Private Ceremonies Laid By

[Haliat Kryze]

Jenn Kryze

Location: Onderon Wilds

He’d been advised, and quite reasonably so, that the jungle was no place for an offworlder after nightfall. And Haliat Kryze was certainly inclined to heed the wisdom of the Beast Riders. He’d sought the people and their skills out of his own volition, after all, because while it was true that his people had come to Onderon in the past as invaders and even conquerors, the clans of the wild truly knew this world. Their ancestors had been cast out with nothing but the rags on their back from the safety of Iziz, to die in fear and pain. Instead, they had endured, tamed the very creatures which once preyed upon them at will, and built themselves a place in the natural order from literally nothing. And while those earliest days beyond the city walls were millennia ago, that legacy and the knowledge that came with it endured.

But skill had to work with the limitations that nature imposed even as it strove to overcome them. They had to sleep some time, the same as any noble who had never known a moment’s privation. And even when awake, they had to reckon with the reality that they were outmatched in the dark by this world’s more formidable predators. Within the confines of their villages, even those built on ground level, fire and palisades served as an effective barrier against hostile fauna prowling beneath the canopy while the canopy itself kept threats from the sky at bay until they could be faced on favorable terms.

But beyond that? That was a challenge only for the seasoned and the desperate.

Haliat had acknowledged all this, with thanks. But all the same, he had pointed out he was NOT an offworlder, not anymore. If the clan was to make this world their home, then they had to learn to be a part of it, with all the risk that came with it. And besides, he had far more than rags at his disposal, and the darkness might actually be of help to him. The beasts of this jungle had learned along with the human settlers, and they would have their expectations about the prey that walked about on two legs: crafty, but clumsy and half blind without the sun. Instead, they would find their prey had no soft skin exposed, could fly, and saw perfectly well in the dark with the help of a thermal/night vision overlay installed in the helmet. His only real concern was for his Vulpex, but Cya was no house pet. Her instincts were as sharp as his, and her senses a good deal more so. They both had to learn to thrive here, and they both would.

He HAD heeded another bit of advice the local clan had for him, though. When it became clear that Haliat intended to dive into the deep end of acclimatizing to this world, he’d been made privy to the existence and location of a cave in the area, one which offered shelter and a cache of supplies hidden away behind storage lockers too heavily reinforced for any animal capable of making it inside the space. Employing this refuge as a base of operations, he had just passed his second night out in the Onderonian wilds. Other than Cya as his constant companion, the only company in that time had served to keep his belly full, and this suited him fine.

And now, as the sun began its ascent through the sky, its light was visible through the canopy outside but only just. But Haliat had risen earlier, and now sat by the fire while a pitcher of black caf heated before him. He was considering something of a break from his explorations today, perhaps instead bringing something back to butcher and prepare that he might repay his use of the provisions by replenishing them in full. But these ruminations, as well as his vigil for the coffee to begin bubbling, were interrupted as Cya suddenly rose to her feet and began staring intently out past the cave mouth. And yet, whatever she had picked up on, she didn’t seem alarmed. Just…curious.

A few moments later, as less attuned human ears caught up, the canid’s curiosity was matched. Those were footsteps. Biped footsteps, and by a biped not lightly clad if he was any judge…which he frankly was. And when, at length, he got a visual to complement the sound, the new information did nothing to dampen his curiosity. When he spoke, his voice was as level as always, but the words followed a noted arch of his brow.

“Alor. You’ve come some way. Pray, sit.”

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Onderon Wilds
| Objective | Around the fire we spoke

As the Alor of Clan Kryze, Jenn was... an impossibly busy woman. Her warriors were, mercifully enough, more than capable of handling themselves without their matriarch micromanaging every aspect of their day-to-day life - but the burden of politics was an ever-present reminder of her duty. Time and time again, Jenn found herself confronted with the most frustrating of situations, chief among which being those when she was forced to deal with those Mandalorians who still held on to the old ways in stubborn refusal of the harsh reality surrounding them. Her latest visit to Mandalore had all but made confirmed her suspicions; she could not sway the rest of the Alors into adopting something even resembling a Reformist position.​

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All of that energy, she decided, was better spent on those who actually mattered. Rather than trying to force her head through a brick wall with endless arguments, Jenn gave herself some quality time to spend with the Clan, from apprentices taking their first steps into the ancient art of smithing to the very best duelists among the many skilled warriors who yet followed her. She listened to their worries, exchanged some banter, and left most conversations with a feeling of contentment. This was no idle posturing, but a genuine attempt on her part to connect with her warriors; to remind them that she would not let the mantle of Alor cast a divide between herself and the more humble among them.​

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No surprise, then, that she sought to form a more meaningful connection with the more recent additions to the ranks - those who heeded her call to war prior to the retaking of Onderon, and chose to remain after the dust settled. Some among them ultimately decided to part ways with her, heading on over to join the larger organization of the Mandalorian Protectors, whereas others returned to a solitary life of mercenary work.​

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Haliat Kryze fit neither of those cases.​

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Unlike many in the Clan, he bore the name Kryze long before joining forces with her, making him her kindred - something that titillated her curiosity. Few were those who had survived the Clan's many misfortunes since the excision of Mandalore, and the two of them had only exchanged enough to guarantee his loyalty for the immediate future; with the battle looming ahead, there was simply no time to discuss the many philosophical intricacies of duty and honor. But now... oh, now, she had time to spare, and she would make good use of it.​

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The locals had been all too glad to direct her towards the intrepid man's last known location, for he had left something of an impression on them through his bold ventures into the wilderness. Untrained as the Alor may be in the ways of the Force, following the signature of the only person to have passed through the jungle was hardly a difficult affair, allowing her to close in on him easily enough. She was expected, of course, and, in truth, she would have expected nothing less of him. Answering his greeting with an upnod, the Ersansyr walked on over to sit by the fire, lazily removing her helmet with that characteristic hiss of depressurization.​

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Placing the helmet down by her side, she turned her gaze towards him, those piercing gray eyes of hers living up to the Jaig Eyes etched unto her buy'ce. Holding that gaze was a difficult proposition for most, averting their eyes from the sheer intensity of the Alor's scrutiny. Soon, however, her expression softened, and she offered him a small, but no less meaningful smile.​

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"That I have, although I think the journey will be well worth it. Far be it from me to judge you for your decision to remain in the wilds for now, but... I couldn't help but notice your absence from the the Clangrounds currently being built in the highlands. I recall your curiosity when we last met, before the liberation of our new home. I've come to sate it."​

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Haliat Kryze ​

 

[Haliat Kryze]

Jenn Kryze

It was true enough, he had been a bit of a stranger, these last few days in particular. Force of habit, perhaps, but his purpose here was still to contribute to the settlement after a fashion. The hope was, as always, to build something that would last, and the only thing which made this endeavor particularly unique was that they were not trying to simply go it alone. They were sharing this planet, by hard earned invitation, and history would have many fearing it was a mistake to let them back in after the blood shed to dislodge them in ancient days. They couldn't afford that, so here he was, showing respect as he worked to earn theirs in turn.

He could have explained this. It might even have sounded poetic, in a way. Something about stone and mortar alone not being enough to endure, perhaps. But that would have been a defense of his action, and no criticism had been levelled. Jenn had literally said as much, and so he simply met that intense gaze and nodded his acknowledgement. Then, he did so again when she spoke of his curiosity, for he recalled that as well. He had resolved to assist the liberation of Onderon because he judged the errand worthy, and he had remained because he wondered if he would feel the same about what followed. What lessons had Jenn Kryze gleaned from their brutal history to carry forward into the future...and what was she content to leave behind?

The last bit, of course, did merit an actual response. The clan chieftain had hardly needed to make this trek; he had told her in no uncertain terms that he was at her service until one of them should resolve otherwise, and that certainly extended so far as answering his comm. That she had instead made this journey to seek him out, in spite of it being well within her rights to simply send for him, was quite the gesture. And its significance was not lost on him.

His response was delayed only briefly by a faint and almost musical ringing off to his right, and he looked down to see Cya pacing a few steps back and forth, sniffing the air between herself and Jenn tentatively. He wouldn't precisely call his companion's hackles raised, but it was evident the Vulpex had yet to decide precisely what to make of the newcomer. Fair enough, he mused with a faint smile. The creature which had entered into their sanctuary surely was dangerous. Offering an affectionate scratch behind the ears by way of reassurance, he then came back to the conversation.

"I will hear your words, of course. But if you're here for my benefit, then a service is rendered, at real peril, and a debt incurred."

With that, Haliat reached out to his side, and produced a simple metal cup which he held by the base and presented it with the plastic carrying handle facing toward the Alor. It was the only vessel he had at hand, unless he should unpack a bowl from his mess kit, but he was in no danger of lapsing back into slumber, and thus content to wait. The stimulant effect of the pot's contents would certainly be put to good use, but it was frankly more for its calming effect that he esteemed the beverage. It was a ritual of sorts to start his day, one of few luxuries he allowed himself. And it was good, at least to those who enjoyed coffee. He'd already left some in the supply cache as thanks, and now he offered it again.

"You've my blade already. But I can add my hospitality."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Haliat's Fire
| Objective | Speak and reminisce

Jenn was not quite the dour leader some thought her to be, and yet... her features certainly betrayed a profound weariness. Taking some time aside for herself was all but impossible, given the state of Clan Kryze, Onderon, and the Galaxy at large - and the Alor was, if nothing else, thoroughly committed to her duty. She had sacrificed so much for it, from her freedom to the tender love she shared with her cyare; and yet she kept on giving more and more of herself, her devotion to those who followed her seemingly without bounds. It was this tireless (or, more accurately, ever-tired) dedication that won her the allegiance of so many warriors from all walks of life. Here was a woman who never rejected the responsibility that came with the mantle of leadership, and ever-sought to keep herself humble. In touch with her warriors.​

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"I have a hundred blades sworn to my name, Haliat", remarked the Alor nonchalantly - even as she reached to take the cup offered to her with a grateful nod. Coffee wasn't really her strong suit, but she had always been a good guest, and today would not be the day she broke that lifelong tradition. Hell, there were a few times she had been a guest to the Sith! Even now, she looked back to those memories with... an undeniable sense of fondness, even as she stood as a resolute warrior of the Light. Darth Metus ' hold of Netrayaim and the tales he told her of the Mandalore that once was had commanded her respect then, and it still held it now - to say nothing of the relative comfort brought to her by her reunion with Alina Tremiru on Dromund Kaas. This war might very well just bring them to face one another in battle, she accepted that much, and yet... she could not find it in herself to regret the warmth behind the words they had shared. The casual nature of it all. The mutual respect between two women who knew the strength of the other.​

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A smile pulled at her lips. Simpler times, weren't they? Back before she found herself tossed headlong into a war she never wanted for the sake of those she thought to be her own people, yet revealed themselves as nothing more than brigands.​

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She sipped from the cup of coffee, then, if only to busy her hands. There was no use in lingering on what had been, and never would be again. Her future was inextricably tied to the Light, now, and she would have it no other way. Her growth since those early days of bloodthirst and zealotry had been monumental, and so had the type of friendships she maintained.​

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"I am never afraid to use those blades in a righteous struggle. They are the extension of my will, every last one of them- every last one of you. But I never let them be wasted; I look after them all, no matter how humble or grand. But, to answer your question- yes, I have come for your benefit, and your hospitality is certainly appreciated. Now... I would hear your questions, and answer them as best as I can. If I remember right, you mentioned being a son of the Clan, long before I took the mantle of leadership, mh? I imagine you must find this latest incarnation to be... different, from your memories."​

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Haliat Kryze ​