Domicile Mk II [open]

[Warlock]

The Sith Mistress Vader had welcomed old Warlock into the Sith Order a short time ago, and had directed the now trainee Sith through the halls of the Palace towards what he assumed were the living cloisters. Doors ran off of the corridors at regular intervals, from behind which voices could sometimes be heard, however muffled. The single sound ringing in the hallway was that of Warlock’s boots clinking as the tail of his cloak was caught taught against the buckles on his hob-nailed boots.

The place was airy, albeit dark – though the old man illuminated the way with the staff he carried. So far there had been no indication of an empty room – he presumed he would need one, to stay the night. This was quite infuriating, to say the least. He did hope he would bump into another Sith soon, to guide him to his destination …

[Maxim Vasilijev]

The kid had been in another fight. You’d think he would have learned by now, but so very clearly he had not. A hothead by nature, a single wrong remark often set him off. He knew he wasn’t supposed to fight with the others here. And when Lady Vader heard about it she was likely to reprimand him for it. But she was away on business for the time being, and so at the veryleast the black eye he sported would maybe be a bit faded by then.

He was mildly surprised to see what seemed like an old man roaming the hall of apprentices. Most of them there were in their teens or twenties. This one clearly was not. And by the man’s seeming age, he assumed the man was more than an apprentice. In fact, he seemed more the master type.

And so Maxim ducked his head head and hurried by. And then he fished in his pocket for the key. Darned place hadnt exactly updated the apprentices halls with keypads yet. And his key was…well..it wasn’t there. He was always losing it, and now wasn’t the time. In frustration, his fist nailed the wooden structure. Forgetting as he cursed, perhaps a bit loudly out of anger and pain as flesh and bone collided with something a bit more solid, that anyone was there, he rather made a bit of a scene. His explosive temper only making him seem immature and foolish.

[Warlock]

The clink-clink stopped and the butt of the epoch staff touched the ground with a light thud. Slowly, the deep-blue cowl of the Warlocks robe turned to allow him to look back over his shoulder at the commotion going on behind him.

“I don’t suppose,” he began, “You know where there is a free room?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim turned to the warlock, a deep set scowl on his tanned face.

He released a deep sigh, one clearly of anger and frustration.

“Theres a million of them.” He replied, “And every single freaking one of them on this freaking hallway needs a godforsaken key!” He added, pounding on his door once again.

The other residents on the hallway knew him well enough by now to know this was only Maxim having a fit, and so few bothered to rise from their beds, or whatever they were doing to peer out.

“You’d probably want one upstairs, anyway,” He added, “This is the apprentice floor.” This was grumbled in a voice that made very clear his distaste for the word and the definition behind it. Something that indicated that he was new and inexperienced.

[Warlock]

“My being apprentice would surely mean that I too would end up on this floor,” Warlock mused, to no one in particular.

From the depths of his robes he produced a small, slim piece of what looked like patterned plastic which had been given to him by Lady Vader.

“Is this what I need to open the doors?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim looked to the Warlock for a moment, a semi surprised expression on his face.

"Hey...yeah. Thats a [I[key[/I]...." He replied, a bit of emphasis on the last word, somewhat surprised the old man didnt seem to have a clue to its use.

"You stick it in the slot...." He added, his words raising almost in question at this curious old geezer (in his eyes, at least).

"No one told you which room it goes to....?" He asked, taking this hint from the Warlock's earlier question on where he could find a room.

[Warlock]

He shook his head slowly.

“No. You couldn’t help, could you?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim’s head had canted in a curious gaze, and slowly, he nodded.

“I could try….” He replied, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he considered this newcomer. And then he shrugged and took the key. None of them were marked with room numbers, but the heads of them matched subtle and almost unnoticeable symbols on the lower right hand corners.

He didn’t point this out to the Warlock just yet, still somewhat unsure of why someone so much older would now be joining as an apprentice. Perhaps maybe doubting that he was.

He skipped over rooms he knew to be occupied. And finally, at the very end of the hall where the surrounding rooms were unoccupied, the door of the corner room, known to be much larger than the others on the hall – perhaps one time used as quarters for a hall monitor, he found the symbol that matched the shape of the head of the key.

He slid it into the slot, and the door handle turned on its own, aided by the Sith magic of the castle and the door creaked open on its hinges.

“Looks like you got lucky….” Maxim commented, a hint of envy in his voice.

“Who are you, anyway?”

[Warlock]

“Just an apprentice,” the old man said, as he stepped within the threshold and looked around at the large, empty room within, void of more than the barest of furnishings.

“… and who are you?” he said, as he whirled back around to look at the boy, with a furrowed brow.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim rolled his eyes at the answer and leaned against the doorway. He hadnt exactly been invited in. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Maxim.” He replied, the tone of his voice almost gruding as he gave out the piece of information that had not been given to him.

“Arent you a little old to be an ‘just an apprentice’?” He inquired, not entirely satisfied with the warlock’s answer.

[Warlock]

Reluctantly, he allowed the Epoch staff to slip from his hands and stand propped against one of the walls. The orbs glow dulled.

“You’re never too old to start learning something new, Maxim.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim considered this remark and shrugged.

“I suppose…” He replied, his attitude leaning more toward learning all that there was to learn as fast as possible. Anything to not be considered an apprentice.

“So whats so new that you’re looking to learn?” He asked, eyeing the epoch staff.

“And whats that?” He asked, nodding his head towards the curious object.

[Warlock]

“I’m looking to learn about this … entire Force lark,” he replied, whilst sitting down – thankful to get off of his feet.

Warlock smiled.

“… And that is my walking stick.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Though uninvited, he might have taken a step or two more into the room, but still leaned against the wall just inside the door. His arms were still crossed over his chest defensively.

He eyed the ‘walking stick’, a doubtful look still firmly upon his face. And then the apprentice looked back to the warlock, as if considering the truth of the statement.

“You really don’t know anything about it already?” He asked. There was doubt in his voice as he spoke.

[Warlock]

“I do, but not enough to have any real note, I suppose. I have study other things, though I imagine they would not be welcome within the confines of this wall … after all, we are here to study the Force, not … some archaic conjuring tricks.”

A thin smile came over the old mans lips.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

The mention of archaic conjuring tricks got his attention. Not that the Warlock hadnt had it already.

“What do you mean, conjuring tricks?” Maxim asked, his head had cocked curiously to the side and attitude seemed to fly out the window. It didn’t matter if it was the force or not, if it was some kind of skill of some kind that would help to beat his opponents, he wanted to learn it.

“Why wouldn’t they be welcome?” He added, though the way he said it wasn’t questioning. It was more an expression of disbelief that such a thing would be forbidden.

“Just because we’re supposed to learn the dark side of the force shouldn’t mean we cant learn other things.” He paused for a moment, but only for a moment before he spoke again.

“Will you show me?” He asked.

[Warlock]

“I don’t think that would be at all wise, my boy. Not without consent from your elders.”

The warlock smiled – however odd it looked on him – a consoling smile.

“Don’t you agree?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

The sigh indicated agreement, though it was heavy with disappointment as well. Perhaps heavier with disappointment, even and this showed in his expression as it fell.

“I suppose….” He finally mumbled, shifting his weight.

“But what if Lady Vader says its ok?” He asked a moment later, the expression on that normally scowling face of his lighting up a bit.

“Then would you show me, maybe?”

[Warlock]

“Perhaps… if my brethren agreed to it. It’s not often we teach those who ask … more often we find those with potential ourselves.”

He pursed his lips, in thought.

“… That permitting, I think I could arrange something.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

With the Warlock’s first response, Maxim had been about to inquire as to whether or not he had potential. And depending upon the answer, why or why not.

But the next few words somewhat soothed this hasty response of his, and was replaced with a look of excitement.

“Really?” He asked, leaving no room for a response after, “I’ll ask Lady Vader first thing when I see her then.” The apprentice added. These words were not spoken with out of control excitement, but rather his way of speaking that seemed to indicate that nothing in the galaxy was really all that exciting. It was a simple cover for the insecure kid that he really was.

“Who are your brethren, anyway?” He asked. His dark eyes seemed to study the warlock, openly curious about the old man.

[Warlock]

Mentally Warlock recounted his fellow arch magi and could not help but chuckle when he thought of the acolytes – among who was his own favorite, the enchantress Azumith, a fine sorceress in the making. For a moment he grew distant before snapping back to reality slowly.

“Just others like me … some young, some old, all a little … eccentric.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

He shifted his weight from foot to foot,and as he stood there. And as he did so, he felt a slight discomfort of something in his pockets pressing against him. He reached in to find his key, the one he’d thought earlier to have misplaced.

He stared at it for a moment before he looked back to the Warlock.

“Why’d you wait so long to come here?” He asked, his question automatically seeming to assume that the warlock had known all along about the force.

[Warlock]

“I didn’t know it existed until one of its wayward members enlightened me. I’ve spent much of my life stowed away in the temple my order owns, you see. I’m a… quite far down the proverbial grape-vine.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

“So this…order you belong to was fine with you leaving to come learn about the force?” He asked, turning his room key over and over in his hand before stuffing it back into his pants pocket.

He was a bright kid, despite what his grades in school might have attested and curious about subjects which interested him - this clearly being one of them.

“What were you part of, a group of monks?” He asked, seemingly not understanding how someone could have spent their entire life holed up in a temple without good reason.

[Warlock]

“Sorcerers, my boy. Witches, wizards and the like. And they all would most certainly not object to my extra studies… as of the last communal vote I am the head of the coven and thus may do what I wish,” he replied, the arrogant pride becoming obvious in his voice.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

“So you’re a warlock.” He stated, dark eyes staring and staring.

When they blinked and he looked away, it was with a broad grin.

He’d heard the pride in the old man’s voice. It was the same sense of pride he’d of had if – damn it all, he was finally something other than a lowly apprentice.

“Ive heard about your kind. Practicing ancient arts that everyone believes is a crock of...."

He stopped just before he said it, realizing he was in the presence of the leader of a coven. And in his mind, a senior citizen.

"Not that it matters, but I believe in that stuff...." He added. And this was the truth. For years he had worn about his neck a thick black cord. It was woven from the hide of a black dragon, according to the one who sold it to him on the street, and would serve to protect him in times of need. He wasnt sure how much he believed the last part, or for that matter, the first part, but he liked the idea of it all.

He said this as he’d been looking away still, finally turning to look back at the old man sitting on the bed before him.

[Warlock]

“That’s the name most know me by, yes… and yes, we do dabble into some more archaic practices, but although old it is far from being useless.”

Another little smile danced on his thin lips as he looked up at Maxim, squinting his eyes slightly.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Ah hah. So finally, he was getting somewhere. To at least have some sort of name to call the ancient man who would now be inhabiting what he had come to consider his hallway.

As the old warlock seemed to smile up at him, Maxim instinctively turned to glance behind him in the doorway, as if there were someone else there that perhaps the warlock were sharing a secret with – for that was what the smile on his thin lips seemed to express to the rather impatient apprentice.

“What?” He asked, turning back to the Warlock.

“Whats so amusing?” His arms now crossed over his chest once again, his head cocked in question.

[Warlock]

“You remind me of a younger version of me,” he chuckled before looking down to straighten out his robes some.

“Now tell me… is there anywhere to eat around here or are we Sith expected to starve?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

You remind me of a younger version of me

This comment surprised him. And ti showed briefly as his scowl lifted a bit. He might have even shifted his position slightly, as if somewhat embarrassed by what he considered to be a compliment of sorts.

Now tell me… is there anywhere to eat around here or are we Sith expected to starve?

He shook his head at this, a full grin finally making its way to his face.

“Naw, not most of the time, anyway.” He replied, remembering one night in particular when he’d been caught causing trouble and, rather like a child, sent immediately to his chambers to think about his foolishness. He’d gone without dinner that night, for once not daring to try to bend the rules. He knew, most of the time, when he’d pushed a bit too far.

“I can show you if want….” He offered.

“Just don’t forget to bring your key with you….” He added
quickly. There had to be some purpose, he was sure, behind the idea of making the apprentices use keys rather than magic or keypads. Perhaps it was to teach them some sort of responsibility. Something Maxim hadnt really had to deal with until now.

[Warlock]

The Warlock nodded and got to his feet, straining a little. He plucked the key from its resting place on the window sill and motioned for Maxim to lead the way. Notably he left the staff behind, and as he walked further from it the orb dimmed more and more until its light disappeared completely.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

As they began walking down the hall, Maxim slowed his pace for the warlock. Normally, he was one with long strides that easily carried him where he needed to go. Now, he moved slowly, falling into step beside the warlock.

"The cafeteria is only a floor below here...." He began, acting as a tour guide of sorts.

"Dont open your window on Monday mornings, because thats when they do a lot of the preparation for the week and the smell of it will stay in your room the whole week long...." He warned, having learned these things first hand.

"Do you think you'll stick around here for a while?" He asked, eager to figure out how much time he had to convince his master to let the warlock teach him, and then in turn, convince the warlock to actually teach him, and of course, the time it would take to really learn.

[Warlock]

“Oh, as long as I need to,” he replied as he followed, arms folded behind his back whilst walking.

“Which I imagine will be some time.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim nodded in understanding of the old man’s response.

“So what was it - ” He corrected himself, “is it like being part of a coven?” He asked.

They walked together down the marble stairway that led to the floor and were now in a grand hallway that led into the dining room.

[Warlock]

“It’s very interesting indeed. There is a lot of competition among members, as I imagine there is here. People are trained by their elders and progress through ranks as they learn the various crafts… I imagine the major difference between it and this place is that a coven does not have such … family-like ties. We do not object to removing another member for our own good or goals.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

In the cafeteria, they entered a buffet style line to select their meals. Maxim, being the growing young man that he was heaped piles of food onto his plate as he continued to interrogate the Warlock in his typical fashion.

He raised an eyebrow at the idea of it being less of a family.

"Are there rules about who can be....removed?" He asked.

(ooc: Would you mind jumping into this thread...? :)

http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=29604 )

[Warlock]

“None at all,” he replied as his eyes wandered what was on offer on the food front.

Selecting a bread roll out and taking a small bite from it, he nodded thoughtfully.

“Although,” he continued, “there are unspoken rules… one does not try to attack ones superior… not out of respect, but because it would be suicidal.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Well, that was one concept Maxim somewhat agreed with. To attack his master would be suicidal - most certainly. He had felt her power and while he did not bow before her, he did respect Lady Vader and treat her with a certain degree of reverence.

"Does it happen often among the others though?" He asked, his nose wrinkling a bit at this evenings selection of food. He wasnt a picky eater, but he really just didnt care all that much for the main course, though, he would eat it without complaint.

He led the way to a table across the room.

"I mean, is there a lot of internal strife?"

[Warlock]

Warlock eased down into a seat at the table, thankful for being off of his feet.

“Of course. Just as here students are competitive with one another, in the temple there was turmoil too. Younger pupils striving, all too often, to impress their Masters by out-doing one another… when in truth it only showed a weakness of character.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim raised an eyebrow. His tray he set on the table with the normal disregard of a young adult. It clattered slightly, the glasses filled to the brim with drinks spilling across the tray a bit.

"So you're saying you never did anything like that?" He asked, his voice expressing his disbelief as he slid into the seat, reaching for a napkin to throw haphazardly across the liquid spreading over the tray.

[Warlock]

“Of course I did, when I was younger.”

A knowing smile came over Warlock.

“But I out grew it, like most did.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

He scowled slightly, tossing the soaking napkin towards a trash bin not far from their table.

Maxim was in such a phase, to some degree. He was cocky, but not cocky enough to believe he had the strength to defeat a master. But cocky enough to challenge the knights - Odin being one of them. This, he felt, was the best way to learn - challenging himself.

"You grew out of it because you were promoted..." His dark eyed gaze looked to the warlock.

"Didnt you?"

[Warlock]

“I grew out of it because there eventually came a time when there was no one to impress but those below me – and what good is skill on show if you are demonstrating only to the inept. There is no challenge in that.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim nodded.

“Yeah, I guess…” He replied, still thinking about what it would be like to be a master of something. To be better than all the rest.

“How long did it take you…?” Curious dark eyes gazed across the table at the Warlock. This was perhaps the politer way of asking just how ancient the old guy was, anyway.

[Warlock]

“About fourty years.”

Warlock took up his fork and prodded a bit at the food he’d been given. It didn’t look all that appetizing but he tried it none the less and was pleasantly surprised that it just looked awful.

“I started when I was about… oh, hrm… I think I was thirty… six. Yes, thirty six. I remember because it was a few days before my birthday when I originally was, ah… recruited.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

"Holy..." He cut himself off just in time. The warlock was...well..ancient.

But something else caught the apprentice's attention as well.

"Recruited...?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, his fork stopping in the air between his plate and his mouth.

"How were you recruited...?"

[Warlock]

“I was working in a library, as a clerk, and one night a man came in and up turned the whole place, just with a wave of his hands shelves and books strewn everyway,” the Warlock rose a hand and passed it through the air for effect.

“He knocked me out and dragged me to some god forsaken place, like a dungeon it was …”

The excited tone in his voice seemed to vanished, “And now forty years on I’m his superior.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

He raised an eyebrow at the story. He couldn’t imagine working as a clerk in a library – it jut wasn’t a place Maxim would typically be found – but he could picture the entire room being upturned in such a fashion.

“Why did he knock you out? Were you fighting him or something?” Maxim asked, and following it, as if there were may more behind it, came another.

“And why did he pick you? I mean, had he been watching you for a while or something? Or is there some sort of prophesy or something?”

His fork was still suspended in the air and he was rather clearly enthralled with the story, wanting to hear more.

He could take the hint by the tone of the Warlock's voice that he didnt care for the man who had dragged him off all that much. Something hinted at hostility - and he wanted to know - but he had enough tact to try to hold off on that line of questioning - at least for the moment.

[Warlock]

“He had just wrecked hundreds of years worth of literature. I was quite furious with him,” Warlock said, with a deal of composure.

“I wasn’t putting up a fight though – I couldn’t, even if I’d wanted. He was far much more powerful than me.”

He took a moment to catch his breath.

“He picked me because he believed it was what I wanted… all that time in the library I’d read so many books, learnt about so many things… he thought that since I’d read about magic and the like I wanted to be like him.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

He picked me because he believed it was what I wanted… all that time in the library I’d read so many books, learnt about so many things… he thought that since I’d read about magic and the like I wanted to be like him.

Maxim canted his head.

“Well…didn’t you?” He asked.

“I mean, how could you not want the power he demonstrated….the power the books talk about….?” It was so evident that he was of the sith – hungry, as they all were, for power.

[Warlock]

“I did enjoy reading about it, but the thought that it was all real never crossed my mind. I thought he was just some mad man, come to kill me.”

Warlock had received numerous scars that night, and the nights thereafter, from trials he had been put through by Darmok.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim cocked his head slightly.

“You were never curious enough that you tried to do any of the stuff you read in the books?” He asked.

His curiosity had often driven him to try such things. And had he actually liked reading when he was younger, might have explored further than he had. Instead, he’d merely fooled around with mind tricks, reading and influencing the minds of others simply because it was something that had come rather naturally to him.

[Warlock]

“Of course… but I failed in my first few attempts and after that just dismissed it so that I could carry on with my job. Working in the library was my lively hood – if I lost that because of my hobby for something I’d starve.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim nodded. It wasn’t the same learning from a master of the art and learning from a book. It wasn’t the same at all.

“So what happened after he trashed the library? You said he dragged you off somewhere that was like a dungeon…”

He had forgotten all about actually eating dinner at this point as the questions rolled off his tongue.

“Was he a good master…?”

[Warlock]

“Yes, he must have carried me back to the temple by himself… I woke and he began to question me, treating me like a child, of course. I later learnt that he had somewhat of a superiority complex and still to this day cannot shake it off,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“As far as Masters go, he was fair. He taught me what I needed to know and nothing else. He made sure he did not praise me and allow me to become overconfident. I suppose my becoming Arch Mage of the Subryn affirms his ability to teach, considering I have surpassed him.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

He had finally taken a bite or two while the Warlock spoke. And though he ate, he listened intently to every word.

“Do you really think it was his teaching?” He finally asked, “Or more that you had a natural talent and just needed a little help getting started?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I know you said you tried it on your own before and it didn’t work, but….”

His words trailed off for a moment, “I guess its natural to need someone to show you the way sometimes…” He added, his voice a bit lower and slightly subdued than it had been as he realized that being an apprentice was perhaps not the worst thing in the world. Everyone had to start somewhere…even great Warlocks.

[Warlock]

“I think it was a little of both,” he replied with an assuring nod.

“Do you think you would have study the Force alone had you not come to this place?”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim shrugged.

“Im not really sure what I would have done.” He admitted.

“It wasn’t anything that was on my mind until I ran into this kid in the spaceport on my way home from spring break. I almost ignored his suggestion, but something…”

He shook his head, “I don’t know, I guess I was ready for a change. School wasn’t really my thing….”

He gave a slight grin.

“Then again, Im not sure this is either. It frustrates me more than homework ever did….but maybe its because I actually care now.”

“Have you heard of anyone ever studying the force alone and actually becoming good at it….?”

[Warlock]

“I think there have been a few… but they usually prosper only after having had guidance to begin with. They learn some then stray from their tutors to continue their path alone,”

Warlock took a small sip of his drink and sighed lightly.

“It would be hard, but fruitful, no doubt.”

[Duke Quells]

A faint clanking sound could be heard in the hallway, growing ever louder by the minute. It was Duke Quells of Antioch, still looking for any signs of life in this Palace that he had come to seeking knowledge of the strange powers he possessed, and how to control them. His armour was making the sounds, clanking together as he stalked down the passage. With so many doors, Duke wondered if he may of made a wrong turn. When he reached the end of a hallway, there was a door slightly ajar. When he peered inside, he sighted the old man he had sighted earlier, along with another, younger man near the door entrance. He eased a hand on the door, slamming it open, and stepped into the room.

"Excuse me for interrupting, O wise one, but where exactly was it that you wanted me to go? This place seems to be more of a crypt than a Palace."

[Maxim Vasilijev]

OOC NOTE: We are in the DINING HALL, not the Warlock’s room at this point.

IC:
Maxim had turned at the odd clanking sound of armor. Most who entered the dining hall had either removed such armor, so this was an odd sight for him to see.
He echoed the sentiment that the palace was at times more like a crypt. The halls were confusing and in the later hours, so dark that even those who walked the night would perhaps give a moments pause to admire it.

He wasn’t at all happy to have the conversation disturbed, but he’d been spoken to one to many times about fighting with his brethren, and so he fought to keep his trap shut and not make an instigating sort of comment. Instead, he waited for the Warlock to speak, for he was clearly the one whom the newcomer was addressing.

[Warlock]

Warlock's eyes narrowed and it seemed that behind them cogs were turning and trying to dredge up some lost piece of information. He wore the look of a man who had just been greeted by some distant relative who he had not seen for years and had hoped he would never encounter again. It was a faint recognition, but one that gave no name or reason for the recognition.

"We're eating our dinner," he observed, nodding at the barely touched plate in front of him and the one which Maxim was quickly demolishing.

The young man still remained however, looming over their meal expectantly. Warlock sighed.

"I am not the leader of this group, I am a apprentice just like this boy beside me," he vaguely waved his fork in Maxim's direction.

[Duke Quells]

Hearing this from the old one was not what Duke wanted to hear. If these men had been accepted as Sith Apprentices, then they obviously met with the Sith Leader, which obviously means that they know how to get in contact with him/her.

"And what of you, scrawny one? Do you know how to find what I seek, where the leader of the Sith resides?"

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Well that brought him to his feet. Maxim was not only quick tempered, but short on patience of any sort. And not the sort to back down, on any occasion, from an insult.

Not to mention, he wasnt exactly scrawny. At least, not so far as humans went.

Dark eyes narrowed as he glared at the fully armored one.

"Dont you think if you were worth it they would have found you by now?" He retorted.

[Park Kraken]

Heh. Logged in as the wrong person. Please Delete Post. :o

[Warlock]

“Don’t just a book by its cover,” Warlock murmured into a spoonful of something before chewing thoughtful, watching the two cocksure young men as they stood, facing off.

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim gave the Warlock a quick glance, not 100% sure of whether the advice was intended for one of both of them.

The Warlock’s words, to some degree, echoed those of his master – to be sure not to ever underestimate an opponent.

Oh he knew he was but an apprentice, but so far…he’d been able to get him out of most of the scrapes his temper had gotten him into. And he stood his ground.

[Duke Quells]

He stood there, facing off the young man that had just spat vile words to his face. He stood there clenching his fists for several long moments. Then, with a long exhale, he let his anger exit him with his breath. But, that did not mean the young one was off the hook just yet.....

"Do you wish to spar with me, boy?"

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Spar? Hell yeah, he did. Maxim never passed up an opportunity to spar. But the behavior of this one thus far hadnt seemed exactly like it was a spar he’d intended – rather, Maxim had believed it had been an all out brawl. And to some degree, it was what he was looking for as well. His quick temper being on that didn’t take so well to anyone speaking to him in condescending tones.

“Yeah, I’ll spar with you.” He replied, then cast a quick glance at the Warlock.

He wanted to add ‘later’ to the end of his reply, because he wanted to stay and learn more from the old warlock, but his ego wasn’t about to let him back down from a challenge. And adding later might seem like he was chickening out.

[Duke Quells]

"Fine. Catch"

Duke unsheathed, and threw one of his two lightweight swords to the boy. He then unstrapped all of his armour, and it fell to the ground with loud clanging sounds. Duke then unsheathed his other lightweight sword, and took a pose hunched forward, with his sword out in front of him......

"First one to draw blood from the torso wins."

[Warlock]

Warlock had risen up to his feet with suprising speed for one so old and had his staff held fiercely in one hand.

“Both of you!” his gray eyes darted between the two younger men.

“Fighting in the dining hall?” his brow furrowed.

“You,” the staff pointed to Duke, “You are not yet a member, so I would advise great caution on your part, my boy. Such brash actions may not favour you well.”

“And you,” now to Maxim, “I would have thought you would know better.”

[Maxim Vasilijev]

Maxim caught the sword that was tossed to him. He hadnt exactly expected top be sparring in the dining hall. He’d thought it would be taken outside. His master, Lady Vader, had been forgiving of his mistakes, but sparring in the dining hall, he had a feeling, would not be something she would forgive quite so easily. And he wasn’t sure how to get out of this one without looking like he was backing down.

The Warlock took care of it for him. And Maxim’s head might have hung a bit in shame at the scolding tone the Warlock had used.

“I….” He stopped speaking and sighed deeply in a clearly aggravated and frustrated tone before he gave Quells a nasty glare. Had he not shown up, Maxim would have been just fine. And certainly not getting scolded by the warlock.

“If you want your spar, you’ll get it.” He snarled.

“On the training grounds in an hour.” With this, he tossed the sword back at Quells and stalked from the hall.

[Duke Quells]

Duke watched the young man leave, then started to leave as well, but he stopped. He remembered about what the old man said about all members of the TSO being like family to each other. And, with the short words spoken by the old man, remembered once again that this world or goverment doesn't necessarily take in tradition of Antioc fighting. In Antioc, Duke remembered, first blood duels in a bar, or dining room was always a fancy thing. That history was long gone, and it was time to forget, along with several other things, Duke realised. He picked his armour up off the ground, and fitted the pieces to a statue of a Dark Jedi in the hall. On the way out, he muttered, "A thousand apologies, O great one", then proceeded to the court yard. He had a score to settle.