Into the darkness they go

[Armand Temi]

Perla Pirjo, Bleeding Sun acolyte and Dathomir witch exile, was minding her own business in the subterranean level of the Imperial Dungeons. She had just finished feeding her bull rancor a near-starved prisoner as well as a couple of meaty goats when she was summoned to the Palace by [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]'s newest cultural adviser, Raknar Myles. In order to be more presentable, she took a quick shower in the one of the unoccupied refreshers used by the dungeon guards, put her loose black dress back on, and made her way to the Imperial Palace.

Raknar met her in Pellaeon Garden and said, "As the cultural adviser, the Host Lord has asked me to give a tour of the Imperial Dungeons to one of our finest warriors, a Firrerreo named [member="Vheissu Ireles"]. I am too busy for this assignment," he said as he held a pair gardening shears in his thin hands. He snipped a rose from its thorny branch with delight.

"But isn't that your job?" Perla asked him with her arms crossed.

"Yes, but as a higher member of this court I am assigning this job to you. Don't disappoint me," he said, going back to his gardening.

What a sniveling parasitic man, Perla thought looking at his scrawny, pale frame as he sat there and clipped his flowers while Perla did his dirty work for him. She had her own projects as well and sending her off on this mission as a tour guide to the prison was a chore well beneath her skill set. But she didn't want her unwillingness to get back to the Host Lord so she turned to go. As she was almost out of earshot, he added, "Oh and be a dear, and keep an eye on the Prison Warden while you're there. I've been getting negative reports about him. Just find out if he's up to anything suspicious, would you?" Great, now she had to be a nanny to the prison warden. She hexed Raknar Myles under her breath with a witch's curse.

The Dathomir exile sullenly made her way back to the Imperial Dungeons and stood at the gates, careful not to get close to the live electro-fence which surrounded the 37 acres of the prison complex and would assuredly give a critical shock to anyone who touched it. She awaited the arrival of this mysterious warrior who was unknown to the witch initiate.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"] [member="Venris Helion"] [member="Dara Gola"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Years ago a warrior had popped up in Wild Space, a simple man for all intents and purposes, a man who had a few objectives in his life and would do many a thing to complete them. No, complication was not even an idea broadened upon his horizon, complication were the foundations of civilization- a needlessly complicated affair that hinged upon decadence and corruption.

A long time ago Ireles had decided to move away from that, to try and attempt things differently and so it was that he had offered the kindling of his flame in service of the Marches.

And for many a year it had been his flame which had burned brightest, killing, ransacking and generally doing everything in his power to accomplish the stipulations of the Crusade. Not because of misguided belief, of course.

Vheissu believed in many things, but the Gods of the Primeval were not amongst those beliefs and neither was no supposed God-Emperor of the Reaches. Blood was blood though, and few other nations around these lands had need for the kind of business he did.

The One Sith… too much hinged upon improper dogma, so strict and chockingly bureaucratic. The Fringe, now that was a name that filled him with feelings, strange that.

And what of today?

Today he was receiving a tour, which confused him slightly. That confusment seized to exist when his eyes met the frame of his would-be tour guide.

It seemed that the Gods had given him a woman for his troubles during the crusades, and there was nothing confusing about that.

The unknown warrior approached [member="Perla Pirjo"] without saying anything much, talking wasn’t part of his favorite pastimes.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla gazed upon the warrior and thought, the Winged Goddess has blessed me with good fortune today. Although she felt a slight tremble in her legs as he approached, with cat-like grace she recovered and walked over to meet him. He would see that the upper bodice of her black dress, while loose at the bottom, was form-fitting and slightly revealing.

Spoiler

Hailing from the Great Canyon Clan of Dathomir, Perla was used to wide, open plains and the blazing sun. Her time on Bastion had paled her skin and had allowed her to put more meat on her bones, but she was still muscular, barefoot and didn’t care much for court clothing. It was probably why most of the Primeval thought she was little more than the rancor keeper.

She didn’t know much about the Firrerreo except that, like Dathomirans, they were a tribal, warring race also separated into clans. And for a moment, looking upon this sturdy warrior made her suddenly homesick for her home-planet, but since she had been exiled and could not go return, this was an unobtainable reality and therefore a fleeting thought.

“You must be Vheissu,” she said to him. “My name is Perla.” He seemed almost as confused as she did as to why either of them were touring the detention facility. Perla was familiar with it already because Xana was there, but perhaps the warrior was going to be a trainer for the prisoners that the Primeval turned into soldiers. Yes, that must be it, she thought. In any case, she turned around and gave him a glance over her shoulder.

“Come this way,” she said and then she walked forward, pointing out the prison defenses. “In addition to the defense turrets, there are droids and armored guards who are stationed around the perimeter of the Dungeons to prevent escape.” He would notice that some of the sentries held onto giant, black bull mastiffs who snarled and strained at their leashes as they walked by. Perla nodded to one of the guards and he let her through the entrance gate.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

It didn’t seem as if Vheissu was very interested in the defenses of the prison, at least not when you took in where his attention was focused- which was entirely centered around Pirjo’s movements, his eyes wandered and he could almost hear her heart beating softly in her chest, mesmerizing and equally sobering.

This proved that the Primeval did hold to its promises, he followed her deeper into the prison itself, barely listening to her words and instead pondering on why she was putting up such a charade.

Was she testing him? Waiting for him to claim her as his? Or was this some elaborate ritual that the women of the Primeval heeded during times such as these? Difficult to disconcern where culture began and intent ended.

They passed an enclave, and it was there that Ireles decided that it was enough.

‘Perla.’

His voice sounded heated, more a growl than anything resembling humanity, there was emotion in there and passion, a need that needed to be fulfilled but never would. And when she would turn around, she would notice that he was suddenly so much closer than before.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla felt distinctly like prey being tracked by a savvy hunter as she lead Vheissu through the entrance gates and into the prison interior. In the very front part of the dungeons, guards cleared newcomers for entry, quickly searching them for weapons or contraband. They also checked in any incoming prisoners which was a much rougher experience than either Primeval warriors would witness. They would hear the firm orders of the guards juxtaposed with various other sounds of misery – shouts, sobs, moans, and the babbling of madness - coming from deeper inside the dungeons.

“Where is the Warden?” she asked one of the guards who only grunted out an unintelligible answer. He must be in his office or perhaps walking the grounds somewhere, she thought. But normally he was near the prison entrance to help oversee the new arrivals process. Keeping an eye on him would be hard when I can't even find him, she thought.

Vheissu was following along wordlessly for the most part until she heard her name being growled as they passed a secluded passageway which opened into an enclave that didn’t appear to be used for much. Although on the wall near to them hung various instruments of suppression – a stun baton, a shock collar, a neuronic whip and several other hand-held weapons. Nothing that would immediately kill a being as the stronger weapons like rifles and vibroblades were kept far away from the prisoners in a small and well-protected armory for the guards.

And then suddenly the Firrerreo was so close to her, Perla could see what a muscular specimen he was and thank the Daughters of Allya for that because most of the Primeval skulked around the grounds in their billowing robes with sunken eyes and the palest of skin. Feeling the heat from his body pressing in, she backed up against the stone wall, her dark eyes flashing with intrigue and a slight defiance. She could almost hear Raknar’s sniveling voice in her head, promising her to this warrior as some kind of gift for his bravery in battle. At least that is how it seemed to be as the immense warrior's body language was unmistakable. It would have been nice to be warned of this ahead of time, thought Perla. But the witch was no ordinary slave girl to be passed around like a flagon of ale. The raven-haired beauty was a seasoned combatant and warrior in her own right. She had once killed male bull rancor – the largest and most aggressive of the species - using only a bevii'ragir. Oh, she wanted the gold-skinned Firrerroe, yes. Her come-hither eyes and open mouth, coupled with the way she wriggled against the wall would show him that. But Perla also let out a huff through her nose as a challenge to Vheissu that she was very familiar with the ways of a huntress. If he was about to take her, he was going to have to spar her first, and her hand slipped up the wall, landing on the handle of neuronic whip.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

She challenged him and his right, his lips curled up into a snarl as the animal took over, flames smoldering inside of him and wanting to come out and play. But that wasn’t the way to go around this, he wouldn’t want to burn his prize, now would he? Barely containing himself from leaping at her, Ireles allowed himself to look and feel the intention flowing out of her.

Search for an advantage by grabbing a weapon, smart. No screams, desire, heat, passion. She wants this as much as I do.

Vheissu waited, pondered, as patient as any hunter would be for its prey. The opportunity would c- there! Just as she shifted her weight, just as she blinked and would lose her sight of him Vheis would jump at her, leaping in an attempt to get at her.

She would be his.

 

[Armand Temi]

The Firrerreo warrior crouched and sprung, similar to a great plains cat or a Ssurian dragon on the Dathomir plains. At the same time Perla, with a grunt, swung the neuronic whip at his chest. She couldn’t dodge him because she was backed up against the cold stone wall. She also didn’t really want to hurt him - well only a little to bring him to heel - but if she did, Perla planned to help patch up his wounds later with herbal salves that she kept in her own quarters. She hoped their sudden sparring wouldn't catch the attention of the guards. The last thing she needed right now was to be locked up in the Imperial Dungeons for their sudden display of violence. Fighting like this in the dungeons could be seen as inciting the prisoners after all. Otherwise she would be screaming at the top of her lungs like a banshee.

But the witch-warrior she was, Perla would not yield easily. While Vheissu had likely killed more men and even woman than the witch initiate, she had hunted, killed, even tanned and salted a variety of creatures when she was in the Great Canyon Clan so many years ago. Also even though Perla had no training in the Force, and the Nightsister magic she occasionally used was unpredictable, he would be able to feel that she had a powerful aura, one that if finally tamed, could do intense damage.

The electric cable lashed against Vheissu's impressive chest and would be enough to split his golden skin and cause him a great, howling pain. But due to his huge size and his battlescarred torso she had a feeling the Firrerro had quite a high pain tolerance. If he wasn’t dettered by her unusual attempt at foreplay, she thought she may show him the torture chambers later.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

There had been a distinct reason why Vheissu had decided to jump at her, in lieu of waiting until she attacked him with that whip first, which became apparent the moment the whip came in contact with his chest and burned into the skin, sizzling the hide and excreting smoke.

A neuronic whip had a two-way street work, one part the electric jolt that felt like when a man punches you in the nethers and two part the heavy cable capable of breaking bones- the later had been avoided, simply because of the leap, which had disallowed her from gathering the sheer kinetic force necessary for an action such as that.

Which only left the warrior to deal with was the intense pain that came from the jolt, his teeth pressed against each other as he hissed and their bodies clashed. His mass against her tender flesh and her back firmly against the wall.

His hand wrapped around the arm that held the whip and Vheis would press down, forcing her to let go off the impressive weapon. The warrior would decrease the distance between his face and hers even more, by leaning in and whispering in her ear.

‘Done? Or more.’

And then Ireles waited.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla could smell the sizzling flesh of the Firrerreo as he stoically absorbed the blow from the neuronic whip. And next as he pressed against her writhing figure, trapping her between his torso and the wall, she felt the heat, not only from his taut body, but from the superficial wound on his chest.

He squeezed her wrist painfully tight and the witch cursed in Paecian, a string of unforgiving insults toward Vheissu. Her fingers helplessly released the whip handle. When she felt his hot breath tickling her ear and whispering the words, "Done? Or More." she wanted to just submit and have him ravish her right there against the wall. Perla found an urgency rising up in her legs and her belly, and breathing heavily, she closed her eyes and tried to suppress her lust for the warrior. Because to her, this intimate dance was all part of the mating ritual between witch and maleling as she was used to on her home planet. But normally it was Perla who was doing the bullying of some hapless dimwitted Dathmorian male. She was not used to the sheer size and strength of her amorous rival, nor was she used to such animal ferocity from a male. But the stubborn huntress in her wouldn’t give in and she looked him straight in his amber eyes and said, “More.”

With the other hand that wasn’t held in a muscular vice grip, she lunged for and grabbed the stun baton off of the wall behind them. With a flick of her finger, Perla activated the power pack and thrust it at his shoulder.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

A whip could be endured, a short-range electric shock made to paralyze humans? Pure technically Ireles wasn’t a human and wasn’t exactly average in terms of the physical dimensions, which gave him more chances on accepting the pain and keep on with the affair of the day.

But he wouldn’t have been an able fighter if he took risks that weren’t necessary to take, his other hand lashed out, skin heating up and as his hand wrapped around the stun baton-wielding arm, she would feel her own skin burning up under his touch.

Squeezing down, he would force her to drop the baton and then grab her by the throat, maybe. If she would let go, of course.

Then… Vheissu would kiss her.

Do not question the rituals of the barbarian tribes of the North, they were far too complicated to truly appreciate by mere human beings and such.

 

[Armand Temi]

Vheissu began to exhibit traits that made the witch initiate see why he was so valuable to the Primeval forces. Even though the stun baton connected with its target, and she could tell by the grit of his teeth and the pain visible in his eyes that he was in quite a bit of agony, he managed to reach out and grab her other arm and promptly scorched her flesh as though fire was licking up her elbow and rushing to her hand. How he had endured the shock of the electric baton was impressive. His skin had turned almost a silvery color which signified he was angry or perhaps it was the frustration of a different kind.

She let out a yelp of pain and dropped the baton, her fingers splayed out against the wall. He had both of her hands now pinned and Perla thrashed around trying to free herself until in the blink of an eye, his immense paw of hand clasped tightly around her throat. She considered clawing at her chest until his lips connected with her and all the power drained out of her as though she were a sieve. Like everything else about Vheissu, his kiss was animalistic and rough. With her tongue she could feel his sharp canine incisors and she shuddered under his vice-like grip. His skin was so hot it almost burned her lips to kiss him but it was a delicious kind of pain. To show her appreciation of his lust, Perla reached up with her strong hands and raked her nails down his broad chest. She was no longer worried of hurting him at all, after seeing what type of pain the warrior was able to withstand.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]