited the phosphorescent inside the device. With a steady beam of golden light shining ahead of him, Tryjo swept his eyes from side to side as he began to walk forward. There was nothing very remarkable about the passageway that Tryjo could take note of by his physical senses alone. For all intents and purposes, this could have been any other cavern on the planet – ”What is that? Ra’jac, do see this? Ra’jac?” Tryjo turned his glowstick from the cavern wall and began to scan the path behind him; Ra’jac had vanished. Feeling his pulse start to race, Tryjo hesitated in calling out to his friend in lieu of not knowing who or what else may be lurking in the shadows. However, Tryjo was perplexed that he had not sensed Ra’jac’s departure, or for that fact, any lurking danger. Caught in the dilemma of whether to continue forward in search of Cital or to backtrack in search of Ra’jac, Tryjo stood motionless lost in a fury of cognitive extrapolations of possible outcomes either way. What seemed like an eternity, only took a few breathes, as Tryjo knew that he had to keep trekking ahead into the darkness. However, before pushing forward, Tryjo attempted to stretch out his senses and pick up Ra’jac’s life force. Narrowing his eyes, Tryjo focused on Ra’jac, and began to hearken to the Force, hoping that it would reveal vital information on his friend’s whereabouts or at least a notion that he was still alive. Probing further away from his center, Tryjo beckoned unto the positive energy that he was commanding to supersede the darker forces at work and locate Ra’jac. It was a futile attempt, and Tryjo quietly withdrew the Force tendrils that he sent forth in search of his friend.

As Tryjo turned to proceed into the depths of the cavern, he spied the unusual markings that he intended to show Ra’jac, but had not had the opportunity due to Ra’jac’s untimely disappearance. Ra’jac, being an astute student of Iridonian history and lore, would have been a great asset in helping Tryjo attempt to discern what the enigmatic symbols meant. Tryjo cocked his head as he gazed at the markings scrawled into the rock on the side of the cavern wall, the light from his glowstick highlighting the various indentions created by the drawings’ creators. Reaching out with his free hand, Tryjo extended his forefinger to trace along the edges of one of the symbols, but the closer his finger came to touching the curious marking, the greater the tingling became at the back of Tryjo’s neck. Ignoring the prickly sensations might have been foolhardy, but what transpired next caught Tryjo’s immediate attention. ”Ahhh!” Tryjo jerked his had away from the wall quicker than a cheating sabacc player trying to palm a card, his hand sizzling with pain – or the markings on his palm sizzling that is. Once, while on a mission for Quinton in search of some elusive Shadow amulet mold, Tryjo had been branded with a series of strange markings on his palms. Quinton had never revealed what the markings meant, but as Tryjo studied his throbbing hand, he got the impression that he had lingered too long.

Placing one cautious foot in front of the other, Tryjo continued to peregrinate through the cavern, making his way around the occasional natural obstruction. Tryjo was somewhat surprised that he had not encountered any tangible resistance to his efforts thus far, but he questioned if this lack of physical resistance wasn’t a sign of more sinister things to come. Darkness. Perhaps Tryjo had spoken too soon, as his glowstick abruptly became inactive. Shaking the device fervently, Tryjo tried to reactivate the light source, but it was to no avail, he was surrounded by darkness. Tucking the useless glowstick back into his trouser pocket, Tryjo stood there motionless, silently debating his next course of action. Following his first instinct, Tryjo unleashed his command over the Force to create an orb of energy in close proximity to the positive energy field that he had created around his body. Focusing on the tiny light creating particles inside the orb of energy, Tryjo beckoned them to begin producing a magnificent shower of white light. Displaying even greater skill over his ability to create an orb of light, Tryjo began to direct the light creating particles themselves to illuminate the path before him. However, Tryjo began to notice that the particles of light began to become erratic the further they traveled away from his orb, effectively making his orb of light useless. With a wave of his hand, Tryjo released the orb and commanded the released energy to reintegrate itself into his protective field. Not to be dissuaded, Tryjo simply closed his eyes and began to concentrate on his surroundings and the way the negative energies were flowing and impacting with his bubble of positive energy. Studying the subtle ways in which the currents interacted and flowed against each other, Tryjo could outline a rudimentary layout of the path before him. Keeping his eyes closed and trusting his influence over the Force, Tryjo strode off into the darkness.

You must kill Cital! Tryjo’s eyes shot open as the words resonated within his conscious mind, forcing a shiver up his spine. Despite all the mental barriers he had placed between himself and the darker forces at work within the cave, the words were implanted into his mind. To Tryjo, this could only indicate that he was closing on the source of the evil that had been tempting him since he first stepped foot on Iridonia. It took a few moments for Tryjo’s physical senses to pick up the faint hint of light that could be seen in the distance, but as he strained his eyes, Tryjo could distinctly make out the flickers of what undoubtedly were torches. Taking heed to keep his pace slow and steady, Tryjo began to shorten the distance between him and the lighted area ahead. He was able to close the distance relatively quickly and quietly, but Tryjo was sure that his presence was already known. Coming to the threshold between the narrow cavern path and the large lighted room, Tryjo paused and took a long breath before turning the corner into the larger space. At first glance, Tryjo could see that the room was rather large and cylindrical in shape, with burning torches lining the walls. The torches immediately caught Tryjo’s attention as the flames seemed to be quite odd; the flames didn’t appear to be typical fire. Methodically scanning the rest of the room for possible threats, Tryjo noted a peculiar dais at the far end of the space. The bizarre markings that littered the cavern passageway could also be seen scrawled into several pillars that rose from the dais to the ceiling above. As Tryjo moved deeper into the chamber, he was beginning to become anxious of the fact that he had yet to sense any lifeform. There were ample places to conceal oneself in the area, but Tryjo felt certain that he would be able to sense their presence – unless that sense was being dimmed.

The Force suddenly came alive around Tryjo, sending a message of warning to the Zabrak. Seeing but not seeing, Tryjo was imparted with knowledge of a danger that was approaching directly from a blind spot to his left. Charging his muscles with pure Force energy, Tryjo ducked down to one knee and rolled forward onto his opposite shoulder; a a spear shot past overhead. Getting back to his feet, Tryjo’s eyes searched frantically for the bearer of the weapon, but there was not a person in visual sight. Trying to calm himself, Tryjo was quickly taken aback by what he saw next; the spear began to levitate of its own accord. Knowing that the primitive weapon could still inflict considerable damage to his person if not dealt with, Tryjo reached out with the Force in an attempt to seize control of the spear. Sending forth tendrils of Force energy, Tryjo began to try and encapsulate the weapon in a web that he could control. Slowed, but not completely stopped, the spear continued to rise and began to turn its sharpened point toward Tryjo. Deepening his concentration, Tryjo began to focus on the spear itself, looking to destroy the weapon from the inside out. Tryjo began to visualize the weapon shattering under the stress of his grip through the Force, and as the spear drew closer, Tryjo’s grip grew unyielding. However, reacting through the sheer will of the Force, Tryjo snatched his lightsaber from belt and activated it with a snap-hiss. Almost instantaneously, the spear leap from Tryjo’s grip and plunged straight toward its intended target, Tryjo. Allowing his body to be manipulated by the Force, Tryjo’s maneuvered his lightsaber with graceful forward, cross-body stroke that obliterated the spear on impact.

”Ha Ha Ha Ha. Perhaps there is some potential in you after all, Zabrak. A cold chill ran through Tryjo as he heard the voice; it was the same voice he had heard sitting alone while meditating some weeks back. ”Pravus, I presume.” Tryjo slowly turned his body in the direction of the voice, as he began to see the outline of a body emerging from a shadowy section of the room. Bringing his lightsaber up to a high ready position, Tryjo awaited his foe’s next move. However, Pravus’ next move was one that Tryjo was not expecting; not expecting at all. For out of the shadows, walked Cital.

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