First Reply Hunters and Hunted

[Vulpesen]

Veradune had recovered. Well and truly, it had become a power in the galaxy rather than some backwater decrepit ball of ruins. With that came a host of boons. Mercantile success, military secuirity, and cultural exchange. But among those boons came a challenges that the Valde and his agents needed to remain ever vigilant for. One such challenge, was the spread of the Wilders, or more specifically, the blight sects that came from them. Unlike the jedi, the Wilders were a disorganized band of force users, each sect having its own unique beliefs and traditions. Arch-Wilders like Vulpesen merely formed a loose congress of guidance that kept them on a path of balance. However, when that balance was disregarded, or blatantly attacked by a sect, that sect became a blight.

Before, those blights had been a problem unique to Veradune. Now, with the spread of Veradune's traditions, its wilders had descended upon other planets, both orthodox sects and blighted ones. The Tenevi Order, in charge of Veradune's intelligence, had gotten word of one such blight and passed it onto the Archon council. As both the head of the planet, and an Archon himself, Vulpesen, by agreement of the council, been sent to deal with the problem personally.

Anobis was a simple, planet, but lately, its farmers had been going missing. Planetary security forces sent to investigate had met the same fate. What had gathered the Tenevi's interest was the fact that for every man and woman missing, there had been a corresponding increase in wild livestock. Nerfs and ghoats had been seen wandering from the forest with abnormal signs of distress. Odder still, their skin and fur patterns were unique, almost as if they wearing clothes... or uniforms.

 

[Garo Walduel]

The landing gear to Garos ship touches ground, settling the hull with a slight jostle. Garo thanks his pilot, collects his things, and makes his way out of the transport, taking in the new atmosphere. He had never been to Veradune before today. Something about it strikes him as a tad familiar-feeling. Like when you have deja vu, but cannot for the life of you place why you think you remember it.

Garo is a private investigator, ex-ISB. Just a couple of days ago, he was contacted by one of the locals on the planet, who explained that they obtained Garos information through somebodys' brothers', friends', uncle that Garo had helped out on Coruscant- or some long winded story like that...

They also went on to explain why they were calling. Their father had gone missing, along with several others around the area. And despite the efforts of local and official authority- nothing has really been found, nothing turned up.

At first, Garo thought about simply passing the job by, paying no mind to the desperate request thrown at him out of the blue. But something about it ate at him after the call... The thought of so many residents disappearing without a trace, never to be seen again. The mystery of it all alone began to intrigue Garo to proportions even he was beginning to struggle keeping ahold of. So naturally, a couple hours after the initial call was made, a second one was returned- and Garo accepted the job.

Now here he stands, the wind of the planet blowing through his hair as he observes the landscape around him. He pulls a cigarette from his jacket, and snaps his fingers. As he does so, his thumb pops open on a hinge at the top knuckle, revealing a plasma lighter underneath- lit and ready for use. He ignites the tip of his smoke and takes a deep drag, walking the rest of the way down the drop-ramp and taking his first steps onto this foreign soil.

First order of business is to find some sort of headquarters and report in- try to establish some sort of grounding in this place so he can at least have the comfort of a place to think. After walking around and asking a few locals, he is pointed to what he assumes is their City Hall, or at least something of the sort. He takes a ffew more drags from his smoke before he walks in, approaching the woman behind the front desk.

"Hey. I was called here to look into the missing persons cases, any chance you have any files on it, or could point me in the right direction of someone who might?"

His words are cold and monotonal, like some professor of monstrumology giving a lecture to a student.

"And I would appreciate a bit of pace- I am a busy man."

Vulpesen