Post by Dire Wolf on Mar 4, 2012 19:04:35 GMT -5
Name: Tyriel (Tier-ee-el)
Race: Miraluka
Age: 65
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180lbs
Appearance:
Tyriel is a moderately tall man, though not quite as handsome as he had been three decades ago. A thick blonde beard covers his face and chin length blonde hair hangs from his head. A simple veil covers the part of his face where his eyes would be if he was human. The look on Ty's face is generally a tired one. Sleep comes rarely to the man as nightmares generally plague his dreams. He has no real scars to speak of though his knuckles are large from continuous breaking. He believes that that tattoos are a juvenile way to express the need to be unique so he has none. When he's not wearing the traditional robes of the Jedi Order, which is rarely, the man dons a more inconspicuous set of civilian attire.
Personality:
Lawful Good
Tyriel is a righteous man who believes that the Dark Side and the Sith are a blight that must be cleansed from the galaxy. He believes that the tolerance and understanding of the previous generations of Jedi have allowed the Sith to gain strength enough to be a serious threat to the republic. Despite this view, Ty isn't without mercy. Any Dark Jedi he finds is given the option to come quietly and face no punishment, so long as they renounce Bogan and convert to Ashla. Any Dark Jedi or Sith that doesn't is either killed, or captured if they can't fight. He is also a believer in the law, and refuses to break it under any circumstance. Any person that does is to be captured and subjected to a jury of his peers.
Tyrbelieves that the Jedi, contrary to what they say, are in fact as much soldiers as they are emissaries and diplomats. Though he is also a man who learns from his own experiences as well as those of others. Which was why he was hesitant to join the blades even after the Sith revealed themselves. The last 400 years of history regarding war had taught him that much. In his view, the Sith teachings are an evil that must be purged no matter what the cost. Those that cling to them should either be turned or killed, with absolutely no exceptions.
At his core, Ty has a guilty heart. He blames himself for Siri's fall, as well as his apprentice's streak of vengeance that ended in his death at his Tyriel's hands. The man has vowed to take absolutely no pity on her whenever she's found. Its not about vengeance, but righting a wrong. Correcting a mistake.
Birth place: Space
Faction: Jedi Order
Rank: High Council Member
Lightsaber: Single Phase (Destroyed, rebuilding)
Color: Yellow
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Soresu - 3
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 9
Telepathic: 3
Body: 7
Sense: 6
Protection: 8
Healing: 5
Destruction: N/A
Specialized Skills:
Force Absorb
Force Deflection
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 1
Force Attunement: +7
Bio:
I.
Tyriel was born on the world of Alpherderies, like many other Miraluka before him. Despite the unity of his people, his parents were little more than rogues that were involved in the buying and selling of illegal goods. The few years of his young life had been spent carefree, despite his parents' occupation. Until the authorities came with a Jedi to lock his parents away for a very long time. There wasn't really much of a fight involved, and after his parents were gone the Jedi offered to take him to be trained as a Jedi. At first he refused the offer, but after being told that it was either the Order or an orphanage, he quickly accepted.
Many light years and one long voyage later, the little boy found himself staring up at the grand structure known as the Jedi Temple. His mouth hung open as he walked the many steps up to the entrance, eyes full of wonder and awe. His imagination ran rampant with thoughts of the kind of greaet beings who made that their home, or furthermore... how they built anything so tall. As it turned out, these 'great beings' looked like normal people, except without much in the way of personality or fashion sense.
After being given a set of dull brown robes, which were surprisingly comfortable by the way, the boy was shuffled off to his first class. It was droll, and he almost instantly found himself bored as a result. Kid Maaziel was a nightmarish thing, and a hasty recipe for disaster. He ended up punching a girl and kicking at her chest for 'looking at him funny.'
A sonic boom was almost heard as he was rushed off to what passed for a counselor in the ranks of the Jedi.
After a long talk, a kindly man decided that it was best if classes were after exercises for the energetic little boy. After exercise was finished, the boy didn't have enough energy for mischief, so the problem was temporarily solved. To supplement this, the instructors continued to talk to him through some of his many issues. Eventually, his aggressive nature was overcome simply because he realized that there was a time and place for everything... and aggression certainly wasn't welcome in the Jedi Order. Once he knew that there was a problem, he began to fix it... though it always lingered at the edge of his consciousness. Bestial urges that begged to be satiated.
Until he began to learn the first form of lightsaber combat.
The application of lightsaber combat was the perfect forum for aggression, and once he learned to control it the boy was a force to be reckoned with. While he wasn't the best duelist in the class, he was far from the worst. The boy never made the same mistake twice, and eventually fought his way up to the top of his class. It was his most advanced discipline for a time. Once he learned how to apply the more physical aspects of the Force, such as body and telekinesis, his interest in lightsabers fell away quickly.
The only other youngling that had t he ability to consistently defeat him also happened to be one of the opposite sex and a Morellian: Siril Rok. She happened to be the same one that he hit a few years before. Her prowess with a lightsaber was second only to her command of the Force. The fact that a girl was the only one who could beat him was one that earned him a considerable amount of chiding. His new found temperance was tested heavily, and nearly failed on more than one occasion. The most vexing thing about Siril was that she rarely made a mistake he could act upon, and never gave him a chance to adapt to her methods.
The furthest he ever got in a spar with Siri was holding her off for a trice before the inevitable.
Tired of the chiding, the defeats, and mildly intrigued by the girl's martial and arcane prowess, he began to do more than just spar with her. After no small amount of cajoling, Tyriel managed to get her to agree to a more informal sparring session. One where the instructors, the other children, and their rivalry was notably absent. Both childern learned quite a bit from each others' style and approach at combat. Eventually, he was invited to join in and other children as well. Though Siri and Maaz always had their private spars. More importantly they became close friends rather than bitter rivals. Tyriel also grew quite close to the two. The man found that Siri was almost completely his opposite; she was quiet, introverted, and downright timid in a social setting. Ironic, considering how ferocious she was in the sparring room.
Over the course of what would be their final year as younglings, they began to spend more time together. Contrary to the Jedi code he grew quite attached to her even though they were only kids. Tyriel thought she felt it as well or hoped at the very least, though he never had the chance to find out. One day Siri never appeared for their informal spar. Then she was absent from their after class study session. It wasn't until the next day that he was told that Siri was picked by a Master. One of the more illustrious Jedi based out of Mustafar, no less.
Tyriel was heartbroken.
The boy didn't have time to mull on his lost love interest, though. He was picked by a master as well, this one based out of the Dantooine enclave. An ancient Morellian by the name of Jahn Lyons had visited the Coruscanti temple after completing a mission, and "just so happened" to find Tyriel in the sparring room with another youngling. It wasn't until much later that Ty realized what his instructors had done, and his only regret was that it hadn't worked in the end.
II.
Lyons' tutelage was harsh. The half-a-millenia old man pushed Tyriel past what believed his limits to be. Then he shoved him until he did indeed reach his physical limit, broke it, and reached the next level. The first year of Jahn's instruction felt as if it had been nothing but combat conditioning. Had Ty been a normal boy, he likely would have been broken. He was no normal boy, though: he was a Jedi Padawan. Once Lyons believed that Ty was ready, body and mind, the man added Lightsaber combat and martial arts into the training regimen. Sporadically, and at random throughout the day.
Tired or no, Tyriel was expected to perform perfectly. Though the goal wasn't perfection of the arts movements, rather its purpose. Jahn taught him that if he walked into a fight like it was a dance, with elaborate movements and pretty spins, he would lose against a Dark Jedi who didn't think along those lines. Too many focused on the movements and the katas, and being perfect from an artistic standpoint. When, in fact, the purpose of those 'arts' was survival in combat... little more.
Jahn taught Ty a more practical version of combat. Soresu was included to give him some survivability in combat, but for the most part his master didn't expect him to go through the motions of the form. When he sparred against bots, training remotes, and other padawans he was expected to do but one thing: win. Winning is survival, and survival meant that you could go on to protect another day. Lyons also taught the basics of the power called 'Force Deflection' He focused in the school of Body, Telekinesis, and Protection.
Eight years of that intensive training, and Tyriel became quite proficient at combat. Oddly enough though, nearly all of Jahn's missions during those years were of a diplomatic nature. Ty may have learned diplomacy through experience because of this, but he was chomping at the bit to apply what he had learned in the sparring room to real life. When he shared this with his master, the old man only shook his head. He continued on to give the boy a small lecture.
"Regardless of what we Jedi like to think, we're soldiers. We fight crime, the darkside, whatever, and we're very good at it. But fighting isn't all we do. I can teachyou how to fight, how to win in a fight for your life. I can't teach you how to be a fair, wise, and even handed arbiter in a dispute. I can only show you how to do so. I understand your eagerness, believe me I do, but trust me when I tell you that it will come in due time. And when it does, you'll wish it hadn't. For now, just learn what you can while you can."
Ty did just that, and his wish would soon come true.
A bitter dispute between two rival companies for the patent of a particularly revolutionary starship drive product grew so intense that the two parties called for Jedi mediation. Naturally, Jahn was the first to jump on the mission, hoping to grant his apprentice more experience in the diplomatic side of being a Jedi. The arbitration was going fairly well, and was rather tame... until a gargantuan mercenary and a mandalorian female stormed the office building.
The duo had been hired by a third party interested in seeing one of the other two walk away with a better deal. Jahn escorted half of the delegation to their shuttle, while Tyriel took charge of the other half in an attempt to split the would be assassins up. It worked. There was only one problem: The big one made a B line straight for Tyriel. The mando gave chase to his master. It took all that the pup had to survive the barrage of tungsten slugs that the merc shot, let alone effectively guard the detail of terrified businessmen. At one point, Tyriel defied his otherwise cautious approach to combat and charged the hulking, unarmored man.
This was a mistake.
The large man drew a sword whose blade was almost as long as Ty was. The big man fought with the same ferocity that Siril had so many years prior. He then learned the value of experience. The merc may have had no Jedi training but he was almost as fast as he was strong, and knew how to fight. One can train in the art of combat until they became blue in the face but until they found themselves in a serious fight they knew nothing. This man most certainly was a text book on what Tyriel didn't know. The sheer power of the man's blows sent the boy staggering back. Had he not been so well schooled at defending himself the boy would have been turned to a shishkebab. The fight ended with Tyriel losing his saber and being hurled through a surprisingly thick sixth story window. Fortunately he impacted with a controlled, Force assisted fall. Unfortunately it still knocked him out cold.
He woke up in the medical wing of the Jedi temple four days later. It had taken the combined skills of some of the most experienced healers to mend all of his wounds, but in the end they had been almost perfectly attended to. Granted, it took weeks of physical rehabilitation and intensive Force healing sessions, but that point is small. From time to time he would have a slight tinge in his back but it was far from painful and easily ignored. When he was ready his master summoned him to say that the leviathan of a man he faced was a new, but terrifyingly effective merc. The more important part was that he was the same one who had faced off against an experienced knight a few months prior. The knight had been impaled by the behemoth of a merc. Because of his actions in the face of death, and the fact that he managed to keep a very dangerous Jedi killer from doing harm to innocent people, he had completed one of the three necessary Jedi trials. Courage. He passed the trial of skill two years later when he was pitted against a the temple's weapon master, and due to his training in Soresu was able to hold his own for a short time. A notable feat, even if the weapon master wasn't going all out on the 'blind' boy.
Two years after he completed the trial of skill, the now adult Tyriel found himself preparing to enter the last of his trials: the trial of Spirit. This trial was one that involved delving deep within oneself to face one's darkest demons. A slight tremor of fear shook him as he knelt down to enter that fabled meditative trance, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. As he delved deeper and deeper into trance, he reached a plane of his own mind. It resembled a post-destruction version of the Jedi temple, and he resided within the same room that he began his meditations.
At first he believed that he had slept through some sort of invasion, but after an impossibly long search he found another being. A shadowy figure sat in one of the seats of the high council. It looked like Tyriel plus a few decades, save the burning anger aura that hung around him.The shade rose from his seat without a word and threw Ty back with a single wave of his hand. What ensued was an impossibly long battle that took the two through the darkest depths of the destroyed temple. All weapons at his disposal were used be they fists, lightsabers, or the Force. The battle only ended when Tyriel destroyed the shade with a quick neck snap. He awoke from the trance with a smile gracing his master's lips: he had passed. Within a week he had been summoned by the council and subsequently knighted.
III.
As the man came down from the chambers, he noticed a tall, black haired woman. It was Siri. She had recently returned from a mission, and after congratulating him she offered a friendly spar "for old time's sake." Tyriel would later regret not kindly refusing the spar, and walking out of her life. She was better than him at everything in their youth and that fact didn't change now that they were adults. The spar quickly evolved from a one sided duel to a grapple. That grapple grew steamy very quickly. Had he not retreated from the engagement it would have gotten much worse. Love was against the Code and intimate contact was a sign of such a connection. Tyriel was truly afraid of what he felt, having suppressed emotions since he first sent that kick into her chest.
Siri understood, apologized, but asked if they could still spar or at least talk to one another from time to time. Ty, being a fool, accepted the offer. They were together at every opportunity, over the course of the next few years. At first Tyriel was resistant to her subtle advances, but after a short while his will was broken. For the first few months it was something of a guilty pleasure. No less than three attempts to break off the relationship were attempted but he found that he just couldn't help himself around her. To this day he still can't, in some ways. That feeling of guilt slowly dissipated over time.
Between what missions he was given, the man continued his spars with Siri and other Jedi to increase his command of the Force, and went on to informally help struggling younglings with the finer points of the Force. This was quickly ended, though. The instructors would never forget how unruly he had been when he first arrived to the temple, no matter how greatly he had changed.
By the age of thirty three, he had all but mastered Force Deflection and began to learn the aspects of Force Absorb. Mastery of the Force and his love for Siril had also grown quite a bit by then. She had given him a small onyx gem attached to a silver necklace as a gift around this time, and later he had given her a matching stark white crystal. None of those events are as notable as his meeting with a twi'lek boy named Palar Schmekel, though. Palar was a fairly skilled Rutian twi'lek with a bit of a temper. He reminded Tyriel of someone he knew when he was a pup: himself.
Ty's tutelage was much like Jahn's, though notably less physically demanding. Pal's expectations where the same as Tyriel when he had been an apprentice. Like Tyriel, Pal lost many times before he began to win. The main difference was that Palar had the ability to adapt to ever changing situations. He was reckless and prone to mistakes when it came to a duel. Ty had made it a point to take Palar on more combat oriented missions than he had done. Ty had learned that no amount of training could substitute experience the hard way, and if he had his way... Pal wouldn't.
Siri also took an active role in training the boy, just as Tyriel had done with Siri's second padawan. Vexx, a Zeltron girl, had been very skilled when it came tolightsaber combat but had difficulty with all aspects relating to the incorporeal. Pal was the opposite, and had trouble with lightsaber combat. Siri had a knack for teaching Jedi how to use their inner power, and Tyriel had always been an apt lightsaber instructor. Both apprentices grew out of the arrangement, no matter how unorthodox it was.
When the boy was twenty, they were sent on a mission to search for missing hunters on Tatooine. The hunters themselves were never found, but a Krayt dragon was at the end of the trail the hunters had left. Tyriel was quickly knocked unconscious by a single lash of the creature's great tail. He awoke to Palar doing his best to hold the beast off and looking at his master one final time before the dragon's jaws closed around his shoulder. A scream pierced the arid air of the dune sea, and Tyriel shot up to defend his potentially mortally wounded padawan.
After the dragon was slain, the Jedi knight applied what healing he could with the Force and rushed the boy to the nearest aid station. Pal nearly lost his life that day. When they returned to Coruscant the Council decided that Pala had satisfied the trials of Flesh due to the loss of his arm. Once Palar had properly recovered and grown acclimated to his new arm, he had been put against the battlemaster at the time. He managed to hold the man off, and satisfy the trial of skill.
His final trial would come two years later, when they were sent after a Dark Jedi and his many apprentices. Siril and Vexx accompanied them along with Jahn and Ty for what turned out to be a manhunt that spanned several planets and countless light years. One year later, they were finally found on Anaxes... and they had quite the fight ahead of them. Jahn and Siril engaged the master while Ty fought the tattooed female apprentice. The padawans engaged the lesser skilled adepts.
The fight ended with the master and the woman escaping, their lesser skilled followers dead. Palar nearly killed one out of anger, but withdrew his saber at the last second. A soul saving move that nearly ended his life as the adept charged. Had Vexx not been there to take her second life of the day, Palar would have been half the boy he used to be. Later on, they were joined by a high councilor, Master Illuma Creed, and caught up with the Dark Jedi and his remaining apprentice once more. The Master was killed and the apprentice redeemed... it seemed the woman was once Creed's padawan. This would be the last mission that Master Lyons would go on, as he became one with the Force in his sleep on the voyage back to Coruscant. Tyriel didn't mourn the man, but took solace in the fact that his passing was peaceful.
Having satisfied the trial of spirit, Pal was knighted and Tyriel made a master by the age of 45. Vexx was knighted a few years later, which was about when they went to their respective masters and professed their love for one another. This put the old man in a pretty odd predicament, and for once in a long while he had no clue how to properly react. Tyriel was no hypocrite, so he didn't try to dissuade them nor did he report them.
What Master Tyriel did, was nothing.
IV.
Everything someone does, even nothing, has consequences. That was the lesson that Tyriel took from this debacle. Three years after Vexx and Palar were knighted, Vexx was killed by a random thug with a lucky shot. Pal begged to be allowed to find the one who killed her and bring him to justice. He wasn't even allowed to leave the temple, thanks to Siri's influence with the council and her intelligence. She had always been well respected despite her secret indescretions. Palar stole out of the temple regardless, and Ty was sent to bring him back when his absence was discovered. He did find the boy, but only after he had killed the man, his wife, and almost did the same to his child. Tyriel's quick action stopped the blade from falling.
After a heated argument, and many attempts to bring his old friend in peacefully, a duel erupted. Its considerable length was only because Ty refused to kill the twi'lek boy until it became apparent that he was hell bent on killing an innocent child. A swift stroke carried the boy from the realm of the living to the realm of the dead. In Ty's view no life was worth more than that of a child's. Not Siri's. Not Palar's. Not even his. It was in this moment that Ty's realized that Ashla had called for him to change his life. He needed to shed his carnal pleasures and character deficiencies. The Miraluka man did just that.
After delivering the grim report to the council the man requested a change in duty station. He was immediately sent to the ice world of Rhen Var. Tyriel did his best to forget about Siri during his self imposed psuedo exile. He ignored all of the messages sent from her, and even went so far as to refuse a couple of missions from the council of reconciliation. The few that he did accept related to finding those who called Bogan their friend. Those missions sometimes involved a dead Dark Jedi at its end, but he took a life only when he absolutely needed to. Most of his missions ended with a captured Dark Jedi, albeit a maimed one.
Six years later he was told that Siril Rok had left the Jedi Order under good standing. He was surprised, but accepted the fact that her life was her own. So long as she stayed on the path of light he had no reason to find her. Months later he learned that a Knight had found that she hadn't stayed on the side of Ashla and was killed for it. Tyriel was assigned the duty of finding her, and he cautiously accepted.
Half a year passed before the man found her, and when he did a rather large part of him wished that he hadn't. His Siri had certainly fallen to the Dark Side. Hard. Her face was gaunt, beautiful blue eyes turned a sick color, and fingernails a pale yellow. The once beautiful black haired woman he had known had died, and the woman that stood before him was a mere ghost of what she had been. Tyriel was pained to see her like this, and to his dismay she wouldn't return to the Order for anyone or anything. Not even for him. After an eternity of pleading, he decided that nothing would bring her back and he certainly wasn't about to become something capable of killing children for her.
Tyriel moved to take the onyx crystal, which had hung in that very spot for most of his life, off of his neck. Siril Rok let out a bellow that could have shook the foundations of the earth, and sent Tyriel flying backwards before he could even begin to pull the gem from his neck. All two hundred pounds of the old man crashed through a metal bar and a rather stout wall. The snap he heard and felt in his back happened a heartbeat before pain erupted from his spine.
His spine was not broken, though, as he was able to make the pain tolerable with the use of the Force. Fortunate, because the master almost instantly threw herself at her former lover. The fight went almost exactly as well as every spar he ever had with her went. Except this time Siril was out for blood. Rage filled those sick yellow eyes as she destroyed his lightsaber and held the blade to his neck... yet something stopped her from making the final cut. He knew she couldn't bring herself to kill him... until he heard the wind roar in his ears and the sickening crack of glass.
She sent him through a window. They were on the hundred and fifteenth floor of a skyscraper. Tyriel was hit by multiple speeders on the way down. He woke up in the same room of the medical wing of the temple that he had almost fifty years prior. Apparently he bounced off of a few more speeders and landed in the back of a convertible. The driver took him to the hospital, and from there he was taken to the temple. Regardless, the healers were able to mend most of his ailments outright. The sessions of intensive physical therapy and Force healing went on for months.
After his recovery, he was shuffled off to the sparring room. This time teaching rather than participating.
Six years later, Master Arckan rushed off to fight a war with Master Took and a great portion of the more short sighted members of the Jedi Order. Rhissai, of course, fell... or at least left the Jedi Order within a fortnight. Despite his views on cleansing the galaxy, he remembered the lessons that the Jedi learned from Revan and Malak. Open war was not to be so easily rushed in to. When the time was right and the council allowed it he would fight for the Republic, and not a second before.
RP Sample:
Tyriel watched as the world rushed around him, he details melting into a blur. Wind tugged at his drab brown clothes, and roared in his still ringing ears. Shards of glass hung around him like a shining constellation of stars. A few moments later, the man realized that he had been falling. The old man then remembered why the ground now rushed up to greet him like an old lover.
Almost a year since her departure from the Jedi, and six months after being sent to see if Siri had fallen or not, Ty had found his old flame. Seeing her dead would have been preferable to the state he had found her in. That once beautiful black hair had become thin and gangly, those glittering blue eyes had soured to a sick yellow, and once healthy skin had grown cracked and dry. She may have been a Morellian, but the woman looked emaciated and elderly. Siril Rok was a ghost of what she had been. Perhaps, though, she could be brought back to life.
"Siri," his mouth hadn't articulated that name in far too long. It felt foreign to his lips, yet familiar at the same time. It had been a very long time since he'd seen her last. "Come back," he wished that more words would come to him, but his tongue had refused to move. He was just too stunned for monologues. His plea was met with a coo, "Ooo. Now you suddenly care?" Even her voice had changed to a sick, raspy tune. The Siril he had known was truly dead.
"I always cared," his voice was barely a whisper, "but what else was I supposed to do?" He paused for a moment, "let history repeat? No. I needed to leave, before I fell further from the code." Siri only shook her head, her eyes full of rage, "That's all I was to you. Some guilty pleasure. You could have at least spoken to me. "
"I was scared to."
"Ha. Like that's an excuse. Try something else; you're many things but coward isn't one of them. Now: why?"
"I was scared. My padawan fell to love, and I had been breaking the code since my christening. There was only one thing that path lead to, and I didn't want to find the end of it."
"So you were a coward. I sure know how to pick 'em.
"Siri, please. These people," he motioned out of the thick window to the surrounding megatropolis. It may have been the dead of night, but the lights of speeders still streamed past the windows like turbo lasers from battling warships. "These people are more important than what I want. They are the weak, and we are the only thing that protects them from the strong. The darkness. Evil."
"You are, you mean. You always were an arrogant old fool." Siri's voice dripped with poison and lies. Tyriel didn't have an arrogant bone in his body. He quickly grew tired of the exchange. Siri wouldn't budge. He wouldn't budge. "Siril, this is my last offer. Please come with me."
"No. You come with me." Ty sighed at the indignant response. She was always a stubborn woman, "or what? You going to kill me like you killed Pala'r? Ha! I'm no angry child, and I won't die half as easily." "Only if I must," His eyes closed for a moment. She was right on all counts. Siri had been a better at everything since they were children. That hadn't changed their whole lives. "No, I won't fight you. But you aren't the woman I loved, Siril. Not anymore."
He noticed that the glittering white gem still hung from her neck. His hands slipped under the necklace he wore, the one with a black gem attached, and began to lift it off his neck. An ear shattering scream exploded from her throat, casting him through a wall and shaking the building to its foundations.
Pain exploded in his back, and sent tremors throughout his whole body. His back had always been weak, but if felt as if it had been shattered. Maybe not, though. He could still move his legs... it just hurt like hell. The Force flooded into the man's body, dulling the pain enough for him to rise. Just in time for Siri to swipe at his chest. He managed to doge the saber's blade, but she still caught some of his chest.
The Miraluka reacted quickly, drawing his saber and barely parrying her vicious strikes. Without his wound to slow him, the man was of a comparable speed to Siri. With it his attacks were impossibly slow, however. Siri lazily parried, dodged, or evaded what few attacks he could muster as if they were made by a youngling. Then she launched an assault of her own.
He was quickly being pushed back, which is what happens when he begins to lose. It took all he had to keep the storm of silver plasma from closing around him. Then his emitter was seared off after one of her feints, and he was left without a tooth in a fight with a lion. The silver blade rose to his neck, and all Tyriel did in retort was to raise his neck. Given the option, he would have an intact head without a body. Maybe they'd resurrect him, put it in a jar, and let him live on as a talking head. "You betrayed me!" Siri screamed, this time without the assistance of the Force. Hurt and fury mixed and raged within those sour yellow eyes. He had always wondered what his final moments would be. Tyriel was glad that he wasn't like most people; he would not weep and pray for a little more time to live life a different way. He would go as a hero going home.
"Well, I'm not exactly in a position to argue," he looked into his eyes. So yellow. Not blue. Ty could tell that she wanted to kill him more than anything, but something stopped her. Perhaps she still loved him. Even after all this, he certainly still felt something for her. His mouth moved to say something when he was cut off. It felt like she sent a massive fist into his chest, pushing out what air he had within. Tyriel was sent through the stout skyscraper window like it was paper. It took him a moment, but he realized that she had used telekinesis on him rather than simply cut his head off. Not that it mattered... he was one hundred stories up.
From where they started counting floors. Which wasn't at ground level. It wasn't long before he felt the crash of something against his body. A few moments he felt another. Then nothing.
Race: Miraluka
Age: 65
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180lbs
Appearance:
Tyriel is a moderately tall man, though not quite as handsome as he had been three decades ago. A thick blonde beard covers his face and chin length blonde hair hangs from his head. A simple veil covers the part of his face where his eyes would be if he was human. The look on Ty's face is generally a tired one. Sleep comes rarely to the man as nightmares generally plague his dreams. He has no real scars to speak of though his knuckles are large from continuous breaking. He believes that that tattoos are a juvenile way to express the need to be unique so he has none. When he's not wearing the traditional robes of the Jedi Order, which is rarely, the man dons a more inconspicuous set of civilian attire.
Personality:
Lawful Good
Tyriel is a righteous man who believes that the Dark Side and the Sith are a blight that must be cleansed from the galaxy. He believes that the tolerance and understanding of the previous generations of Jedi have allowed the Sith to gain strength enough to be a serious threat to the republic. Despite this view, Ty isn't without mercy. Any Dark Jedi he finds is given the option to come quietly and face no punishment, so long as they renounce Bogan and convert to Ashla. Any Dark Jedi or Sith that doesn't is either killed, or captured if they can't fight. He is also a believer in the law, and refuses to break it under any circumstance. Any person that does is to be captured and subjected to a jury of his peers.
Tyrbelieves that the Jedi, contrary to what they say, are in fact as much soldiers as they are emissaries and diplomats. Though he is also a man who learns from his own experiences as well as those of others. Which was why he was hesitant to join the blades even after the Sith revealed themselves. The last 400 years of history regarding war had taught him that much. In his view, the Sith teachings are an evil that must be purged no matter what the cost. Those that cling to them should either be turned or killed, with absolutely no exceptions.
At his core, Ty has a guilty heart. He blames himself for Siri's fall, as well as his apprentice's streak of vengeance that ended in his death at his Tyriel's hands. The man has vowed to take absolutely no pity on her whenever she's found. Its not about vengeance, but righting a wrong. Correcting a mistake.
Birth place: Space
Faction: Jedi Order
Rank: High Council Member
Lightsaber: Single Phase (Destroyed, rebuilding)
Color: Yellow
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Soresu - 3
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 9
Telepathic: 3
Body: 7
Sense: 6
Protection: 8
Healing: 5
Destruction: N/A
Specialized Skills:
Force Absorb
Force Deflection
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 1
Force Attunement: +7
Bio:
I.
Tyriel was born on the world of Alpherderies, like many other Miraluka before him. Despite the unity of his people, his parents were little more than rogues that were involved in the buying and selling of illegal goods. The few years of his young life had been spent carefree, despite his parents' occupation. Until the authorities came with a Jedi to lock his parents away for a very long time. There wasn't really much of a fight involved, and after his parents were gone the Jedi offered to take him to be trained as a Jedi. At first he refused the offer, but after being told that it was either the Order or an orphanage, he quickly accepted.
Many light years and one long voyage later, the little boy found himself staring up at the grand structure known as the Jedi Temple. His mouth hung open as he walked the many steps up to the entrance, eyes full of wonder and awe. His imagination ran rampant with thoughts of the kind of greaet beings who made that their home, or furthermore... how they built anything so tall. As it turned out, these 'great beings' looked like normal people, except without much in the way of personality or fashion sense.
After being given a set of dull brown robes, which were surprisingly comfortable by the way, the boy was shuffled off to his first class. It was droll, and he almost instantly found himself bored as a result. Kid Maaziel was a nightmarish thing, and a hasty recipe for disaster. He ended up punching a girl and kicking at her chest for 'looking at him funny.'
A sonic boom was almost heard as he was rushed off to what passed for a counselor in the ranks of the Jedi.
After a long talk, a kindly man decided that it was best if classes were after exercises for the energetic little boy. After exercise was finished, the boy didn't have enough energy for mischief, so the problem was temporarily solved. To supplement this, the instructors continued to talk to him through some of his many issues. Eventually, his aggressive nature was overcome simply because he realized that there was a time and place for everything... and aggression certainly wasn't welcome in the Jedi Order. Once he knew that there was a problem, he began to fix it... though it always lingered at the edge of his consciousness. Bestial urges that begged to be satiated.
Until he began to learn the first form of lightsaber combat.
The application of lightsaber combat was the perfect forum for aggression, and once he learned to control it the boy was a force to be reckoned with. While he wasn't the best duelist in the class, he was far from the worst. The boy never made the same mistake twice, and eventually fought his way up to the top of his class. It was his most advanced discipline for a time. Once he learned how to apply the more physical aspects of the Force, such as body and telekinesis, his interest in lightsabers fell away quickly.
The only other youngling that had t he ability to consistently defeat him also happened to be one of the opposite sex and a Morellian: Siril Rok. She happened to be the same one that he hit a few years before. Her prowess with a lightsaber was second only to her command of the Force. The fact that a girl was the only one who could beat him was one that earned him a considerable amount of chiding. His new found temperance was tested heavily, and nearly failed on more than one occasion. The most vexing thing about Siril was that she rarely made a mistake he could act upon, and never gave him a chance to adapt to her methods.
The furthest he ever got in a spar with Siri was holding her off for a trice before the inevitable.
Tired of the chiding, the defeats, and mildly intrigued by the girl's martial and arcane prowess, he began to do more than just spar with her. After no small amount of cajoling, Tyriel managed to get her to agree to a more informal sparring session. One where the instructors, the other children, and their rivalry was notably absent. Both childern learned quite a bit from each others' style and approach at combat. Eventually, he was invited to join in and other children as well. Though Siri and Maaz always had their private spars. More importantly they became close friends rather than bitter rivals. Tyriel also grew quite close to the two. The man found that Siri was almost completely his opposite; she was quiet, introverted, and downright timid in a social setting. Ironic, considering how ferocious she was in the sparring room.
Over the course of what would be their final year as younglings, they began to spend more time together. Contrary to the Jedi code he grew quite attached to her even though they were only kids. Tyriel thought she felt it as well or hoped at the very least, though he never had the chance to find out. One day Siri never appeared for their informal spar. Then she was absent from their after class study session. It wasn't until the next day that he was told that Siri was picked by a Master. One of the more illustrious Jedi based out of Mustafar, no less.
Tyriel was heartbroken.
The boy didn't have time to mull on his lost love interest, though. He was picked by a master as well, this one based out of the Dantooine enclave. An ancient Morellian by the name of Jahn Lyons had visited the Coruscanti temple after completing a mission, and "just so happened" to find Tyriel in the sparring room with another youngling. It wasn't until much later that Ty realized what his instructors had done, and his only regret was that it hadn't worked in the end.
II.
Lyons' tutelage was harsh. The half-a-millenia old man pushed Tyriel past what believed his limits to be. Then he shoved him until he did indeed reach his physical limit, broke it, and reached the next level. The first year of Jahn's instruction felt as if it had been nothing but combat conditioning. Had Ty been a normal boy, he likely would have been broken. He was no normal boy, though: he was a Jedi Padawan. Once Lyons believed that Ty was ready, body and mind, the man added Lightsaber combat and martial arts into the training regimen. Sporadically, and at random throughout the day.
Tired or no, Tyriel was expected to perform perfectly. Though the goal wasn't perfection of the arts movements, rather its purpose. Jahn taught him that if he walked into a fight like it was a dance, with elaborate movements and pretty spins, he would lose against a Dark Jedi who didn't think along those lines. Too many focused on the movements and the katas, and being perfect from an artistic standpoint. When, in fact, the purpose of those 'arts' was survival in combat... little more.
Jahn taught Ty a more practical version of combat. Soresu was included to give him some survivability in combat, but for the most part his master didn't expect him to go through the motions of the form. When he sparred against bots, training remotes, and other padawans he was expected to do but one thing: win. Winning is survival, and survival meant that you could go on to protect another day. Lyons also taught the basics of the power called 'Force Deflection' He focused in the school of Body, Telekinesis, and Protection.
Eight years of that intensive training, and Tyriel became quite proficient at combat. Oddly enough though, nearly all of Jahn's missions during those years were of a diplomatic nature. Ty may have learned diplomacy through experience because of this, but he was chomping at the bit to apply what he had learned in the sparring room to real life. When he shared this with his master, the old man only shook his head. He continued on to give the boy a small lecture.
"Regardless of what we Jedi like to think, we're soldiers. We fight crime, the darkside, whatever, and we're very good at it. But fighting isn't all we do. I can teachyou how to fight, how to win in a fight for your life. I can't teach you how to be a fair, wise, and even handed arbiter in a dispute. I can only show you how to do so. I understand your eagerness, believe me I do, but trust me when I tell you that it will come in due time. And when it does, you'll wish it hadn't. For now, just learn what you can while you can."
Ty did just that, and his wish would soon come true.
A bitter dispute between two rival companies for the patent of a particularly revolutionary starship drive product grew so intense that the two parties called for Jedi mediation. Naturally, Jahn was the first to jump on the mission, hoping to grant his apprentice more experience in the diplomatic side of being a Jedi. The arbitration was going fairly well, and was rather tame... until a gargantuan mercenary and a mandalorian female stormed the office building.
The duo had been hired by a third party interested in seeing one of the other two walk away with a better deal. Jahn escorted half of the delegation to their shuttle, while Tyriel took charge of the other half in an attempt to split the would be assassins up. It worked. There was only one problem: The big one made a B line straight for Tyriel. The mando gave chase to his master. It took all that the pup had to survive the barrage of tungsten slugs that the merc shot, let alone effectively guard the detail of terrified businessmen. At one point, Tyriel defied his otherwise cautious approach to combat and charged the hulking, unarmored man.
This was a mistake.
The large man drew a sword whose blade was almost as long as Ty was. The big man fought with the same ferocity that Siril had so many years prior. He then learned the value of experience. The merc may have had no Jedi training but he was almost as fast as he was strong, and knew how to fight. One can train in the art of combat until they became blue in the face but until they found themselves in a serious fight they knew nothing. This man most certainly was a text book on what Tyriel didn't know. The sheer power of the man's blows sent the boy staggering back. Had he not been so well schooled at defending himself the boy would have been turned to a shishkebab. The fight ended with Tyriel losing his saber and being hurled through a surprisingly thick sixth story window. Fortunately he impacted with a controlled, Force assisted fall. Unfortunately it still knocked him out cold.
He woke up in the medical wing of the Jedi temple four days later. It had taken the combined skills of some of the most experienced healers to mend all of his wounds, but in the end they had been almost perfectly attended to. Granted, it took weeks of physical rehabilitation and intensive Force healing sessions, but that point is small. From time to time he would have a slight tinge in his back but it was far from painful and easily ignored. When he was ready his master summoned him to say that the leviathan of a man he faced was a new, but terrifyingly effective merc. The more important part was that he was the same one who had faced off against an experienced knight a few months prior. The knight had been impaled by the behemoth of a merc. Because of his actions in the face of death, and the fact that he managed to keep a very dangerous Jedi killer from doing harm to innocent people, he had completed one of the three necessary Jedi trials. Courage. He passed the trial of skill two years later when he was pitted against a the temple's weapon master, and due to his training in Soresu was able to hold his own for a short time. A notable feat, even if the weapon master wasn't going all out on the 'blind' boy.
Two years after he completed the trial of skill, the now adult Tyriel found himself preparing to enter the last of his trials: the trial of Spirit. This trial was one that involved delving deep within oneself to face one's darkest demons. A slight tremor of fear shook him as he knelt down to enter that fabled meditative trance, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. As he delved deeper and deeper into trance, he reached a plane of his own mind. It resembled a post-destruction version of the Jedi temple, and he resided within the same room that he began his meditations.
At first he believed that he had slept through some sort of invasion, but after an impossibly long search he found another being. A shadowy figure sat in one of the seats of the high council. It looked like Tyriel plus a few decades, save the burning anger aura that hung around him.The shade rose from his seat without a word and threw Ty back with a single wave of his hand. What ensued was an impossibly long battle that took the two through the darkest depths of the destroyed temple. All weapons at his disposal were used be they fists, lightsabers, or the Force. The battle only ended when Tyriel destroyed the shade with a quick neck snap. He awoke from the trance with a smile gracing his master's lips: he had passed. Within a week he had been summoned by the council and subsequently knighted.
III.
As the man came down from the chambers, he noticed a tall, black haired woman. It was Siri. She had recently returned from a mission, and after congratulating him she offered a friendly spar "for old time's sake." Tyriel would later regret not kindly refusing the spar, and walking out of her life. She was better than him at everything in their youth and that fact didn't change now that they were adults. The spar quickly evolved from a one sided duel to a grapple. That grapple grew steamy very quickly. Had he not retreated from the engagement it would have gotten much worse. Love was against the Code and intimate contact was a sign of such a connection. Tyriel was truly afraid of what he felt, having suppressed emotions since he first sent that kick into her chest.
Siri understood, apologized, but asked if they could still spar or at least talk to one another from time to time. Ty, being a fool, accepted the offer. They were together at every opportunity, over the course of the next few years. At first Tyriel was resistant to her subtle advances, but after a short while his will was broken. For the first few months it was something of a guilty pleasure. No less than three attempts to break off the relationship were attempted but he found that he just couldn't help himself around her. To this day he still can't, in some ways. That feeling of guilt slowly dissipated over time.
Between what missions he was given, the man continued his spars with Siri and other Jedi to increase his command of the Force, and went on to informally help struggling younglings with the finer points of the Force. This was quickly ended, though. The instructors would never forget how unruly he had been when he first arrived to the temple, no matter how greatly he had changed.
By the age of thirty three, he had all but mastered Force Deflection and began to learn the aspects of Force Absorb. Mastery of the Force and his love for Siril had also grown quite a bit by then. She had given him a small onyx gem attached to a silver necklace as a gift around this time, and later he had given her a matching stark white crystal. None of those events are as notable as his meeting with a twi'lek boy named Palar Schmekel, though. Palar was a fairly skilled Rutian twi'lek with a bit of a temper. He reminded Tyriel of someone he knew when he was a pup: himself.
Ty's tutelage was much like Jahn's, though notably less physically demanding. Pal's expectations where the same as Tyriel when he had been an apprentice. Like Tyriel, Pal lost many times before he began to win. The main difference was that Palar had the ability to adapt to ever changing situations. He was reckless and prone to mistakes when it came to a duel. Ty had made it a point to take Palar on more combat oriented missions than he had done. Ty had learned that no amount of training could substitute experience the hard way, and if he had his way... Pal wouldn't.
Siri also took an active role in training the boy, just as Tyriel had done with Siri's second padawan. Vexx, a Zeltron girl, had been very skilled when it came tolightsaber combat but had difficulty with all aspects relating to the incorporeal. Pal was the opposite, and had trouble with lightsaber combat. Siri had a knack for teaching Jedi how to use their inner power, and Tyriel had always been an apt lightsaber instructor. Both apprentices grew out of the arrangement, no matter how unorthodox it was.
When the boy was twenty, they were sent on a mission to search for missing hunters on Tatooine. The hunters themselves were never found, but a Krayt dragon was at the end of the trail the hunters had left. Tyriel was quickly knocked unconscious by a single lash of the creature's great tail. He awoke to Palar doing his best to hold the beast off and looking at his master one final time before the dragon's jaws closed around his shoulder. A scream pierced the arid air of the dune sea, and Tyriel shot up to defend his potentially mortally wounded padawan.
After the dragon was slain, the Jedi knight applied what healing he could with the Force and rushed the boy to the nearest aid station. Pal nearly lost his life that day. When they returned to Coruscant the Council decided that Pala had satisfied the trials of Flesh due to the loss of his arm. Once Palar had properly recovered and grown acclimated to his new arm, he had been put against the battlemaster at the time. He managed to hold the man off, and satisfy the trial of skill.
His final trial would come two years later, when they were sent after a Dark Jedi and his many apprentices. Siril and Vexx accompanied them along with Jahn and Ty for what turned out to be a manhunt that spanned several planets and countless light years. One year later, they were finally found on Anaxes... and they had quite the fight ahead of them. Jahn and Siril engaged the master while Ty fought the tattooed female apprentice. The padawans engaged the lesser skilled adepts.
The fight ended with the master and the woman escaping, their lesser skilled followers dead. Palar nearly killed one out of anger, but withdrew his saber at the last second. A soul saving move that nearly ended his life as the adept charged. Had Vexx not been there to take her second life of the day, Palar would have been half the boy he used to be. Later on, they were joined by a high councilor, Master Illuma Creed, and caught up with the Dark Jedi and his remaining apprentice once more. The Master was killed and the apprentice redeemed... it seemed the woman was once Creed's padawan. This would be the last mission that Master Lyons would go on, as he became one with the Force in his sleep on the voyage back to Coruscant. Tyriel didn't mourn the man, but took solace in the fact that his passing was peaceful.
Having satisfied the trial of spirit, Pal was knighted and Tyriel made a master by the age of 45. Vexx was knighted a few years later, which was about when they went to their respective masters and professed their love for one another. This put the old man in a pretty odd predicament, and for once in a long while he had no clue how to properly react. Tyriel was no hypocrite, so he didn't try to dissuade them nor did he report them.
What Master Tyriel did, was nothing.
IV.
Everything someone does, even nothing, has consequences. That was the lesson that Tyriel took from this debacle. Three years after Vexx and Palar were knighted, Vexx was killed by a random thug with a lucky shot. Pal begged to be allowed to find the one who killed her and bring him to justice. He wasn't even allowed to leave the temple, thanks to Siri's influence with the council and her intelligence. She had always been well respected despite her secret indescretions. Palar stole out of the temple regardless, and Ty was sent to bring him back when his absence was discovered. He did find the boy, but only after he had killed the man, his wife, and almost did the same to his child. Tyriel's quick action stopped the blade from falling.
After a heated argument, and many attempts to bring his old friend in peacefully, a duel erupted. Its considerable length was only because Ty refused to kill the twi'lek boy until it became apparent that he was hell bent on killing an innocent child. A swift stroke carried the boy from the realm of the living to the realm of the dead. In Ty's view no life was worth more than that of a child's. Not Siri's. Not Palar's. Not even his. It was in this moment that Ty's realized that Ashla had called for him to change his life. He needed to shed his carnal pleasures and character deficiencies. The Miraluka man did just that.
After delivering the grim report to the council the man requested a change in duty station. He was immediately sent to the ice world of Rhen Var. Tyriel did his best to forget about Siri during his self imposed psuedo exile. He ignored all of the messages sent from her, and even went so far as to refuse a couple of missions from the council of reconciliation. The few that he did accept related to finding those who called Bogan their friend. Those missions sometimes involved a dead Dark Jedi at its end, but he took a life only when he absolutely needed to. Most of his missions ended with a captured Dark Jedi, albeit a maimed one.
Six years later he was told that Siril Rok had left the Jedi Order under good standing. He was surprised, but accepted the fact that her life was her own. So long as she stayed on the path of light he had no reason to find her. Months later he learned that a Knight had found that she hadn't stayed on the side of Ashla and was killed for it. Tyriel was assigned the duty of finding her, and he cautiously accepted.
Half a year passed before the man found her, and when he did a rather large part of him wished that he hadn't. His Siri had certainly fallen to the Dark Side. Hard. Her face was gaunt, beautiful blue eyes turned a sick color, and fingernails a pale yellow. The once beautiful black haired woman he had known had died, and the woman that stood before him was a mere ghost of what she had been. Tyriel was pained to see her like this, and to his dismay she wouldn't return to the Order for anyone or anything. Not even for him. After an eternity of pleading, he decided that nothing would bring her back and he certainly wasn't about to become something capable of killing children for her.
Tyriel moved to take the onyx crystal, which had hung in that very spot for most of his life, off of his neck. Siril Rok let out a bellow that could have shook the foundations of the earth, and sent Tyriel flying backwards before he could even begin to pull the gem from his neck. All two hundred pounds of the old man crashed through a metal bar and a rather stout wall. The snap he heard and felt in his back happened a heartbeat before pain erupted from his spine.
His spine was not broken, though, as he was able to make the pain tolerable with the use of the Force. Fortunate, because the master almost instantly threw herself at her former lover. The fight went almost exactly as well as every spar he ever had with her went. Except this time Siril was out for blood. Rage filled those sick yellow eyes as she destroyed his lightsaber and held the blade to his neck... yet something stopped her from making the final cut. He knew she couldn't bring herself to kill him... until he heard the wind roar in his ears and the sickening crack of glass.
She sent him through a window. They were on the hundred and fifteenth floor of a skyscraper. Tyriel was hit by multiple speeders on the way down. He woke up in the same room of the medical wing of the temple that he had almost fifty years prior. Apparently he bounced off of a few more speeders and landed in the back of a convertible. The driver took him to the hospital, and from there he was taken to the temple. Regardless, the healers were able to mend most of his ailments outright. The sessions of intensive physical therapy and Force healing went on for months.
After his recovery, he was shuffled off to the sparring room. This time teaching rather than participating.
Six years later, Master Arckan rushed off to fight a war with Master Took and a great portion of the more short sighted members of the Jedi Order. Rhissai, of course, fell... or at least left the Jedi Order within a fortnight. Despite his views on cleansing the galaxy, he remembered the lessons that the Jedi learned from Revan and Malak. Open war was not to be so easily rushed in to. When the time was right and the council allowed it he would fight for the Republic, and not a second before.
RP Sample:
Tyriel watched as the world rushed around him, he details melting into a blur. Wind tugged at his drab brown clothes, and roared in his still ringing ears. Shards of glass hung around him like a shining constellation of stars. A few moments later, the man realized that he had been falling. The old man then remembered why the ground now rushed up to greet him like an old lover.
Almost a year since her departure from the Jedi, and six months after being sent to see if Siri had fallen or not, Ty had found his old flame. Seeing her dead would have been preferable to the state he had found her in. That once beautiful black hair had become thin and gangly, those glittering blue eyes had soured to a sick yellow, and once healthy skin had grown cracked and dry. She may have been a Morellian, but the woman looked emaciated and elderly. Siril Rok was a ghost of what she had been. Perhaps, though, she could be brought back to life.
"Siri," his mouth hadn't articulated that name in far too long. It felt foreign to his lips, yet familiar at the same time. It had been a very long time since he'd seen her last. "Come back," he wished that more words would come to him, but his tongue had refused to move. He was just too stunned for monologues. His plea was met with a coo, "Ooo. Now you suddenly care?" Even her voice had changed to a sick, raspy tune. The Siril he had known was truly dead.
"I always cared," his voice was barely a whisper, "but what else was I supposed to do?" He paused for a moment, "let history repeat? No. I needed to leave, before I fell further from the code." Siri only shook her head, her eyes full of rage, "That's all I was to you. Some guilty pleasure. You could have at least spoken to me. "
"I was scared to."
"Ha. Like that's an excuse. Try something else; you're many things but coward isn't one of them. Now: why?"
"I was scared. My padawan fell to love, and I had been breaking the code since my christening. There was only one thing that path lead to, and I didn't want to find the end of it."
"So you were a coward. I sure know how to pick 'em.
"Siri, please. These people," he motioned out of the thick window to the surrounding megatropolis. It may have been the dead of night, but the lights of speeders still streamed past the windows like turbo lasers from battling warships. "These people are more important than what I want. They are the weak, and we are the only thing that protects them from the strong. The darkness. Evil."
"You are, you mean. You always were an arrogant old fool." Siri's voice dripped with poison and lies. Tyriel didn't have an arrogant bone in his body. He quickly grew tired of the exchange. Siri wouldn't budge. He wouldn't budge. "Siril, this is my last offer. Please come with me."
"No. You come with me." Ty sighed at the indignant response. She was always a stubborn woman, "or what? You going to kill me like you killed Pala'r? Ha! I'm no angry child, and I won't die half as easily." "Only if I must," His eyes closed for a moment. She was right on all counts. Siri had been a better at everything since they were children. That hadn't changed their whole lives. "No, I won't fight you. But you aren't the woman I loved, Siril. Not anymore."
He noticed that the glittering white gem still hung from her neck. His hands slipped under the necklace he wore, the one with a black gem attached, and began to lift it off his neck. An ear shattering scream exploded from her throat, casting him through a wall and shaking the building to its foundations.
Pain exploded in his back, and sent tremors throughout his whole body. His back had always been weak, but if felt as if it had been shattered. Maybe not, though. He could still move his legs... it just hurt like hell. The Force flooded into the man's body, dulling the pain enough for him to rise. Just in time for Siri to swipe at his chest. He managed to doge the saber's blade, but she still caught some of his chest.
The Miraluka reacted quickly, drawing his saber and barely parrying her vicious strikes. Without his wound to slow him, the man was of a comparable speed to Siri. With it his attacks were impossibly slow, however. Siri lazily parried, dodged, or evaded what few attacks he could muster as if they were made by a youngling. Then she launched an assault of her own.
He was quickly being pushed back, which is what happens when he begins to lose. It took all he had to keep the storm of silver plasma from closing around him. Then his emitter was seared off after one of her feints, and he was left without a tooth in a fight with a lion. The silver blade rose to his neck, and all Tyriel did in retort was to raise his neck. Given the option, he would have an intact head without a body. Maybe they'd resurrect him, put it in a jar, and let him live on as a talking head. "You betrayed me!" Siri screamed, this time without the assistance of the Force. Hurt and fury mixed and raged within those sour yellow eyes. He had always wondered what his final moments would be. Tyriel was glad that he wasn't like most people; he would not weep and pray for a little more time to live life a different way. He would go as a hero going home.
"Well, I'm not exactly in a position to argue," he looked into his eyes. So yellow. Not blue. Ty could tell that she wanted to kill him more than anything, but something stopped her. Perhaps she still loved him. Even after all this, he certainly still felt something for her. His mouth moved to say something when he was cut off. It felt like she sent a massive fist into his chest, pushing out what air he had within. Tyriel was sent through the stout skyscraper window like it was paper. It took him a moment, but he realized that she had used telekinesis on him rather than simply cut his head off. Not that it mattered... he was one hundred stories up.
From where they started counting floors. Which wasn't at ground level. It wasn't long before he felt the crash of something against his body. A few moments he felt another. Then nothing.
