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 Star Wars: Episode 1 RP

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Jarrax Volk
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PostSubject: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Sat Sep 12, 2009 6:06 pm

Hey there! This is the start of a brand new adventure, using the standard TLG character profiles!

This RP, set in the Star Wars Universe, starts in 32 BBY, the year of the events of Episode 1: The Phantom Menace. I'm going to try to stay away from the movie storyline, as I want this to be about our characters and their adventures, with only cameo nods to the overarching story.

To get to your character profile, go to your TLG profile, and there will be a link in the upper right-hand corner that says Character Profile. Click it, and you will see your Profile. Fill it out, and copy and paste it into the RP thread. (You will have to re-fill in some fields, and possibly separate some paragraphs). An excellent resource for all things Star Wars is http://starwars.wikia.com. Use it if you need to know anything specific, or you can just ask me, and I'll try to help you out.

A NOTE ABOUT THE PROFILE: The current profile uses a bar system made of 7 units for different attributes. Note the following: 1-4/7 are poor, fair, medium, acceptable. 5-7 are good, excellent, superior. Please make your character somewhat realistic. Wookieepedia (the above link) has a list of Force Powers, plus a list of Canon fighting styles. For the most part, try to remain canon as far as abilities and equipment--or a conceivably canon alternative.

Please post your character profiles first. Post any RP ideas in the idea thread, and when we're all ready, I'll start us off. Ok? GO!

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Name: Jarrax Volk
Age: 30
Home: Savannah One
Race: Leonine
Gender: Male
Height: 6'6"
Weight: 350
Affiliation: Post-Ruusan Jedi Order
Class: Jedi Weapon Master
Preferred Weapon(s): Twin dual-phase blue lightsabers
Preferred Fighting Style(s): Jar'Kai/Yovshin/Juyo/Djem So/Ataru/Makashi
Intelligence: 5/7
Strength: 7/7
Speed: 6/7
Durability: 7/7
Energy Projection: 4/7
Fighting Skills: 7/7

Physical Description:

Jarrax was covered in medium-length cream-white fur. It could change color slightly in order to correspond with the seasons on Savannah One, or his emotions. He had icy-blue eyes, with a canine-like head, medium-length muzzle, and pointy ears. A Yuuzhan Vong Commander gave him a slight, reddish scar over his left eye--courtesy of a duel on Yavin 13. On two legs, he stood at 6'6" (approx. 2 meters), with his tail adding another 3'5" (approx. 1 meter) onto that. He weighed 350 pounds. He had large front paws with opposable thumbs, like humans, and five razor sharp claws on each paw. His large back paws did not have opposable digits, though there were still five--and five claws as well. He had advanced balancing mechanisms, including a prehensile, lion-like, white-tufted tail, which enabled all the standard feline acrobatics, along with the ability to switch between locomotion on two or four legs. His tail possessed a sharp 5cm long spine, hidden by the tuft. Leonines, Jarrax included, had an extremely wide range of communication methods, from the usual vocal speech patterns, to intricate body language patterns, versatile canine/feline vocalizations, and some capacities for secondary languages. Jarrax also had a deep bass voice. He possessed fairly standard internal anatomy, though most organs were larger than human standard. His mane grew very slowly throughout his lifetime, becoming its fullest in old age. Jarrax had standard Leonine dentition. The maxilla had six incisors, two canines, eight premolars, and four molars. The mandible had six incisors, two canines, eight premolars, and six molars. The fourth upper premolars and first lower molars constituted the carnassial teeth, which were essential tools for shearing flesh. The long canine teeth were also important, in that they held and subdued prey. Jarrax's teeth--indeed ALL Leonine teeth--were self-sharpening, and were much harder than human teeth, therefore requiring sharpening only VERY slightly, and lasted for his entire lifetime. His jaw structure was very strong and resilient, enabling him to crush organic material--and some non-organic material--with a pressure of 5000 pounds per square inch. Jarrax's body structure was similar to that of a carnivorous predator: dense skeleton, heavily muscled, with resilient and flexible joints, extraordinarily sharp senses, and a highly refined nervous system. Jarrax's vision was very sharp--and he was able to see in three different modes. He had standard, night-vision, and thermal vision modes. His skeletal structure was extremely dense, partially accounting for his weight--and also preventing many broken bones. He was extremely well-muscled, allowing for powerful blows when fighting and subduing prey or an enemy, lithe and agile enough to evade or dodge many attacks, and also extremely fast--even running for medium distances on all fours at a natural top speed of 50 mph. He had a natural leaping and jumping ability, with the maximum vertical distance (from a slight running start) around 10 meters, or 33 feet. From a standing start, his horizontal leaping maximum was also about 10 meters. With a running start, this could be increased to 16 meters. His sense of smell was keen--able to discern individual scents even to 1 part in 100 million. Jarrax had a primal side to his nature, at very certain times becoming so strong as to cast what the Leonines called a Blood-Haze. This state of savagery greatly increased Jarrax's already formidable tolerance to injury, as well as increasing his strength. A Force-Technique Jarrax developed harnessed this Blood-Haze, but the Blood-Haze could also be artificially induced--with great potential for harm or death to Jarrax. Leonines had long lifespans--and Jarrax was no exception. Reaching maturity early in life, unless disease, accident, or foul play claimed them, Leonines lived to be extremely old--but their maximum age was never recorded.

Character Background:

Jarrax was born in 62 BBY on Savannah One, a planet located just off the Rimma Trade Route, near the Minos Cluster, in the Elrood sector. His early life was spent in a family group almost like a tribal unit--much like the Wookiee family unit. Since Savannah One was a planet with a wide range of climes and climates, all in close range with each other, Jarrax had many opportunities to explore, and hone his skills at hunting, running, climbing, stalking, swimming, and leaping. Being a predator, Jarrax had a great love of the hunt. When hunting or fighting, he was fierce and unrelenting, often laughing or roaring challenges to his opponents. Outside of combat however, Jarrax was much more calm, and could be very quiet or very loud as the impulse struck him. He was known for his patience with others--and also his impatience with events. He was an advocate of the Living Force, and advocated maintaining awareness of the future, but not at the expense of the moment. Though highly courageous, charismatic and utterly loyal, Jarrax was a loner by nature, only having a few close friends, but cordial with most other beings. Groups other than his family or close friends made him feel strained and restricted, and he had to continually work on teamwork skills during his early years. Jarrax eventually came to the point where he could tolerate working in large groups--though they still occasionally made him impatient. Jarrax was a master of surprise and stealth, often scaring those who were least expecting it. He also loved giving surprises--and took his Padawan on more than one surprise journey.

Talents/Abilities:

Jarrax fought using a fluid, natural style, encompassing tooth, claw, kicks, punches, throws, and whatever weapon he was wielding at the time--usually his lightsabers, blaster, or vibroblade. When using lightsabers, Jarrax could fight using several of the styles he had advanced in--but preferred fighting in the one he had mastered: Form X: Jar'Kai, or it's variant, Form Xb: Yovshin. Though he used Jar'Kai, Yovshin was really the style he was most naturally suited to. Besides the one style (and variant) he had mastered, Jarrax incorporated elements of the first six traditional styles into his personal style, and had advanced in Djem So, Ataru and Makashi. His fluid agility and speed allowed him to make the most of Makashi and Ataru, while his sheer strength aided him in Djem So. The sum total of his natural abilities made Jarrax well-suited to Yovshin: his strength and reach allowed him to approximate full-power blows from greater distances, while his agility and speed allowed him to overwhelm most opponents easily. Jarrax used a combination of evasive skills, energy redirection, and more traditional blocks and strikes to make a confusing, highly unpredictable combat style. A cunning and highly intelligent predator's mind allowed him to strategize and calculate angles of attack with ruthless efficiency, expanding his opportunities in battle. The primal side of his nature lent ferocity and tenacity to his attacks--turning Jarrax Volk into a nigh-unstoppable, and highly feared fighter. As a Jedi Guardian, Jarrax used his Force powers to augment his natural abilities via Force Speed, Force Valor, and other similar powers. Though strong in the Force, Jarrax's strength resided in the Living Force, and he was not quite as adept at sheer Force manipulation as other Jedi. Under extreme circumstances, he could do so, but the effort drained him severely. In contrast, he was much more naturally suited to combat than other Jedi. He even developed a few unique Force powers, Force Roar and Force-Haze among them. Force Roar transmuted the acoustic vibrations of a roar into a directed paralyzing wave, able to be focused or widened as the situation dictated. The downside to this ability was that its preparation time was fairly long, and had to be uninterrupted. Force-Haze was an extremely dangerous technique, one that drew Jarrax's primal nature into his logical civilized mind. This Force power gave the primal nature intelligence, strategy, cunning, and reasoning ability--far outstripping the abilities of either the primal mind alone, or the civilized mind alone. In this state, only the Force held him above a total descent into the Blood-Haze.

Equipment:

Jarrax preferred to wear earthy tones, usually on some variation of the standard Jedi robes. If he wasn't wearing Jedi robes, he could been seen wearing whatever suited his purpose--from armor and jumpsuits to full-on disguises, or traditional Leonine garb. Jarrax usually went barefoot to allow for maximum tactile feel and traction, except under the harshest of conditions--then he wore dura-grip, magna-clasped combat boots. He preferred to wear dura-grip dueling knuckle-gloves on his paws under most circumstances, for ease of combat. He usually wore a miniaturized version of the standard Jedi utility belt, with emergency food capsules, water containers, an A99 Aquata breather, a dual-strand grappling spike launcher, and long-range comlink. In a somewhat unorthodox move, Jarrax chose to wear a BlasTech Industries T-6 "Thunderer" Superheavy Blaster Pistol in a tactical leg holster. He sometimes carried a shoulder holster containing extra blaster cartridges, and a concealment rig for his custom hunter's vibroblade. He wielded two standard length, dual-phase, straight-hilt lightsabers--icy-blue in standard configuration, deep emerald green in phased configuration. Phase-shift was accomplished via one button on each hilt.

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!



Last edited by Jarrax Volk on Thu Sep 17, 2009 9:32 pm; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : Changed Class to Weapon Master, not Guardian.)
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Zenith
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:33 pm

Name: Zenith Mulgrew

Age: 16

Home: Humbarine

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 140

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Class: Jedi Consular

Preferred Weapon(s): Silver bladed lightsaber

Preferred Fighting Style(s): No official style yet, but seems to have a tendency to use Ataru

Intelligence: 7/7

Strength: 5/7

Speed: 4/7

Physical Description: Zenith has black hair that is styled in the traditional Padawan braid. His eyes are a dark gray, and his skin is tanned. He is rather thin, but has a
decent amount of muscle for his age. He wears traditional Padawan Jedi robes.

Durability: 4/7

Energy Projection: 7/7

Fighting Skills: 5/7

Character Background: Zenith's family was a well-to-do family of traders who lived on Humbarine. At a young age, just like many other Padawans, he was found to be strong in the Force. After a few years of training as a youngling, he was taken as a Padawan by Mal'lik, who he is currently training under. He is considered something of a rogue amongst the Jedi Council, as he is able to use a fair amount of Dark Side powers. He remains a part of the Order, however, as he claims to be able to keep his feeling and passion under control.

Talents/Abilities: Zenith is able to use a wide variety of Force powers, as well as a few of the darker powers in the Jedi arsenal. Aside from this, he is an extraordinary pilot, mechanic, computer slicer, and can crack almost any security system.

Equipment: Jedi Robes
Lightsaber
S-5 heavy blaster pistol (Modified)
Standard Jedi Utility belt

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Jarrax Volk
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Sun Sep 13, 2009 8:20 pm

Name: Mal'lik Volk
Age: 30
Home: Savannah One
Race: Leonine
Gender: Male
Height: 6'6"
Weight: 350
Affiliation: Post-Ruusan Jedi Order
Class: Jedi Weapon Master
Preferred Weapon(s): Twin dual-phase electric blue lightsabers (instead of icy blue like his brother).
Preferred Fighting Style(s): Jar'Kai/Yovshin/Juyo/Djem So/Ataru/Makashi
Intelligence: 5/7
Strength: 7/7
Speed: 6/7
Durability: 7/7
Energy Projection: 4/7
Fighting Skills: 7/7

See Jarrax Volk for in-depth descriptions. Mal'lik Volk had green eyes and jet-black fur, instead of cream fur and blue eyes.

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!



Last edited by Jarrax Volk on Thu Sep 17, 2009 9:33 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Changed Class to Weapon Master, not Guardian, plus lightsaber color.)
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Age : 29
Location : the last place you looked

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Name:: Selma Lundor
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Mon Sep 14, 2009 1:14 am

Name: Selma Lundor
Age: 15
Home: Kashyyyk (birthplace)
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 120
Affiliation: Post-Ruusan Jedi Order
Class: Padawan, Jedi Guardian
Preferred Weapon(s): Light Saber (Golden light) officially
Preferred Fighting Style(s): Ataru, Soresu and her favorite, Teräs Käsi
Intelligence: 6/7
Strength: 5/7
Speed: 7/7
Durability: 6/7
Energy Projection: 5/7
Fighting Skills: 6/7



Physical Description: Selma has a lithe form though her arms and legs are quite muscular which can be seen in her choice of clothing. (Link in Equipment category)
Selma has blonde hair about shoulder length which is usually pulled back in a ponytail while training. Her skin is fairly tanned from long days outside since she prefers to train out in the sun. There are a few freckles sprinkling her nose and they help set off jade green sunburst eyes. (Picture found on character profile page, just add freckles lol)

Character Background: Selma Lundor was born to parents, Alia and Grant Lundor on the archipelagos of Kashyyyk. Her father is a political technology scientist who mainly deals with forms of weapons and how to improve them. From the time she was one, her father suspected she might be a Force Sensitive child and wrestled with the idea of alerting the Jedi Counsel. He finally let it leak to his coworker who convinced him it was the right thing for her.

When she was two, Selma was taken from her family to the Temple to start her life as a Jedi. She excelled quite quickly and was fascinated by everything she learned. This fascination turned into a strong drive to learn more, yet she was being taught with the others and this frustrated her, their pace being slower than desired. So in her free time she would take to learning all she could on her own, pushing herself beyond what was required.

At 10 she caught the eye of several potential Masters and the one who won out among them was a Leonine by the name of Jarrax Volk. Selma quickly bonded with him for when she was younger and had first caught sight of the white Leonine she was determined to be his Padawan. Her relationship with him is the strongest she knows of surrounding Padawans and their Masters. She would do anything for him, however she does have a rebellious streak and tends to get reprimanded a bit for her mouth. In her mind, he’s as cute as a teddy bear and she would love nothing more than to sit in his lap and hug him on her bad days. However, she refrains from telling him this but she figures he might know.

Selma is very secretive and inquisitive and curious. By nature she wants to know everything and has been caught more than once eavesdropping on important conversations. If people want to know things they shouldn’t they can usually count on going to her for the information.



Talents/Abilities: Selma has an uncanny knack for fighting and is exceptionally fast for being just a human. She would much rather fight hand to hand combat than with a weapon, however she does have a special place in her repertoire for weapons. Many credit her downright animalistic fighting style for why she attracted the attention of Master Volk in the first place.
Her favorite style of light saber combat is Ataru because of the athletic ability it takes, though she is coming along in Soresu. Her first love however would have to be Teräs Käsi. She spend hours on end practicing whether its with an opponent or by herself. Discipline in her training is one thing she does not lack, in fact many her age believe she might be too focused sometimes. Occasionally, her Master or friends might have to remind her to break and eat or sleep.

Equipment:

http://www.quizilla.com/user_images/A/AA/AAR/Aaranel/1129771829_WarsFemme3.jpg (The clothing not the girl)

Selma wears LG-5 gauntlets that she actually configured herself, customizing leather buckled fingerless gloves with the firing element. She also wears a utility belt loaded with various survival artifacts such as emergency food and a A99 Aquata breather (gift from her Master)
She wears a small IR-5 blaster pistol, commonly called the "Intimidator" on the small of her back using a holster that is attached to her belt. ( http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/thumb/2/2f/Ir-5_blaster_pistol.png/250px-Ir-5_blaster_pistol.png )Besides this weapon, Selma carries a standard dual phase lightsaber she hand-crafted. It has a few perks though, seeing her talent with weapons. It’s a yellow lighted laser that turns orange when phased, activated by a button located by her pinky finger and it more of a slide than a button. When she began constructing the device a package was given to her from an anonymous source. Within it held a krayt dragon pearl. Immediately exited about the challenge of adding this to her light saber she divulged in lengthy research. The second crystal in her lightsaber that makes it quite unique would be the Heart of the Guardian. This crystal was achieved by means of winning a bet while on an excursion with her Master--A story he likes to tell often when bragging on her. To add yet another challenge to making it, she decided on a curved hilt handle. ( http://www.starstore.com/acatalog/Tyranus-lightsaber-l.gif )She’s loved the weapon more than anyone should love an inanimate object.
Attached to her thigh by way of a leather holster, was a hand made Ryyk Blade. ( http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/swg/images/thumb/1/1f/Ryyk_Blade.jpg/60px-Ryyk_Blade.jpg )Though she was given several looks when she first expressed interest in this particular weapon, many would never say anything after watching her wield it. Something about it gives her a familiar safe feeling, one she can’t describe or place.
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Zenith
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Fri Sep 18, 2009 6:46 pm

Name: Dardan Amur (AM-or)
Age: 52
Home: Polar Mountainous regions of Savannah One
Race: Leonine
Gender: Male
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 235 pounds
Affiliation: Jedi Order
Class: Jedi Watchman (Sentinel)
Preferred Weapon: Double-bladed hawt pink lightsaber that splits into two halves.
Preferred Fighting Style: Djem So, but is also decent in Jar’kai
Intelligence: 6/7
Strength: 5/7
Speed: 6/7
Physical Description: Dardan is more wolf-like Leonine. He has a dull gray coat, a blazing pair of red eyes, and the beginnings of what would one day be a black mane. Dardan was short for a average Leonine, measuring only 6’2” and lightweight at 235 pounds. He has a fairly muscular structure, which he covers with a black Jedi robe. Since he grew up in one of the coldest areas on Savannah One, he found little use for shoes, only occasionally wearing wraps around his paws and hands in extremely harsh conditions.
Durability: 5/7
Energy Projection: 5/7
Fighting skills: 6/7
Character Background: As a young Leonine cub, Dardan lived in the coldest mountainous regions of Savannah One in a very small pack of Leonines. He never knew his mother and father, as they had been killed in a bear attack shortly after he had been weaned. The survivors of the pack had taken him in, and they were his family.
One day, when Dardan was only barely older than a toddler, he stumbled across a bloody human body buried face down in the snow. He was startled, and a little confused. He immediately ran back to the rest of his pack and told them of his discovery. Half a hour later, they returned with the body which, surprising, was still alive. The Leonines gained a new respect for the man when they learned he was a Jedi. Although the Jedi had never told them of his purpose on Savannah One, he had asked if he could take Dardan back with him for testing, and possible Jedi training. His pack had agreed, Dardan passed the tests, and was trained in the way of the Jedi. Now, he found himself as a Jedi Master, now training his second pupil in the way of the Force.

Although with his red eyes, black robes, and wolf like physique Dardan has a scary appearance, he is extremely kind and caring, rarely raising his voice in any occasion, and treating most matters with patience, kindness, and forgiveness.

Equiptment:
Jedi Robes
Wrapping for all four paws
Jedi Utility Belt

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Jarrax Volk
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PostSubject: THE STORY BEGINS . . . . .   Sat Sep 19, 2009 2:16 am

OT: JPs with myself, Jarius245, and Crowned with Laurels!

BOT:

Jarrax looked around--and as far as the eye could see, were different forms of sea-life. Dozens, if not hundreds of different crustaceans and fish swam around the reef. As Jarrax swam underwater, the rebreather in his muzzle let no bubbles escape to startle the friendlier fish. The reef was practically glowing in Force Presences. Deep within his body, Jarrax could feel the peaceful presence of Mal'lik, his brother, enjoying the cool early mountain morning.

Jarrax and his Padawan needed a slight break after their last mission, and the Council granted their request. Selma had wanted to see his homeworld, so here they went--and the White Sands Beach was their first stop.

Even underneath his fur, Jarrax was starting to get cold, so he gracefully swam toward the shore, crawling onto the beach and shaking his coat from nose to tail. After he was done, it fluffed out like a giant marshmallow for a few seconds. Jarrax sighed and smoothed it back down. His fur wasn't bulky--on the contrary, it was contoured to his body for the most part. In the water, that gave him the appearance of a sleek water mammal, not just a dangerous predator. On land, that attribute emphasized his powerful physique.

He padded to the spot on the white beach where he had laid his pack, and reached in for a pack of hydrade. He stood there, squinting under the bright sun, saltwater droplets catching the rays of light and shimmering as they fell from his body, evaporating when they hit the sand. Tourists were scattered here and there in beachwear, plus the native Leonine lifeguards, military, and citizenry. While most species required some sort of swimwear for modesty, Leonines were lucky. Jarrax had enough fur to be modest in ANY situation. He did wear a loincloth and belt however, to avoid any perceived insults with the various tourists. His tail waved and twitched, seemingly with a mind of its own, as he looked for the one other person around here close to him . . . . Sooner or later she would show up.

Mal'lik

It was a cool and misty morning in the forests of Savannah One, with all the creatures just beginning to stir. There was, however, one creature already up and meditating for the day.

Mal'lik Volk, Jedi Weapon Master, sat on the damp ground unconcernedly. His fur protected him from the dew as he reached out with the Force, feeling the teeming life present all around him. He drew in the Force with every breath, letting it wash through him, from the tips of his pointy ears, into his lupine muzzle, to the toes of his clawed feet, and down his furry lion-tuft tail. He lingered there for a long while, but then started to rise and go back to the camp.

Long black fur rippled as muscles like molten metal formed and dispersed, propelling him forward bonelessly and silently. His green eyes flashed as they took in every detail of the forest. This could be a dangerous place, and it paid to be observant. His clothing--what there was of it--was soft and silent. Normally he wore traditional Jedi robes, brown and tan, but when on his home planet, it felt so much better to dress in his native garb--which was to say, nearly nothing. This wasn't a problem, as Leonines had so much fur as to be modestly presentable in ANY state. All he required for traveling the ancient paths of the forests was a loincloth and a set of ceremonial arm bands. His lightsabers remained stashed away in their traveling case, and he carried no other technology, except one comlink for emergencies.

Mal'lik reached his campsite . . . and found his Apprentice still fast asleep. Slightly irritated, Mal'lik growled under his breath, and was about to wake his Apprentice up . . . and then he had an idea.

He dropped to all fours, padding toward the duraplast structure that was their shelter, and crept in silently, up his sleeping pad, until his long muzzle nearly touched his Apprentice's face.

Now to play his trick . . . Mal'lik assumed his most fearful expression, and started to growl. It wasn't your usual light growl. No, this was a full-on sub-contra-basso vocalization, with a stunning volume, rolling from deep in his chest. Mal'lik could see the pad rippling--and his Apprentice's hair as well. His reaction . . . Mal'lik laughed inwardly at the thought. Just a few more seconds before the sound registered his his Apprentice's foggy brain . . . .

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!

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Zealfire
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Sat Sep 19, 2009 10:59 pm

Name: Selena
Age: 17
Home: Serenno
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 5'3
Weight: 120lbs
Affiliation:
Class:
Preferred Weapon: Lightsaber
Preferred Fighting Style: Makashi

Physical Description:
. . . tall, elegant, high-boned, graceful, willowy, brunette, caucasian, perhaps pale skin, standard brown Jedi robes, long, smooth hands and fingers, overall striking, yet subdued.

fighting style: effortlessly graceful, feathery, not stick-like, long sweeping strokes, coupled with exquisite detail when needed. --hair color is probably blond then--
her fighting style, with a single lightsaber, is as elegant as she is.

Personality: quiet, probably with a regal bearing . . . perhaps she is a TEENSY bit prideful? She may very well believe her enemies are beneath her, and she may or may not have much patience for students who have difficulty mastering her fluidly graceful style of fighting. That said, she is one of the best lightsaber duelists in the Order. Her Force skills are accordingly not as strong, but she professes to be devoted to the light. Perhaps her slight arrogance may allow her to struggle with the dark side, but she will overcome it like she does everything else--though not without great trials and pain.

In areas other than combat, she is a skilled diplomat, able to work in the delicate art of diplomacy (making others want what you want) but may show impatience with dullard officials.

Talents/Abilities:
Makashi, Ataru and Niman.
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Thu Oct 08, 2009 4:21 pm

Jarrax Volk and Selma Lundor

Jarrax and his Padawan needed a slight break after their last mission, and the Council granted their request. Selma had wanted to see his homeworld, so here they went--and the White Sands Beach was their first stop.

Thump-thump-thump-thump. The soft steady rhythm of bare feet running on sand could barely be heard as Selma did her morning run. A much faster beat echoed in her ears from within her chest as her heart kept up with the paces she was putting it through with her cardio routine. Her nostrils flared in time to her feet as she forced herself to breathe through her nose. The fabric of her thin leather tank top clung to her skin, the sweat acting as glue as it dripped down her abdomen. Her shorts--made of thinsuit material-- were tight anyway so as not to interfere or irritate her on her run. Her utility belt tapped her hips and the pouches swung lightly as she moved.

Selma could be seen as any runner going through their morning routine, only she ran with her eyes closed. There were few fighters better than her, yet her Force-use could be strengthened in her mind. So Selma ran with her eyes closed, pressing out around her with the Force to better feel her surroundings. The more she did this exercise the more she fell in love and realized it was much better than using her physical eyesight. She was able to "see" more and the quality of her "vision" was to die for- or rather live for.

After 20 minutes more of the routine Selma slowed slightly and opened her eyes. She sensed her Master was near...she could even smell the wet fur. A sly grin graced her light pink lips revealing a dazzling white smile. She came to a halt and concentrated on cloaking herself-something Master Jarrax was helping her learn. Feeling she was sufficiently gone from sight and sound Selma began to run again. More sweat beaded on her brow as this took more concentration and effort for her. She sped up and saw her Master within reach. Swiftly she wrapped her arms around his wet fur, planning on taking him to the ground in a tumbling sprawl.

Jarrax grinned. "5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1!" On ONE, he turned a split second before his Apprentice slammed into him, wrapping his burly arms around her in a hug--but fell backwards anyway. Over and over they tumbled, kicking up sand everywhere, until Jarrax finally landed on his back, his Apprentice coming to a stop on his chest. "Good job Selma!" Jarrax laughed, a rolling laugh that sent his muzzle wide open, flashing his ivory teeth. "You ALMOST got me! You're getting better at cloaking your Force-presence!"

Mal'lik Volk and Zenith Mulgrew

Zenith has been lying silently, in a peaceful and quiet sleep. His dreams were pleasant, and he slept comfortably.

He had been worn out from the day before, however, as he and his Master, Mal'lik, had embarked on their survival trip deep into the wilderness of Savannah One. Mal'lik had said something about Zenith being "too much of a city slicker" and "a softie" and something about "needing to learn how to rough it". So, after a quick flight on one of the Temple's shuttles (which Zenith enjoyed getting a chance to pilot), they had embarked into forest.

The purpose of this expedition was for Zenith to get a chance to do some tracking. Mal'lik had sent a Jedi survival expert ahead of them, and Zenith was to track him, with his master's help of course. That would be all well and good, but Mal'lik had given the guide a week's head start. Zenith felt like he was playing hide and seek in the middle of Coruscant! But, he had kept his concerns to himself, they had set up camp, and now Zenith was dreaming sweetly.

That is, until he heard the growl.

The loud, no, GROUND SHAKING roar that had been emitted very close to his ear had startled him to say the least. His eyes shot open, and he leaped to his feet, fumbling for his lightsaber. The blade shot out with the traditional -snap hiss- sound, and Zenith pointed it wildly in the direction of the growl.

Only to see his master's smiling face.

Zenith realized what had happened, of course, and was feeling rather embarrassed about himself. He shook his head, withdrawing his lightsaber. "You know, master... I laughed the first time. I chuckled the second time. I found it amusing the third time. But... EVENTUALLY that joke is going to grow old..." he glared for a moment, but his face broke out into a grin. "Although... I suppose it wouldn't happen if I would just crawl out of bed, would it?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm up. I'm up. Are you ready to hit the road?" He asked. He was already dressed in his training gear: light combat pants, his Jedi belt, and wraps covering his lower torso. His upper body remained bear to provide relief from the rather humid weather. He snapped his lightsaber onto his side, and awaited instruction.

Mal'lik grinned even more widely and sat back on his knees. "You would also have missed your breakfast if you hadn't gotten up when you did. I can eat enough for FIVE of you if I want to, you know." His bass voice rumbled as the sentence trailed off, and right on cue his stomach protested, growling in its own right.

Mal'lik led his apprentice out of the durastructure and rummaged through their packs for nutrition bars. They were tasteless and chewy, but a man could go a full day on one or two. They had purifiers for the creek water nearby--a liquid so cold it made Mal'lik's fur shiver. All in all, it was refreshing. After giving his Apprentice his breakfast, Mal'lik buried of the remnants of his own: the bones of a brace of quailons caught roaming the forest floor. He did so enjoy his breakfast to go.

While his Apprentice was downing his decidedly bland breakfast--and wincing from headaches caused by the too-cold water, Mal'lik took the opportunity to slip a couple of flat rocks into Zenith's pack. He had started doing so at the beginning of their trip, to teach his Apprentice the value of being able to continue a trek despite a heavy load . . . and his Apprentice had yet to catch on. The bland meals were designed so they did not detract from the lesson and the beauty of nature.

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!

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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Thu Jun 24, 2010 8:22 pm

Joint Posts! Jarrax and Selma!

Jarrax slowly turned over, getting to his feet as Selma slid to the ground. "Now look what I have to do!" He complained good-naturedly. "I have to go get a shower to wash all the sand out of my fur--and THEN I have to brush it, because if I don't, it'll get all matted and tangled!" He grinned. "You know, for a Jedi, you sure make me work a lot. How about a sparring match after my post-ocean shower? If you're that good at the cloaking skill, I think you'll have improved at combat too."

Rippled giggles could be heard from Selma as she slid to the ground. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them as she looked up at the sand pelted fur coat of her Master. As much as she wanted to be frustrated that he caught on, she couldn't help but laugh. "I so thought I had you that time!"

At his comment on how much work she made him do she scoffed, "Your coat needed a good brushing anyway, I just gave you the excuse to actually take the time to do so." She teased sticking her tongue out at him before rolling backwards over her shoulder to a standing position.

"And I'm up for sparring, just no biting this time." She said absentmindedly rubbing the her forearm from where he had bitten her last time. Luckily he was just nipping, but still.

Jarrax laughed again as he turned toward the beach house, padding through the sand. His Apprentice vanished into the female changing room, and he into the male changing room. Jarrax quickly stripped, washed his fur thoroughly, brushed his fur, and then put on a fresh pair of pants, throwing the loincloth in a pack. Jarrax finished brushing his fur, smoothing down the fur along his arms, but he couldn't QUITE reach that spot in the middle of his back with the brush. It felt out of place. He sighed. Maybe Selma would be kind enough to brush that for him.

Taking his tunic and belt over one arm, and his equipment and laundry in a shoulder pack, Jarrax walked out of the beach house and strolled over to their landspeeder. Leaning against the side, Jarrax blinked in the bright sun. "This would be a good day for a tan . . . if I could get one. Another strike against fur--but it has SO MANY benefits. Oh well. Where IS that Apprentice of mine?" He considered searching for her presence, but decided against it. She would be out when she got out--whenever that would be.

Selma walked out of the female quarters, her hair still damp though this time it was from washing it rather than sweat. It was also out of its usual ponytail. Her blond locks hug around her shoulders brushing the freckle speckled skin. She was wearing a new tank top and another pair of shorts, her utility belt slung across her torso and a bag on her shoulder carrying other various items. Her bare feet padded against the sand and she greeted Jarrax at their landspeeder with a roll of her eyes as she realized he missed a huge spot on his back. Slinging her stuff in the vehicle she waved him over with an exaggerated sigh, “Come here, big guy.” Motioning him over to her so she could get to him. She held out her hand for his brush and looked him over.

Without a word, but with several low grumbles, Jarrax handed her his brush. She shook her head, he didn’t fool her. She knew he loved this. Gently she brushed out the fur on his back, careful to not pull any of it out.

“You know you are more upkeep than a female human.” She joked lovingly. Selma grinned and took a deep breath. They both smelled a lot better after their showers and she felt more relaxed. Though it wouldn’t last long if she was to spar with him later. At the sudden thought, her mind began to spin through move after move to see if she could find a new one to pull on him, or one that she knew needed work.

After brushing him out she patted him on the back and rubbed a certain spot between his shoulder blades. Then hopped into the landspeeder and waited for Jarrax to climb in and take them back to his home.

As they headed there, her mind raced and she remained quiet as she thought about things she needed to work on. Like her cloaking obviously. She might have laughed along with Jarrax, but deep down it slightly bugged her it hadn’t worked. She should have this technique down by now! Selma chewed on the inside of her cheek as she remained lost in her thought.

----

Jarrax kept a disappointed look on his face as he stood up, padded over to Selma, and sat on the bench by the beach house. The disappointment was purely for show--and he knew that she knew that. The brushing would be absolute bliss.

Among Leonines, activities like brushing were high on the list of carefully guarded activities, because of the intense connection between brushing, fur, and mental state. Brush a Leonine wrong, and one could very literally make him grumpy or depressed for the rest of the day. Worse yet, if one were to cause PAIN to a Leonine during brushing, one could cause them to disassociate from such an important social activity. This could result in lack of personal care, loneliness, irritability, and even more serious health complications. On the other hand, if one brushed a Leonine RIGHT, it would be extremely hard to get him off Cloud 9 for the rest of the day. Jarrax only allowed Selma to brush him because he had personally shown her the perfect method. As long as she did that, she couldn't go wrong.

Selma started brushing Jarrax's shoulders and back, the rough brush catching loose fur and stimulating more fur. It moved of its own accord as the brushing stimulated involuntary muscle ripples. His tail twitched sharply every few seconds, sometimes relaxing, sometimes curling, sometimes standing straight. Jarrax didn't care.

“You know you are more upkeep than a female human.”

Jarrax said nothing, only groaning, with a slight half-growl coming from his throat. His eyes were glazed over, tongue lolling slowly. He felt rather limp. The bliss continued for eternity it seemed, but gradually tapered off. Selma patted him on the back, waking him from his stupor, but then immediately rubbed THAT spot on his back. She found it. Jarrax leaned over involuntarily, about to fall over because that rubbing felt so good. He felt a steadily building vibration, and knew it was his right hindpaw picking up in tempo.

Sadly, Selma stopped rubbing his shoulder blades, and gradually he woke up. She was already headed to the landspeeder. That was another thing: always let a Leonine wake up from a brushing at their own pace. Selma was learning well--and she was GOOD. He'd have to recommend her to the other Leonines in his clan. He slowly stood and stretched, yawning a HUGE Leonine yawn, muscles rippling. Jarrax threw on his tunic and belted it down, then hopped in the landspeeder and began the drive to his Clan homeland.

----

Joint Posts! Mal'lik and Zenith!

Their guide, a Master by the name of Goram Halkien, had disappeared into the forest a week earlier. He had decided to devote his life to teaching Jedi how to survive, and he was very good at it. This trip was primarily for Zenith's benefit and instruction. Mal'lik got to return to his homeworld, so that was a plus, but he also had to teach his Apprentice how to track quarry.

Mal'lik stood, shouldered his pack, and began to pad off on the trail. "Zenith! If you don't want to track Master Halkien by yourself, I suggest you HURRY!" He called back cheerily. Sooner or later his Apprentice's mood would sour, especially as Mal'lik made things tough for him. IT was all part of the plan. Zenith had to learn how to be patient, how to accept or avoid failures and frustrations instead of trying to bull his way through every situation. He needed to use logic, his intellect, to THINK like his quarry. THEN he would be successful at tracking, grown in his understanding of himself and the Force . . . and become a capable survivalist to boot.

Zenith had eaten his bland breakfast in silence, choking it down despite the fact that it tasted like rubber. It did the job of energizing though, and he knew that he would begin feeling the effects in a hour or two. Right now, though, he was tired and grumpy, and wishing he were back at the Temple with electricity, good food, and running water. He wasn't sure what his master was hoping to teach him with this, but, as a faithful Padawan, he was going along with the lessons.

When Mal'lik announced that he would have to track Master Halkien alone if he didn't hurry up, he sprung to his feet and put on his pack (which felt heavier and heavier as the trip had gone along...) and fell into line behind Mal'lik. On the positive side, all this hiking was building some muscle. And the Savannah One wilderness WAS quite beautiful. He waited for instruction from his master, eager to get going.

As the pair padded even farther into the forest, Mal'lik began his lesson. "Zenith, when you are tracking something--anything--you must use every sense and resource available. For humans, the key to tracking is observation and the Force. Feel the Force for currents of Master Halkien's passing. He will have hidden himself well, but not erased his trail completely. Augment what you learn from the Force with physical clues--but trust the Force over those clues."

A few strides later, Mal'lik stopped and pointed to a small indentation in the grass. "See there? Halkien was careful, but he may have let this slip--or it may have been intentional. Its up to you to decide. I can tell you that it was his left heel, and he was putting his weight on the outer edge at that moment. He's wearing size 10 Jedi field boots, with the duragrip diamond-pattern soles. This isn't too fresh . . . maybe two days. See, you can look at the blades of grass and tell how much time has passed since they were crushed. We're getting close--only a couple of days behind him. Look for things like bent branches, boot or walking staff imprints. If you walk by a thorn bush, look for pieces of Jedi robes. It will be tough, but rewarding. I specifically asked him not to go easy on you. Now . . . go get him!"

Zenith felt a small wave of dread flush over him. Although he had listened to Mal'lik's tips carefully, he was beginning to doubt his abilities. He was tracking someone who was a master of the outdoors, after all. To Zenith, who was more at home in the hanger working on ships, or in the cockpit of a starfighter, tracking was something that didn't come naturally. He WAS very strong in the Force, however, which gave him a slight advantage. Although the Force currents were faint, Zenith was able to read them, much to his encouragement.

When they approached the footprint and Mal'lik explained how recent it was, Zenith's hopes soared. They were getting closer! They continued the trek onward, and Zenith had a bit of a spring to his step. They came across a few clues on the way, as Zenith had been carefully observing his surroundings. The first clue were a few small imprints in the ground. When Zenith examined them more closely, he realized that the space in between them was similar. "This must be where his walking staff has hit the ground as he's walked onward... the tracks lead this way, but then stop..." his voice turned disappointed as he realized that the prints stopped, but he was encouraged that he had a lead that they were going the right direction.

The next clue Zenith found was when he closely inspected some thorns, as Mal'lik has suggested. He found a small piece of cloth, which seemed to be very similar to that of a Jedi robe. He smiled. "Your advice is paying off, Master!" He noted with a smile as they continued on.

After a few more hours of walking, however, Zenith's cheer had begun to disappear. They had been walking for hours, and the trek had not gotten any easier. Zenith's feet hurt quite badly, his legs were tired, and he was starting to miss the comforts of home. He trudged on, however, determined not to let Master Mal'lik down. They soon came to a work in the trial, however. Zenith observed that one path went on for quite awhile, leading into the mountains. Left led down into the meadows.

Zenith stood for a moment, observing the choices. He wasn't sure what to do. He turned to Mal'lik. "What would you suggest, my master?"

"Hmmm . . . ." Mal'lik surveyed the choice. One grassy path that led down into a high-growth meadow, with flowers and plants as tall as his waist. A gradually rockier path that led up into the Taiga. Both could be dangerous--and both had potential clues. There was a smattering of crushed grasses near the start of the lower trail, and some scraped moss on a rock near the upper trail. Mal'lik decided to let his Padawan choose. "Zenith . . . all I will tell you is to use your skills. Use what you know, and then choose. Do, or do not. There is no try, as Master Yoda says."

Zenith paced for a moment, unsure of the choice to make. The path into the meadow certainly seemed easier. An upward climb in the mountains would be torture... but is that not what Master Halkien would do? Take the harder path? Zenith had made up his mind. "Very well. Let us go into the mountains." He began the trek up the mountain trail, intently searching for more signs.

As the hours had drawn on, however, Zenith began to grow weary, and slightly regret his choice. The mountains were a hard climb, and the temperature had dropped considerably. Zenith groaned when a light snow began to fall. He hadn't dressed for winter! He was determined to go on, however, and even more determined when he saw a small pile of rocks. They looked out of place. Looking up, he saw what he assumed were once their resting place. "Perahps Master Halkien knocked these from the cliff as he climbed! We may be close!!" Zenith put aside his weariness and began a sprint, hoping that perhaps their search was coming to a close.

Mal'lik smiled as his Apprentice caught the excitement of the hunt, moving faster and faster up the mountainside. His paws caught the rock effortlessly, and he easily kept up with his Apprentice. As Zenith took another dozen steps though, Mal'lik saw what looked like a too-casual pile of brush. The next second, his danger sense went on full alert. "ZENITH! STOP! NOW!" Mal'lik barked furiously. An instant before he stepped into the brush, Zenith skidded to a halt, gravel skipping into the brush. Mere seconds later, huge, wickedly sharp metal jaws snapped close with a thunderous CLANK! Mal'lik paled beneath his fur as he saw how close Zenith had come to being snapped in half.

Zenith looked like a sheet, and shivered slightly at his narrowly-avoided fate. "What . . . what IS that thing? It looks like a TRAP of some sort!"

Mal'lik shook his head in agreement. "Yes Zenith . . . it is a trap. One set for much larger prey than us . . . but Leonines hardly EVER use this sort of trap. We only use it if . . . oh no . . . ."

Zenith didn't particularly like the idea of his master--especially a Leonine and Jedi Guardian saying "oh no". "Master, what is it?" he asked quietly.

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!

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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Thu Jun 24, 2010 9:39 pm

Jarrax and Selma

The Volk Clan was situated in the actual savanna of Savannah One, centered on their ancient territorial grounds. Their main village was a near-mystical mix of modern buildings, technology, weapons, vehicles, ancient tribal methods, ceremonies, councils, protocol, and etiquette.

Jarrax would have to give his apprentice a quick lesson on protocol before they reached his ancestral home. A breach of etiquette there could put her on the outs with the entire clan--no matter HOW good of a brushing partner she was.

-----

As they got close Selma let her mind drift from her current thoughts of training and became curious about her Master’s Clan. She looked over at the lovable beast and asked him.

“So I’m sure there are some things I need to know, you wanna explain?” She grinned. “Or shall I be just wing it and get shunned?”

Jarrax laughed slightly at her question. "No Selma, I think you'd better learn basic etiquette! First things first: the Introduction. When we reach the village, the first important person you'll meet is the Tribal Elder, T'sikla Brightclaw. He is very old, very wise, and carries a lot of influence in the village--sometimes close to an absolute monarchy. He is kind, but also cunning. I will take you to the Great Hall and introduce myself first, then you. All you need to do is step forward, state your name and relationship to myself, and wait. You may address T'sikla as "Elder", "Honored One", or even "Sir" in a pinch, and answer any questions he may ask. He may wish to associate your name with your face by scenting the air around you. Don't be alarmed at this. Many Leonines, especially older ones, find scent to be a far better marker than a name alone."

Jarrax thought for a moment, consolidating the most important rules of etiquette. "Leonines don't mind off-worlders visiting our villages, and we realize that off-worlders don't know many of the inter-society rules we observe among ourselves. We try to be lenient, and either do not require most protocol, or overlook small blunders. There are a FEW things you need to know though. If you mess up TOO bad, you could be escorted out of the village, and me with you. I would allowed back sometime, but not you. I don't want that to happen, so listen up."

Jarrax cleared his throat and continued with a slight growl. "Rule One: Most Leonines either understand or speak Basic--usually both. Please be polite when spoken to, and greet Leonines nicely. If you don't, it will reflect on me. When greeting, usually a Leonine will speak first, to honor the off-worlder. No special protocol is needed, other than a polite and gracious return greeting."

"Rule Two: Leonine society is very honor-centric, so you may visit merchants and restaurants freely without fear of fraud or scams. There are a few places that will haggle on prices. Those shops I will show you. Do not haggle in any other shops--it is a personal affront to the business owner, and reflects on MY reputation as well as yours. As an additional note, the village is largely crime-free, so that's one less worry."

"Rule Three: We Leonines are a social lot, but we also value our privacy. It is more than likely that you will be invited into a home for a chat, or perhaps afternoon tea. You may politely refuse and the host will not take offense, or you may freely accept, whichever you like. However DO NOT enter any private dwelling without permission--it is a grave insult, and the homeowner, if they are home, will have every right to forcibly oust you. I cannot interfere in whatever they wish to do, so I suggest you not get into that situation. Don't even do that if the door is open and the dwelling empty." Jarrax shot her a knowing look--for his Padawan was insatiably curious, it seemed.

"Rule Four: Feel free to interact with any of the cubs or older adolescents you see. The younger ones are insatiably curious--and they show it. The older ones are just as curious--though they try to hide that behind a veil of indifference or activity. A lot of the adolescents nearly idolize Jedi--in fact, I have somewhat of a fan club among the tweens and teens. I'm sure they'll soak up every drop of any story you choose to tell them--just leave any embarrassing parts about me out of it." Jarrax grimaced as he remembered some of the more embarrassing stories.

"You may see some adolescent males sporting tattoos, facial markings, or body paint--they are preparing for the Rite of Ascension, where they become full-fledged members of the village. They may be somewhat arrogant--feeling their oats possibly--and very well could challenge you to a duel. They will want to beat a Jedi--especially one their size--and brag to their friends. Feel free to take them up on it, and even kick their cans--but be a good sport about it. They will be honor-bound to accept defeat graciously, so I don't anticipate anything getting out of hand. Most will appreciate fighting a Jedi--but don't underestimate them. Ascending Leonines are skilled fighters, even at their age." Jarrax smiled, thinking of himself as an Ascending Leonine. That had been one day back home with his family, out from under the rules of the Order, and he had been SO cocky. Yoda would have turned him into a rug if the Master had known.

"Finally: if you see anything you can afford, feel free to buy it. You will be welcome in my family's dwelling, since you are my charge. If any of the cubs or adolescents want to take you out on the savanna or another place, let me know first, but they usually stay in safe places. Remember: besides these rules of etiquette, this is supposed to be FUN! If I'm not in uniform, don't stand on ceremony! Relax and enjoy yourself! When we get settled in, we can spar and then go for a sight-seeing trip or something!"

Jarrax settled in for the drive--which wasn't too long, since their speeder was fairly fast. "So, any questions? Got anything you want to talk about? Perhaps . . . combat techniques?"

She listened carefully and took in everything, memorizing it. She did not want to disgrace her Master in ANY way. When he mentioned that she should not—well, could not—go into houses uninvited no matter how curious she was, she giggled slightly under her breath.

When he asked if she had any questions she thought for a moment before speaking.
“Well, can I go into the house uninvited if something looks to be wrong? Or should I go get the nearest Leonine?
And as for combat questions…Why didn’t my cloaking work this morning?” She asked, wanting any advice that would help her succeed.

"Tha'ts a good question Selma. Normally I would say yes, go investigate if something looks or feels wrong. However, in this case, it should feel wrong to a Leonine, not just an off-worlder--even a JEDI off-worlder. You would be better off getting a Leonine and asking them." Jarrax howled softly with laughter as she mentioned her cloaking technique. "Selma, your cloaking technique was GREAT--except for one thing: you were excited. You controlled your emotions well, and I could barely sense them for that brief second, but it was enough. I had you pinpointed--plus I could smell you. I think you would have fooled anyone else. Keep practicing and you'll get better."

Jarrax pointed to an upcoming rock marker, seemingly sitting out in the middle of the green savanna. "That's one marker for my tribe's territory--we own the land from here all the way to the rainforests in the South." Jarrax cut their speed down and retracted the canopy. Wind rushed by them, flapping their clothes and ruffling his fur. "Listen!" He said. Carried on the wind, and steadily growing louder, multiple intricate patterns of howls rode through the sky. "Those are the border guards for the territory, announcing the arrival of a visitor." Jarrax put the canopy back up, and soon gestured to a steadily growing silver disk in the distance.

"That disk is the garage, maintenance bay, and impound lot for all vehicles out here. Everyone goes by paw or pack animal past that location." Soon they drew near the lot, and Jarrax slowed down, being directed to an empty berth by the Lot Director. Two burly guards met him and Selma as they disembarked. The guards were stoic at first, but lost their composure slightly when they recognized Jarrax. Jarrax took a particular stance and growled something in Leonine, to which the guards responded with an instant salute. Jarrax saluted them back, and the guards loped off to the village in the distance. "Come now Padawan--let's take our things and get settled in!" Jarrax hefted his spartan clothing packs and started padding across the cool grass to the village. As they walked, Jarrax sniffed the air, excited to be back home. "I'm glad we came when we did Selma--its Spring now, the best season for being outdoors! It won't be too hot, nor too cold--in fact, it may just be a tad rainy or windy instead!" It felt so GOOD to be home! After all these long years, Jarrax felt like a cub again!

Minutes later . . . .

The village sprawled before them. Perhaps the mere word "village wasn't right. There were wooden buildings, but there were also modern transparisteel and durasteel structures. Some shops were small, others larger. A long wooden meeting hall, dark brown and stained with age, took up the center of town. It was a strange amalgam of the ancient and modern. Just about the only things that were mostly uniform were the dwellings. For the most part, they were cozy, offering just enough space to live and play. The outside of each dwelling looked to be made of some sort of tan clay/soil mix, with perpetually green thatched roofs. There were no backyards--the entire savanna was the backyard--and various Leonines walked the streets, laughing, smiling and hurrying, among a dozen other things. Cubs played in houses, and the adolescents could be seen just outside the town.

Jarrax wasted no time getting to the meeting hall. He walked in quietly and set his packs down by the large, yet simple double doors, motioning for Selma to do the same. Slowly, he padded noiselessly into the dim meeting hall, and made out a figure sitting in a simple chair at the end of the room. It was T'sikla. If Jarrax was big and intimidating, T'sikla was twice that, even sitting down. Even in the dim phosflea lights, the Elder's fur shone radiantly, like quicksilver. He was old--ages old--and his mane was fully developed, running down over his shoulders in a lush curtain. He sniffed the air, deep draughts that chuffed like wind in the enclosed space. T'sikla stood up and looked straight at Jarrax--or rather straight THROUGH Jarrax. He took a couple of steps forward, body like etched stone flowing effortlessly, and looked past Jarrax as he spoke.

"Jarrax Volk . . . welcome back Gem'nii." His voice rumbled like thunder--almost too low to comprehend. "You smell like a Jedi . . . I trust you have not forgotten the ways of our people?"

Jarrax was confused as the Elder stared past him while speaking. T'sikla's eyes were milky white. It took him a second to realize that T'sikla was blind. Heartache at the realization swept through him, and he couldn't quite keep the sniffle or crack out of his voice as he replied. "Thank you Elder . . . ." In deference to the old traditions, Jarrax whipped his tunic off and knelt respectfully. "My heart still burns with the flame of the warrior, Honored One." he declared passionately.

T'sikla chuckled slowly, his voice sounding like low booms in the chamber. He reached out and bade Jarrax to stand up once more, embracing him in a brief hug. "Yes Jarrax, always the fiery one you were. I can tell you are also sad on what should be a joyous occasion. Don't be. The loss of my eyesight has done little to impact my way of life. You of all Leonines should know that." His voice was rich with a wholesome humor.

"But your vigor! You are too young for--yes . . . Elder." Jarrax had interrupted, but acknowledged his Elder's reprimand reluctantly.

T'sikla shook his silvery mane and continued. "Now . . . we have another visitor. Who have you brought to our village Jarrax? Perhaps a student of yours? It's definitely not Mal'lik--though he's not far off. You two are never far apart."

Jarrax stepped to the side, moving out of Selma's way. "My Elder, may I present Selma Lundor, Jedi Padawan, and my Apprentice."

T'sikla smiled slowly, and waved her forward. "Step forward, Selma Lundor. Please introduce yourself and tell me a little about yourself--and how you met one of our village's greatest warriors. Jarrax and his brother are discerning Masters. You must be someone VERY special if Jarrax picked you."

----

Mal'lik and Zenith

Mal'lik quickly glanced around, looking in all directions . . . and found what he had hoped to never find. A mammoth cave. He turned to Zenith, alarm evident in his every movement, ears pinned flat in . . . fear. "Zenith, you need to get out of here. NOW! Run back the way we came, and don't look back! You must HURRY! Your life depends on it!"

Zenith was aghast. Leave his Master? WHY? "But, Master Mal'lik--"

Mal'lik snarled at him in anger. "I SAID NOW ZENITH! There's a Dor'in Cave--AAARRHHH!!" Mal'lik's voice was cut off in an anguished howl as a giant paw, fully the size of Mal'lik himself caught him and sent him flying into a tree, where he landed with a pained yelp. Mind half-conscious, Mal'lik saw Zenith gasp in horror at the colossal Cave Bear towering over him.

The bear, fully 2,000 pounds, and built like a boulder opened its mouth, sword-sized fangs dripping saliva, and let loose a roar that dwarfed anything a Leonine could produce. There was a reason why Leonines never hunted Dor'in on their own--and why they had a special name for old, bold, and vicious specimens such as this: Bloodclaws. Many a Leonine had been killed after being ambushed or happening upon a Bloodclaw. They were considered dangerous to Leonine society--and they were never allowed to live.

Zenith didn't waste any time. He took off, using the Force to enhance his speed--but the bear just followed, rushing down the mountainside like a freight train.

Zenith ran as fast as he possibly could, his legs burning, but he continued the sprint. The Force assited his speed, but he felt weighed down... something felt wrong with his backpack. Zenith needed to think fast, or he would end up as a bear snack!

A thought hit him. His blaster pistol! He strained to reach into his pack, attempting to find a way to open it. He finally succeeded, surprised when rocks began to fall out. How had they gotten there? Had it been his master's doing? Zenith didn't have time to dwell on this. He was only relieved to find that the weight bogging him had lightened up.

Now. Where was that blaster?

His finger felt something metallic behind at its tip. Using the Force to help, he pulled out his S-5 heavy blaster pistol, which he had picked up on a trip to Naboo. It had served him well before... he could only hope it would help here.

He turned, firing a few quick shots behind him as he ran. He was slightly concerned and disappointed to find that the shots had little affect on this old, tough bear, and only seemed to increase the beast's rage, much to Zenith's dismay. He turned once more, going for a shot to the bear's face. Either by amazing skill or pure luck, he managed to hit the brute in the eye. The brute roared a painful roar, slowing its pace momentarily. Zenith was beginning to feel encouraged, now considering the possibility that he might actually LIVE through this situation.

Well. That is, until Zenith found his feet flying out from under him, and his face hit the ground.

Zenith had tripped.

On a rock.

If it hadn't been for the fear of the situation, Zenith would have been extremely embarrassed. In this case, however, he was more concerned for his life. He rolled, attempting to get back to his feet, but he the huge bear was now caught up to him, ready for the killing strike!

Through syrupy thoughts, Mal'lik saw the bear run after Zenith. He gingerly felt the back of his skull. There was a thick knot, and his vision swam unsteadily. Mal'lik struggled to his paws, swaying dizzily. Blood dripped from his muzzle where the bear's claws had caught him across the face. "YAOW!" he yelped, recoiling from the touch of his paws on the sensitive cuts. "Zenith . . . ." he moaned. He probably had a concussion, maybe some bruised ribs, and his body hurt, but right now he couldn't dwell on that. Zenith would most likely be killed if he didn't at least try to save him.

Mal'lik took one halting step, then another, opening himself to the Force as he did so. Gradually, his movements became easier as the Force began to sweep through his body, washing away pains, energizing his body, and refreshing his mind. He could see clearly, think clearly, and move easily. But all this came at a price.

Mal'lik started to run, augmenting his speed with the Force. By now, the Force was raging through him, sustaining him and devouring him. He felt better than he had in his entire life--except for the fire within him that was slowly vaporizing his cells. A small warning dingled in the back of his mind--telling him that this level of power wasn't safe. Mal'lik ignored it; the one overriding concern was the life of his Padawan.

He dropped to all fours, increasing his speed even more. Mal'lik didn't notice the trees flying past, or the rocks whipping by under his paws. All he concentrated on was that bear, and the small figure in front. He heard a blaster shot ring out, and a flash of red light hit the bear. His heart sank. That wouldn't stop a Bloodclaw. Nothing handheld like that would ever stop a Bloodclaw. The bear slowed, and then just charged faster.

A thousand different thoughts rang through his brain. Advice from the Elders and Warriors about Dor'in Cave Bears. Rule One: Don't face them at all unless you have to. Rule Two: Don't face them alone--that's what the pack brethren are for. Rule Three: Don't try anything stupid or heroic. Rule Four: Don't stop moving. In the case of a Bloodclaw, the Elders and Warriors had only offered one piece of advice: Run. Oh, Mal'lik would run alright--TOWARD the Bloodclaw. Wait until Jarrax heard about this--if he survived. Jarrax would think he was completely insane. In fact, Jarrax could probably feel every bit of what Mal'lik was feeling right now. Mal'lik hoped he was sitting down.

Mal'lik would forever swear that his heart stopped in the next moment. As if in slow-motion, he saw Zenith try to run. He saw the rock with crystal clarity. Zenith hit the rock, throwing him off-balance and landing face-down in the dirt! Mal'lik could see the terror in his Padawan's eyes, but then the calm acceptance of his fate--just like a Jedi. The bear reared up, massive jaws slavering, into a colossal, thickly muscled tower of organic durasteel! Mal'lik screamed, ZENITH!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! It came out more like "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!", such was his fury!

A BLACK FLASH! GLISTENING FANGS! SLASHING CLAWS! DEAFENING ROARS! GLITTERING RED EYES! With his last words distorted by instinctive, animalistic rage,Mal'lik LEAPED the last forty feet to the bear! Like a furry proton torpedo, he exploded into action when his claws latched onto the bear's shoulder! A flurry of well-placed slashes, and the bear's descending paw was in ribbons! Mal'lik dug his claws into the bear as it roared, angrily trying to shake him off, rearing back like a crazed nerf! His claws held fast though, and Mal'lik instinctively made his way to the back of the neck--the best place for a killing strike. With a raging snarl, Mal'lik opened his muzzle wide, revealing rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, and sank those instruments of death into the bear's neck--straight to the bone.

The pulsing lifeblood enraged the primal instinct within Mal'lik as the bear tossed him to and fro. He hung on doggedly, for THIS was the life of the predator--kill or be killed, dancing the eternal dance of death--and life. THIS was what it meant to fight for someone he loved, to feel the crunch of the enemy's bones, and the gush of his lifeblood spraying onto the ground. Somewhere, in the deepest part of his mind, Mal'lik hoped his Padawan was taking advantage of this, not stupidly hanging around to see the show.

Zenith saw his life flash before his eyes. He thought he was dead. He thought it was all over. He was resigned to his fate, of course. A Jedi was ready for these things.

However, his death did not come.

He saw his master from the corner of his eye. The speed at which Mal'lik moved astounded him. The bear had absolutely no clue what was happening, giving Zenith a chance to scurry away.

Now, as Mal'lik engaged the bear, Zenith was faced with a choice. One side of him was telling him that the fight was out of his league, and that there was no way he could help his master. The other side, however, wanted to try to help. He couldn't just leave his master to fight this beast!

As Zenith approached, he caught a look in Mal'lik eye. The look was clear. It said, "STAY AWAY". Zenith couldn't disobey instruction... he backed away slowly, then turned and ran. Surely there was somewhere safe to go, where he could still observe the fight.

Zenith looked up, and saw the perfect place.

There was a cliff side right above where the fight was. If Zenith could get up there, he could be safe, but still close enough to watch and help if it were needed. Aiming his blaster at the ledge, he fired the grappling hook, which latched onto the top of the ledge. At the click of a switch, the gun began to pull Zenith up, until he was resting safely on the cliff side.

And the Jedi masters think blasters are useless... Zenith thought with a smirk. He then turned to observe the battle from his safe perch, hoping and praying that his master would come through.

Mal'lik growled viciously as the Cave Bear roared in pain, trying to swat the annoying mammal on its back. From his vantage point--convulsive though it was--Mal'lik could see Zenith ascending the side of a cliff. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he finally relaxed. "Good job Zenith . . . ." That moment of inattention cost him. As the bear whipped around violently in circles, its other paw--the one that worked--reached up and finally got him! Mal'lik was forced to let go as his jaws opened in a thunderous roar of pain! The bear tore him free, raking claws down his shoulder and torso and tearing ribbons of flesh from Mal'lik's body!

The fiery shock jolted Mal'lik from his Blood-Haze as he flew through the air, whimpering with pain! He landed on a rocky outcropping, the hard landing almost making him scream! Mal'lik tried to gather the Force, but he was spent, his fur tinged with gray. He gave one more tremendous effort as the bear came back around with murderous intent evident in its eyes! The Force responded one more time as Mal'lik made another giant leap, landing hard on the side of the cliff face, about halfway up. Blood ran down his paws, making every surface red and slippery. Mal'lik's claws dug in, and his tortured muscles quivered, almost exhausted. The Dor'in Cave Bear shambled toward the Jedi on the cliff, who was within easy reach. Blood poured from the horrific wound in the back of the bear's neck and one lacerated paw, plus long, claw-like gash marks in its back. All it wanted was to kill the one who had hurt it--viciously.

Mal'lik looked up, only to see Zenith peering down at him, eyes wide in horror. Now their positions were reversed, and Mal'lik was going to be killed. "Zenith . . . help . . . me!" Mal'lik whispered, barely holding on. Mal'lik weighed all of 350 pounds--a heavy weight for one so young in the Force, but Zenith could do it. He HAD to. "Size . . . matters . . . not . . . Zenith. Trust the . . . trust the Force." Mal'lik was almost at the end of his strength, sapped prematurely by his intense need earlier. Any second now, he expected to feel the vicious, crushing jaws of the bear ripping into him, ending his life. Even so . . . Mal'lik was at peace--like a Jedi.

Zenith thought that the fight was going well. He even thought that Mal'lik had the upper hand, and that his master had the beast whipped. He gasped in horror, however, as the bear tore his master from it's back, he gasped. He immediately felt guilt. "It's because I distracted him..." Zenith mumbled. "It's my fault..." he continued watching. He was clear that the swipe had affected his master. He saw his bleeding body, and immediately filled with worry and fear. The bear was approaching at a fast pace, however. This couldn't be his master's end! He had to get up!

"Zenith . . . help . . . me! Size . . . matters . . . not . . . Zenith. Trust the . . . trust the Force."

Zenith felt panic overtake him. His master was counting on him! He couldn't let Mal'lik down! But... what if he failed?! There was no time for such worry. Zenith stretched out his hand, reaching out with the Force to pull his master up to him. Slowly, MUCH too slowly, the body began to rise. The bear was not waiting, however. It was running, scrambling to get up the cliff, and to Mal'lik beaten and bloody body. Zenith felt his concentration slipping. Fear was ungulfing his mind. He didn't know what to do. He could not lift the body fast enough...

On impulse, Zenith dropped Mal'lik body back down to the ground and jumped from the ledge he was on, sliding down to ground-level, right in front of his master. Zenith was all that was separating the brute from his quarry. The bear was raising its paw, ready to swipe Zenith out of the way. Zenith felt fear overtake him. His mind stopped functioning. Nothing made sense anymore. He could only feel terror. Heart-wrenching terror.

The next thing Zenith knew, he felt his hands reaching forward. A sudden burst of light blinded him. Huge blue bolts of lightning started shooting from his fingers, blasting the bear at full power! Zenith was shocked. He had no idea what to think. He only knew that this lightning he was somehow conjuring was the only thing keeping him and his master alive, as the bear was roaring and howling as the burning lightning scorched its already severe wounds. The bolts continued as the bear began to back away, the bolts of lightning chasing after it. The beast ran, urgently seeking to get out of the range of the sting of Zenith's lightning. Finally, it succeeded, and began running for the forest. It did not leave a trail of blood though, as its wounds had been scorched to the point where the blood had coagulated.

The bolts of lightning disappeared, and Zenith fell exhausted on the rock next to his master. He was confused, but over all, drained. It felt like all of his Force energy had suddenly been pulled from his body through those bolts of lightning. His mind screamed for him to stay conscious. His master needed him. But his vision was beginning to swim. He attempted to speak, but words would not come.

Then, everything went black.

Mal'lik looked over dazedly as his Apprentice collapsed. His heart broke for Zenith. Zenith had only wanted to save HIM, and now he would surely have questions. The bolts of lightning were instantly familiar to Mal'lik, and he wished his Apprentice had never been forced to the point of such fear. Zenith's lightning had been wildly powerful, but also wildly aimed--spread out, not concentrated. Mal'lik doubted it had done much to the bear, but it HAD driven the beast off.

Mal'lik couldn't move, and he was feeling ever heavier. He raised one working paw and gestured. An emergency transponder flew from his pack and settled into his paw. He flicked the cover and pressed the button, which started to blink and beep steadily, sending out a tracking signal. The transponder was linked directly to the Forest Service. Some time soon, the Service would send a medical shuttle. Mal'lik hoped they could last that long. Using the last of his concentration, Mal'lik Force-pulled his Apprentice closer, putting an arm around Zenith to keep him from falling off the cliff. Then he slowly faded into unconsciousness.

----

A bright white and red shuttle streaked over the treetops, then came around and hovered above the cliff. Medical personnel and armed soldiers descended via rappelling cables, with supplies being lowered via tractor beam.

They rushed over to the torn Leonine and his battered companion. A burly Leonine with brown fur quickly retrieved a scanner from his pack as three other female Leonines started assessing Mal'lik and Zenith. The armed guards--HUGE Leonines in heavy armor--took one look at the scene and immediately started looking for trouble. They didn't want a Bloodclaw sneaking up on the medical team at all.

"Doctor, are they still alive?" A lilting voice breezed through the mountain air.

"Yes they are, but only barely. The human will make it, but the Leonine . . . I'm not so sure. He looks older, so maybe he got caught by surprise and this human tried to help him. The Leonine has slashes from . . . I think it was a Cave Bear!" No other land mammal on Savannah One was so large and vicious.

"The human has a lot of mottled bruising and some nasty cuts, plus the scanner is registering a dangerous dip in his electrolyte levels. We'll have to get him on a drip pronto." The doctor rattled off a list of instructions, being followed to the letter by the nurses.

"DOCTOR!" One of the guards spoke sharply. "Look at THESE!" The guard had been rummaging through their packs, trying to find any identification, and had found two silver cylinders in each pack, plus a couple of blasters and a vibroblade. He held up the cylinders with a look of wonder--and awe.

The doctor's eyes widened dramatically. "Those--are those what I THINK they are?" The guard nodded solemnly. "As far as I know doctor--I served several when they came to visit."

The doctor whistled appreciatively at his patients, eying them with new-found respect. "JEDI huh? No wonder they survived! The Leonine lost a lot of blood, but if he gave as good as he got, I wouldn't be surprised to see that Bear as a rug in a couple of days. Let's get them bandaged up and airlifted back to the medcenter--they may need more care than I can give them here." A gravelly voice spoke out.

The doctor gestured to one of the guards. "I'll need some help lifting this one," he said, pointing to Mal'lik. "I'm not as young as I used to be--and he looks fairly hefty."

The guard nodded silently and helped the doctor lift Mal'lik onto a repulsor-gurney, while a nurse lifted Zenith onto an identical gurney.

The critically wounded pair was rushed back to the shuttle, and they were on their way.

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!

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Jarrax Volk
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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Tue Jul 06, 2010 12:43 am

Back at the village . . . .

Selma was in the midst of introducing herself to T'sikla, when Jarrax felt a flare in the Mal'lik-place within him. Anger, a blood-haze, the Force burning through him, making Jarrax gasp in pain . . . . Mal'lik was in trouble--and near-death if the Force was that strong in him.

Jarrax tried to run to the door, tried to get to his speeder, but managed to take two steps as a ripping pain lashed his back, making him cry out in anguish! Jarrax heard himself whimpering, felt himself hit the floor . . . then the color drained from the world as T'sikla's face focused briefly, the Leonine roaring something in his native language. Jarrax's vision turned fuzzy . . . then everything went black.

----

T'sikla, for his part, had been by Jarrax's side the minute the Leonine had cried out--no, more like shrieked. He had instantly known this was something Force-related . . . perhaps Gemini-related as well. Jarrax wouldn't respond to his roared questions, and the next person he roared at was his attendant, who loped off to get a speeder.

T'sikla, far from being crippled or incapacitated, scooped up Jarrax in his muscled arms, the latter lolling like a broken doll. Swift strides, enlightened by the Leonine's most powerful sense--smell--and an ancient knowledge of the village, enabled T'sikla to travel quickly to the speeder lot. His attendant waited, having made a call to the Medcenter. T'sikla leaped in, setting Jarrax down, with Selma right beside him, cradling his furry head in her lap.

"Sir, the Medcenter will have staff waiting for our arrival. I told them Jarrax was a Jedi--and they said another Jedi was on his way in as well, a trauma."

T'sikla heaved a sigh. "Mal'lik. The other Jedi is Mal'lik, and he is near-death. Being joined to him, Jarrax is as well."

----

The Medcenter

The medical center, Savannah One Medcenter, was a level 1 trauma center, one made of gleaming transparisteel and duracrete, stocked with the latest in medical technology for a wide variety of species, specialized for Leonines especially, and painted in a rather neutral, soothing shade of blue. The staff here were top-notch, the very best at what they did--saving lives.

Doctor Vimla Ortan, a trauma specialist, met the medical team as they debarked the speeder. He instinctively growled at the sight. The Leonine, whose fur was originally black, was now tinted a gunmetal gray, covered in sheets of darkening blood. One of the nurses had intubated him and was breathing for him, pumping air into his lungs. The other nurse monitored an AED, watching anxiously, while a third performed chest compressions.

Suddenly, the vitals monitor went flat, emitting an eerie wail. The nurses jumped into action. "He's coding again! Bring the crash cart!" Swiftly, Dr. Ortan moved forward, uncapping a syringe of Cardi-Stim and forcefully punching the needle straight through the Leonine's chest, into his still heart. The chemical would act as a stimulant, encouraging his heart to restart, along with the electrical persuasion. Someone had blood-typed the victim and sent the results ahead. One of the nurses grabbed a blood bag, started another IV, then started to refill the Leonine's broken body with blood.

"CLEAR!"

Dr. Ortan raised the paddles, then touched them to the Leonine's chest. He convulsed, then lay still. "No pulse--up the amperage to 300!"

The cart whined as it charged, the nurses working to keep the Leonine alive . . . .

"CLEAR!"

The Leonine jerked again . . . then a pulse began to show on the monitor, with a steady beep.

Dr. Ortan smiled grimly, but he had no time to congratulate himself, as the second victim was being wheeled in. "Start the human on a comprehensive drip!" He motioned to a nurse while remembering the info the medical team had sent ahead. "Let's get to patching those cuts up before he ends up like our other friend here!

_________________
"Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Use your instincts."

"Victims run off and hide. Prey runs off and hides. But I'm not a victim. And I'm not prey. I am the ultimate predator."

http://sites.google.com/site/jarraxvolkswebpage/ My Fursona's Webpage!--See my CTF RP for more info!

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PostSubject: Re: Star Wars: Episode 1 RP   Sat Jul 10, 2010 2:03 am

Zenith lay unconscious as he was wheeled into the medical room and started on the drip. The Leonine doctors worked quickly to take care of his cuts and wounds, which were significantly less severe than his Master's. Although Zenith wasn't in the best of shape, he was in significantly better shape than his master. He was far from critical condition to be sure. As he electrolyte levels began to stabilize, his eyes fluttered open, and words attempted to escape his try mouth.

He looked around the room with slightly blurred vision, attempting to make sense of the site around him. He was surrounding by Leonines. That he could make out. He wasn't completely sure where he was though. He attempted to sit, but felt himself being restrained by a sharp pulling from inside his arm, and something sticky on his chest, connecting him to wires. This irritated him slightly, and he attempted speech again. It came out something like this: "WherrmmmI?"

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