It was a world he'd never heard of. A world seemingly of normalcy and peace, albeit based on a seriously pagan religion bastardized from an understanding of the Force, at least as far as he could see it. Islimore. He'd been drawn there by the Force and he had a sense it was for a purpose far greater than could be accomplished in a single visit. Hidden beneath the guise of normalcy was deep-seated malice that wafted from person to person. They were hiding something deep within themselves that wasn't easily nailed down, but it was impossible for him to ignore, even as the people were trying to put on a good face for the supposed Jedi in their midst. He didn't really try and dissuade that line of thinking. It was easier than explaining what he really was. He spent his first day inside of Blackbrook. It was crowded, far too much for him. Being from a world with small population centers, one such as this was always an adjustment for him. He was able to get past the anxiety after a quick time, which allowed him to get out and about and put an ear to the ground, so to speak. It lead him quickly to the conclusion that his previous assumptions were correct and there was something deeply amiss. Not least of the problems was their religion. It made them, in a way, more volatile than should be. If they recognized their original following and the connection to the Force. But, that was not a problem one could easily remedy, especially in a single visit.
But there was a greater problem. One he couldn't quite put his finger on. But the more he snooped about, the more he was able to ascertain it was something that didn't involve the city and the people in it. At least not directly. They were involved in the acquirement of the service, but after that, it wasn't in their hands. A good way to make one feel as though they had clean hands, having someone else do their dirty work. He would have hated them for it in his earlier days. It reminded him too much of being used by the Empire when he was living on Oaken Dawn. But again, he had to get to the route of the problem before he could solve it. To do that, he had to leave the city.
They left at night. Why he didn't know. Perhaps they just didn't want to be seen. Either way, he had no trouble following them. They weren't trying to cover their tracks, at least not at first. Whatever it was they were up to, it was clear they were more interested in hiding from something outside of the city instead. Barrien thought they must be hunters, but the equipment they kept implied some sort of trapper. What could someone be trapping that would require secrecy? Other sentient beings, perhaps? But to what end? The sense of malice he'd felt from the people suggested extermination but he had a hard time believing anyone could be so callous as to desire to wipe out a species. He knew people like that existed, but a whole planet of them? Unlikely.
And yet, after following them deep into the wood, he discovered the traps they set quite by accident. He nearly stepped into a well-hidden foothold. Not the simple variety, either, but the kind with razor-sharp teeth meant to inflict a large amount of pain while keeping their target stuck in place. This he tripped before taking the trap and tossing it into a nearby stream where it was likely not to be found. Even if they weren't trapping sentient beings, he would not allow anyone to harm another being so long as he had a choice in the matter.
The trap disposed of, he snuck up on the group of trappers after having spent a day away from them, searching the nearby country. In so doing he found the horrors of what they were doing. Pelts of size he had not seen, and worst of all, a man chained to a tree, his flesh rent, chest rising and falling with raspy breath signaling he wasn't far off from death. The trappers themselves were ignoring him, laughing and enjoying a cold meal. No fire here. They were keen on staying hidden, though he had a suspicion they hadn't done that well. Especially given that they'd allowed him to track them down. Others would too if they tried.
He stole around the perimeter of the camp, approaching from behind the injured man. Stepping to his side, he placed a hand upon his flesh, warm to the touch and covered in perspiration. Through the hand, he infused the man with the Force, beginning the process of healing him. As he did, he called out to the man's captors.
"I would very much like to know why you have this man strung up, in a condition that indicates torture," he said, his voice cool and collected, polished armor gleaming in what light filtered through the trees. "I cannot allow this to continue."
The group jumped to their feet, brandishing weapons. He erected a barrier between them.
"Those will be quite ineffective here, I assure you. Now, who wants to explain?"
