It was the beginning of another dreary day at the Harpoon and it was already turning out to be a rather quiet, relaxing one. Least for everybody but Cheshik, whom Iisska had working on the ship for the day. The lizard had grumbled and gotten to work, leaving Iisska to happily start training in hand to hand combat with Marquis, much to his glee. All at the same time, Quin, fresh off of getting a little plastered in the lounge last night after her rather exhausting morning with her lover, was going to begin her sword training with Nyrette as her master. The thought of Nyrette schooling Quin, somebody she looked up to and loved dearly, how to use a sword was one that excited her possibly too much. She hurried down the hall with both hers and Quin's swords in hand, making her way towards the hanger to head outside when she stopped just before the lounge and saw Cynthia walking out in a rather baggy lavender shirt and leggings. She had an empty bowl in her hands. “Woah. Cynthia...those aren't my clothes.” Nyrette said. “Nope. Got them last night.” She said with a smile. “Last...night? What? You went back to the city?” Nyrette exclaimed “Yep.” Cynthia replied “And back in less than twelve hours?” “Eleven, yes. Like my other pearl core sisters, I can run very fast.” She said, turning her leg a bit to show her larger than human-average calves. “Damn. I won't lie...kinda wish I could build up the muscle like that.” Nyrette said a little coyly. “You are upper body base. I'm lower. Kinda like it that way.” She winked. “Also...what's with the bowl? Were...were you eating something?” Nyrette asked. “I...um...,” she hesitated, her fingers tightened slightly around the bowl's edges and she got a little nervous. “I found out about the...err...Toasted grain squares, with the slight bit of sugar and a cinnamon powder on them...” “The...Cinnamon crunch?” Nyrette stifled a laugh. “YES,” Cynthia yelled. “They...made me a little tipsy but they're delicious. I can't help it. I hate that Iisska showed me them...yet love it.” “Wait...tipsy? As in drunk?” Nyrette asked. “Yes. Sugar tends to have the same effect on me that alcohol has on you...just really extreme.” She replied. “Oh? That so? Remind me to dig out the fruit juices next time we party,” Nyrette chuckled. “They're loaded with them. Hey, I'll see you later, Cye.” Cynthia gulped as Nyrette walked off, dreading the fruit juice that Nyrette spoke of. She took a bit of a deep breath and walked on to find the kitchen and do a bit of cleaning up. Since her near mental breakdown just a couple days prior, Cynthia had been doing a huge amount better now that her brain had calmed down and she was able to sort out her rather large instabilities and settle down. She stepped lightly into the kitchen to find it a bit of a mess around the sink, what with a couple small stacks of bowls and utensils lying about. She set her bowl on the side and turned on the lake-pumped water, letting it heat. Since she had began talking with Iisska, she had found her emotional state to level out. She attributed it to him either being a good listener or caring just enough to acknowledge her presence every now and then when she asked a question. His answers didn't really prove one or the other, but it served to quell her emotions. Rubbing off the morning grime from her otherwise polished hands, Cynthia began the work that she was most accustomed to. Even after removing her mask and coming to terms with her development as a living being, her body still institutionally returned to the task it was made for: Being a servant. Even though she was more level headed now, she still had many burning questions in her mind about herself and the crew. Why is Iisska still so angry? Why can't she stop gawking at the most alien thing she had ever seen? Why is Nyrette blind? What is this 'force' thing that they talk about? Who is Zen and why is he so important? Why is cinnamon so damn delectable? She sighed as she wiped away a piece of food stuck to the bottom of a bowl. There she went again...'trash wording' as she had began to call it. The more she hung out with Iisska, the more she learned of the trash words...in two languages even! She shook her head and placed the last of the bowls to the side before moving onto the utensils and plates. Now that she thought about it...the more she learned the less that she cared that she was saying them. She knew that they were trashy and horrible words, but she found her tongue calling to them and using them slightly more each day...that wasn't the only habit she was beginning to form, truth be told. Since joining with the crew, her subconscious had been somewhat keeping track of how she was changing. Shifting to the qualities of the crew. She had to admit, she was happier now than she had been a week ago, then again she hadn't been feeling anything at all last week until her mask had been taken off, but she wondered when it would stop. She hadn't noticed it until nearly two hours after her first real talk with Iisska, but she had changed her manner of speaking mid-conversation. Just after she had changed her vocal cords her entire personality just...shifted. She acted a little more like him and her voice had dropped an octave. She wasn't complaining, but it was overly strange to her. She had to admit...she enjoyed entertaining the idea of taking after Iisska a little more than she probably should. After scrubbing down the utensils, she placed them onto a towel on the side of the sink and left them to dry. She placed her hands on the counter for a moment, looking down to them and looking at the veins that snaked their way over the backs, disappearing into her arm. That was something else that she had to admit to herself. The fact that Iisska was an alien that she had never before seen was...astonishing. He appealed to her curiosity and he gladly answered most of the questions that she presented him with. Even going as far as to detail what his homeworld was like and giving rather...vague descriptions of the other species in his universe was like...a whole universe. Again, she was presented with a sense of awe when he said that word. Universe. She already knew that Eos, as big as it is, is patheticly small when presented on a universal scale. To think that there was another universe out there was beyond her imagination. Having returned to the dishes, she finished the plates and left everything next to the sink to dry. There wasn't any cups or glasses surprisingly. Now that she thought of it, they all probably still had their cups with them or scattered about the ship. She thought about going to clean it all up, but she decided against it. She wiped off her hands on a towel and made her way outside to watch Marquis beat up an alien. --- Once Marquis and Nyrette sat down with their students, they spent the better part of a week teaching them the basics of their expertise. Marquis’ was hand to hand combat, one that rivaled his marksmanship while Nyrette’s was swordsmanship, a skill she was forced to love and hone to perfection in her time in the academy. For Marquis, teaching Iisska all that he knew was an easy prospect. He focused on what made Iisska a formidable fighter; hitting hard and hitting fast. He already had the hitting hard part down to a science, he hit like a truck full of bricks, but he wasn’t incredibly fast, and that’s where Marquis stepped in. Over the week, Iisska was shown how to direct his body and carry himself forward in an incredible momentum while simultaneously predicting where the enemy would be and how they would react. He taught the togruta how to send his opponent not only reeling, but flying backwards and unable to retaliate in the slightest. To shatter defenses and prevent them from ever putting up a fight. As for Nyrette and Quin, it was a little tougher considering Quin hadn’t even held a sword in her entire life. She tried to justify it and say that knives and daggers were training enough, but after having her entire defense broken and being thrown to the ground, she stopped saying that. Once she got the basics down however, Quin took to Nyrette’s training methods like a pen takes to paper. Nyrette focused on Quin’s body type and flowing seamlessly between movements, as if the entire battle was just a plan in her mind and she already knew the conclusion, a tactic that would throw off more than a few combatants. At the end of the week, they each had a sparing match to show how far they’d come. “Come at me, Iisska; Once more. I will not hold back.” Marquis yelled and set his coat to the side, taking a defensive stance to intercept Iisska. Iisska’s eyes immediately snapped up to meet Marquis’. He began to circle around him with slow and deliberate steps which drew him gradually closer. He shook out his hands and wrists before clenching them tight and let himself fall naturally into a relaxed fighting posture. By the time his feet began to skirt around the edges of his opponent’s green zone his guard was fully up and he was on his toes, ready to move in an instant. An instant was all it to ok for him to lash out at Marquis with the first of a series of quick off-hand jabs and dangerous punches. Marquis blocked every strike and moved to return the strike straight to Iisska’s stomach. The blow rang out through the trees as steel collided with steel. Marquis’ hand hit Iisska’s gauntlet after he sank, twisted and tucked his body in. Now that he was closer he twisted back and rose with a full forced uppercut. Marquis didn’t have the chance to block it and staggered back, a deep dent marring his once pristine metal beard. Marquis responded with a dozen well placed rabbit punches, which threw Iisska off balance as he back-pedaled to get clear of them. [i]Don’t keep pushing back, [/i] he remembered from an earlier lesson. Despite every part of his mind and body urging him to keep resisting, he let himself fall back. Not to the ground, no. Just enough. Just enough to let the last of Marquis’ flurry of quick punches catch nothing but the air centimeters away. He swung his forward foot out wide to catch himself and sidestep dangerously close to Marquis. He kept the arching momentum going and swung a hook at Marquis’ ribs. He took the attack and was thrown in the air for a moment, giving Iisska a large opening before he retaliated. Iisska didn’t waste his opportunity. With Marquis ungrounded he pulled up his knee and smashed his boot into him hard as soon as he touched the ground. With that, Marquis flew backwards and hit the ground hard, rolling backwards onto his feet and took a different stance now, waiting for Iisska to rush at him, intending to go on a strong offense. But he didn’t rush. As at the beginning of the fight he took his time closing the distance between the two of them. His eyes hadn’t moved from Marquis’ for a second. He was steadying his breath and continuing to move and stay loose. He tested Marquis with a light jab that was more of a love tap than anything else. When he didn’t move Iisska struck out harder. At the second attack Marquis moved like lightning. Iisska’s attack never connected with its intended target as Marquis countered with a hard uppercut to Iisska’s jaw followed up by an overhand punch to his forehead before Marquis wind back and slammed his palm against the stunned Togruta’s chest, throwing him back. Iisska’s feet couldn’t move fast enough to catch himself. Not under that amount of force. He landed flat on his back. After a few seconds of reeling from being punched in the face Iisska sat up with a groan and a snort. Everything was spinning and it wouldn’t stop. Standing up only made it worse. He shook his head and tried to blink away the dull pain in his skull to no avail. [i]Fine. You wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.[/i] His approach was far less calculated and careful now. He stomped right up to the droid before putting up his fists and had no reservations about delivering the first haymaker. Marquis dodged out of the way of the haymaker and delivered a heavy jab straight to Iisska’s ribs, following up with a second then a third to Iisska’s abdomen. Iisska staggered back, stunned, before Marquis gift wrapped and delivered a wicked uppercut to Iisska’s jaw and finished off with a haymaker to the cheek, putting Iisska on the ground and out. Approaching the Togruta, he helped him up. “That is enough. You need to fight like you mean it and never hold back. Stay focused regardless of the pain.” “Damn it! How do you focus when being punched in the face!?” Iisska snapped… and sprayed flecks of blood on Marquis. He angrily wiped the blood off of his chest and spoke. “Stand in front of a mirror, punch yourself in the face, focus on whatever is behind you.” Iisska’s brow furrowed and he seemed deep in thought for just a second. Then he looked up at Marquis obviously unimpressed with the conclusion he had come to. “I’m not doing that,” he said, “There’s a better way, right? “Nope. Tis the only way, lad.” He said, rubbing his dented beard. “Iisska...he means conditioning.” Quin said as she and Nyrette watched them. “Still requires a punch to the face though.” ___ Elsewhere in the world, many leagues away. “My Regent…” The Inquisitor Brood Master bowed down onto one knee. Bordering on an almost unhealthy level of lithe, he was wrapped in a dark brown leather trench coat armor, various daggers and potions dangled from the belts that hung from his waist and chest. A jagged longsword made it’s home on his hip while a formidable flamberge sat on his back. He was very tall, easily standing seven feet and his tall inquisitor hat made him seem even taller. Deep wrinkles and scars marred his face underneath sunken black eyes and around his thin, cracked lips. His nose was cut and obviously broken many a time. Before him was a giant of a man adorned in reds in purples, bright white hair made up most of his head in long hair and longer beard. The master of the castle that the Inquisitor knelt in. The room was lavishly decorated with symbols of the regency and of the twelve kingdoms of the land. Guards stood at every door and an onyx skinned Haemonculus stood at his side. The Haemonculus stood perfectly still, as if not alive at all. A large onyx gem shined slightly on the side of his neck. His skin, hair, and armor color matched the gem, being completely jet black to better hide in the darkness of night. Even his eyes were black save for the two bright white stars that made up his pupils. He angrily scanned over the Inquisitor, having difficulties staying his hand. “Inquisitor Malgus,” the Regent said, his voice low and commanding over the room. “You come to me to deliver news of the outlanders, have you not?” “I have, my Regent.” Malgus stood, placing one hand squarely behind his back. “They are stationed deep in the wood outside of Tildanad. My scouts have found the tracks and can locate them at a moments notice, my lord.” “I would like you to bring them here, Malgus. Peacefully. I would like to converse with the outlanders and Delebor’s Haemonculus personally.” The regent said. “Understood, my lord. I will require a small regiment of twenty soldiers for this task. Supplies for the two week long trip can be procured by myself, sir.” The Inquisitor cut to the chase. “Twenty soldiers?!” The regent spat out. “Twenty, milord. The outlanders are dangerous and they have a Haemonculi in their possession. If reports from my brothers and sisters in the city is correct, it has no mask and could be dangerous.” “Why is a maskless Haemonculi a problem?” The regent asked, gesturing towards the onyx one next to him. “It is a Pearl-core Haemonculus. Very easily corrupted and very erratic. It could lose control at any time.” The inquisitor said. The Regent ran a hand through his beard several times, thinking heavily on the Inquisitor’s request. “Very well. Do as you must.” “Thank you, milord,” The inquisitor bowed and turned on his heel, heading out of the room. The Regent leaned over and beckoned the Onyx to bow to his hand. “Qeldon. Follow him. Make sure he performs his duties.” The Regent said. “Why do you employ him, milord?” The onyx asked in a deadpan whisper. “He is too dangerous. He will try to kill them.” “Because they might kill him and save me a war.” The Regent said bluntly.