Into the Deep | CIS Dominion of Roon (Y,48)

[Ascendant Muse]

R O O N​

Templar Sanctum
Local Time: 2027 Hours

Decades ago, when Roon was the crown of the Southern Systems, an archaic congregation devoted themselves to the defense of its people. They cared not for where one stood in the Force, but rather used everything at their disposal to make the lives of the citizenry better. These selfless defenders - the Templar Order - were always but a stone’s throw away from those in need. They erected for themselves mighty Sanctums: fortresses that were a refuge to the meek and a place of learning for their midst. In times of trouble, the people of Roon could look upon these walls and know that they would be saved.

But the greatest gift the Order gave to their people was the Templar’s Well. Miles below the earth did they leave this boon - a chalice which blessed the earth with the Force. By this touch, vibrance could spring from even tainted ground. With this gift, the people of Roon would never hunger. Never struggle.

But when the Templar Order was hunted to extinction, all that remained was their refuge. The Well went silent. As these things often went, national instability led to blame. Blame led to conflict. And the first modern Confederacy devolved into a shadow of its former self. The Templar Order, which dared stand against the fiery change, was swiftly put to the sword.

And Roon was left bereft of her staunch guardians.

But in the modern day, the benevolence of the fallen order broke. As the modern Confederacy returned to the Southern Systems, so too did the survivors of the Templar massacre. So too did the original defenders of Roon and her people. Under the cover of shadow, they crept back into their mighty Sanctum and delved deep into the caverns. They reclaimed the Well and, by the sacrifice of their own lives, poured their malice into the earth. By their final doom was Roon made to suffer...and by extension, the ever-expanding Confederacy would have to struggle. Day and night, horrors began to rise from the caverns underneath the Sanctum. Those who dared venture close to the refuge were never seen from again.

Flocks were found torn to pieces. Their protectors claimed monstrosities dragged their victims into the dirt. The ground yielded no fruit. The water tasted of ash. And with each passing day, the situation grew ever more dire. But the people of Roon were not forgotten. The Confederacy returned to right the error of its predecessor and dispatched its greatest to the planet’s surface. The Sanctum would be restored and the Well made silent once more.

And the Templar Order would again know rest.

Spoiler: Objectives

It is the first night of the Confederacy’s expedition to Roon. Supplies have been unloaded throughout the day and the time has come to breathe. Most have come fresh from the operation on Felacat, and now is the first time in days that there is truly an opportunity to relax. While yet another expedition braves the dark below, a sizeable number of the personnel have gathered in the Great Hall to share a breath of fresh air. Though the spread is not as glamorous as that of Naboo, the liquor yet flows and the food is yet delicious. Eat! Drink! And Explore the former home of the Templar Order!

It is the first night of the Confederacy’s expedition to Roon. And the time has come for you to brave the dark below. For hours on end, teams of droids have cleared paths that have been caved in - and now the opportunity is at hand. For those sensitive to the Force, every step into the blighted caverns reeks of the Dark Side. Terrifying creatures lie in wait to impede your path, but the goal remains the same: cut down all resistance, silence the Templar’s Well, and bring peace back to Roon.

Spoiler: Tag

[member="Adron Malvern"]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alexandrite"]
[member="Alvarex Zambrano"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst"] Sovereign
[member="Andi Americus"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Archim Calixis"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Arlox"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Azmodan"]
[member="Betty Americus"]
[member="Billy"] Americus
[member="Braan Kell"]
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Carith Thelcar"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Daniel Americus"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Rixas"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Zurvan"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Derek Dib"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Hadashah Vi'dreya"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Verd"]
[member="Jade Isara"]
@Jasmine Zittoun
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katria Vekarr"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kilia"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Lady Psyona"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Natasha Darkstar"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
@Popara the Great
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Sander Europa"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Sola Marr"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Umai"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Xenro"]
[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
[member="Zephyr Carrick"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Plains of Roon, Lit Side, Following a Bantha Herd​

Objective: Reach an acceptable deal with the Bantha Ur-Spirit​

​

Dhakarta had not spent as long on Felacat as some, this was truth. She'd been moved by her own objectives there. She did not fear to fight, not even the notoriously tough Trandoshans, but there had been an opportunity that could see such gain in the future for her newfound allies. And a jump in learning and capability for herself, and this too was important. Perhaps more so than liberating a people too weak or foolish to liberate themselves when surely evolution had given them all the tools they needed. But then, it was mayhap best that she did not lead, and it was certainly true that she did not have the complete picture of those who did, so no judgement was cast. Nor did it seem to have been cast back upon her, no one chided her for not showing up where she might have been expected. Perhaps if they knew what she'd done they waited to see the results of it. Well, so did she, so this was fair.

But, all this was reflections on yesterdays and tomorrows and none of it mattered in this moment. Today was, as yesterday had been, and the day before that, a matter of the now. The plains had not looked such a harsh environment, but she should not have trusted that first thought, Should have taken better account of her own inexperience in these matters. There had so far been no standing water, and unlike the herd she followed, she could not draw moisture from the rough grasses that grew here, nor did much else seem to grow. And the sun, always the sun. It had been pleasant at first, but it beat down mercilessly. No clouds scuttled over its face, no night fell, no trees here to cast shadow. Only unending seas of grass and sun. Had she been in come of her higher tech armour this would not have been a problem, a closed system it would have cooled her and recycled every drop of sweat. But this was not a matter for a warrior, for a Mandalorian. This was a matter for a witch, who was one with her surroundings.

And so she persisted, she followed. The pace was not particularly gruelling, but the endurance of the bantha was more than worthy of praise, they went and continued long past the time when a human would stop. Here they were not guided by such matters as night and day, since these concepts did not exist. They were guided only by the Bantha Matriarchs instincts, and so they walked long. It was somewhat humbling to know that here, her resources being stretched sorely, the pace was kept for the Bantha calves. It was the youngest and weakest among them that she suffered to emulate. In fairness to her, she weakened each day without water or food, and they kept on, as they always had, all over the galaxy, in their patient, stubborn way.

When finally the Matriarch sounded the call that she'd come to associate with the setting up of a temporary stop, she felt the relief flood over her. The male that followed behind her huffed impatiently and gave her a gentle nudge that nearly knocked her over, urging her into the middle, where the weak went. She was accepted, to a degree. None would seek her out for her company and this was fine, but instead of being the last, a predator trailing after them each day, the dominant male had decided that was, if only tenuously, part of the herd, and so he followed behind. And this she reckoned good.

Now if only the Ur-Spirit would see it so...

 

[Asher Mossa]

The courtyard was teaming with life. Asher waited for his mead, ale, or whatever else it was he was going to be getting. For the past many months he had been part of the Confederacy with no repurcussions. [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] may have been right after all. There was no curse, not for him. Even if there was, perhaps he had broken it.

The cup was placed in his hand, the contents blue... he sniffed it.

It smelled strong.

With a grin he knocked it the drink back like water, immediately regretting the decision. He should not have done that as it was burning like hot lava all the way down his throat. His stomach did not fair well either. Whatever it was, it was bad.

He shuddered as the glass was set back down, bottom tunred up. A couple of credits were tossed on the table as he walked off looking for something else to do. Maybe there were better drinks elsewhere, like whiskey or ale. If all else failed there was a team heading to the underground to root out the remaining resistance cells of the Templar Order. It was possibly a good day to bring death upon them all.

 

[Kyle Naktis]

Kyle Naktis stands at the entrance of the cave. His Hood up covering his eyes, a few strands of his blonde hair sticking out of the sides of his Hood. He looks down at his lightsabers making sure they are secure. He then raises both hands and out of each gauntlet springs out retractable Durasteel hidden blades. Kyle then retracts them and returns his hands to his side. Kyle knows he's here for the CIS, that much is clear. The place before him swarming in the darkside, he could feel it. It called out to him like an old friend greeting him. Kyle enjoyed this feeling, he longed for it. It felt amazing. Kyle tilted his head popping his neck then bounces a few times on his feet.

Kyle was waiting for the rest of the CIS Team that would be joining him. He didn't know what to think, he hardly knew these people, but they seemed like they could help him, and after all they did control his home planet, so to get along he has to go along. Question that really got to him, could his team mates handle whats inside the cave. Would they be consumed by the darkside, only time would tell. Kyle could sense the presence of his teammates arriving. Kyle begin clearing his mind and focusing on what stood ahead.

​

 

[Rylan Kordel]

​

Post: 1
Tags: [member="Luna Vega"]​

​

Landing the old YT series freighter on Roon, Rylan turned to the person who was acting as his co-pilot for the time being, the pirate woman not exactly being someone he'd have befriended, but they had each others backs on Felacat during the fury and the commotion that was the siege of the planet. "I don't know what you plan to do while we're here, but I'm going to get a drink..." he clapped his legs before standing up, he still wasn't sure how long he was going to have his blue haired companion around, but he figured for the mean time they could at least stay on friendly terms since he did help her out with the slavers, "You're welcome to join me if you want, first rounds on me."

With the offer out there, he left the cockpit, then moved down the ramp, and into the slightly crowded, but mostly quiet landing area that the Confederacy had taken occupation of on the planet, going to the first place that looked like a bar, he sat down at a seat and ordered two drinks of their best and waited as he placed the credits, time to see if he'd have company or not.

 

[Lirka Ka]

For 127 years, a near ludicrous number to many of the species of the Galaxy, had Lirka been alive. She had been so many things, a Princess in her earliest days, a vicious Pit-Fighter, a Bounty Hunter, Mercenary, Assassin, Enforcer, had trained among Anzati and lived to tell about it. But never once had she been around for a conquest, she wouldn't listen to any other jargon; what the Confederacy was doing on Roon was a conquest no matter how nice they wanted to make it sound. Of course, there may have been some truth to it. Because well, she hadn't fought a damn thing. And when someone works so many rough ended and violent jobs and well, not learn to just a love good brawl or bloodshed filled fight.

In fact, she felt too familiar and a place that held no familiarity to her. She sat, making some sad attempt at hiding herself away in her own little section of the place; Lirka was a particularly large woman when she wore her armor (though calling it just her second skin was more than accurate enough too) and of course with her frankly massive blade getting a seat of it's own as well as her rather exotic helmet placed on her table, it's cold eyes practically surveying the whole place. Judging them all as if it were alive.

Lirka herself could've cared less about the drink, it had booze in it, and the smell wasn't any different than a visit to Nar Shadda. Which, to her shame, had become much more common recently. Despite hooking herself in with the Mandalorian Protectors and the Confederacy as a whole she still went to that scumhole to go and find some work. Of course, that wasn't what bothered her today, She could feel force sensitives, her untrained and semi-sporadic force powers had little issue reaching out and feeling those among the semi-impressive crowd.

Lirka was far from a fan of other force sensitives, so many Force Cultists running around now, and her lack of ability made into a small beacon. She didn't know a single form of conceal power, her force sensitivity out for everyone to see, well, at least those who could actually sense her.

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Plains of Roon, Lit Side, Following a Bantha Herd
Objective: Reach an acceptable deal with the Bantha Ur-Spirit

As soon as she was within the herd enough to placate the Bull, she sank gratefully to the ground. Her body protested, crying out for sleep, if there was not to be the needed sustenance than surely the retreat to sleep could be allowed, the saving of what little resources physical and mental she had left. But it was not to be. This was all for a reason after all, a purpose.

Fingers dug into dry soil, eyes closed and spirit ichor rose in the air, surrounding her once more in it's green mist. It was easy, dangerously easy now to loose her spirit into the Other that was neither Here nor There. Her deprivations did not weigh on her here, life-strength was thick about her, in the very mist blanketed air she breathed.

"Bantha," she called, rising in this plane "Dhakarta of the Biding Muskeg Clan returns, and begs your attention."

A swirl in the mist. For long, long minutes nothing happened and there was no response. It was possible the Ur-Bantha had decided to simply ignore her rather than continue to deny her. Finally though, a great darkening in the mist, a giant shape approaching with the trademark sway of the Bantha.

"Still you follow. Your coat is not as shiny. Your cheeks are shallow. Your thin skin burns. When will you give in and leave."

"When I die, perhaps your children will put my bones with theirs. There would be honour in that."

"You will turn back."

"I will not. None of the Biding Muskeg has ever turned back, though it led to our deaths. I am the last, and if this is to be my death, then it will be."

The Ur-Spirit looked discomfited by this. It was not the first time they had had this conversation, or a facsimile of it. Dhakarta felt she was coming to come understanding of it. No mortal could ever truly understand an Ur-Spirit of course, to claim or even think that was hubris of the highest order. But she was coming to some understanding. partially from these meetings, but partially also from her endless days walking with the herd. Watching the Matriarch lead, pushing the others, judging capabilities. Watching the Patriarch, trailing behind, making sure none were lost of left behind, watching out for and being most exposed to predators. And her esteem grew. In truth she'd once seen bantha as simply a source of food. Occasional beast of burden or mount for others. But they persisted. Cold. Heat. Drought. Starvation. They persisted. And was this not to be emulated, to be learned, to be respected?

Dhakarta wanted not just the human learning of such a thing, but the boon of the Ur-Spirit. Thus far denied to her. Was it bluff to say she would accept the quiet death the plains offered her if she went on as she was? Hard to say. One couldn't lie to an Ur-Spirit. Not and expect to be able to call upon any of them. Certainly it was not the death she had pictured for herself, but when mortals dared to pit their wills against that of the Spirits, there could only be total commitment or failure. All or nothing, and trust to the spirits.

"Your own herd is waiting, are they not?"

"My Clan is dead, this you know. Of my new allies.. They know me less than the herd that watches my body now. I could be of use to them, this is true, but they do not wait, they would not mourn nor carry my bones."

Again the Ur-Spirit seemed taken aback. What after all was a Bantha without a herd? This one was alone as all Ur-Spirits were of course, but it had every bantha in the galaxy to watch over, to be a part of.

"I do not understand." it said finally.

"This is my fault, ask Great One, and I will clarify as best as I am able."

"Alone you will die, what point asking for my boon, perhaps dying on the plain where my children would care for your bones is kinder."

Dhakarta considered this, turning it around, and found truth within it, but what human ever held only one truth in their hearts?

"I hope. I am many natured, not pure of spirit like a beast. Part of me would agree with you. My Clan is dead, my people betrayed me. I have no true ties. Part of me, part that bleeds for all those I have lost and all those who denied themselves to me, that part might welcome such a death. But another part looks forward and hopes. A new herd, and new Clan could rise, I could give my heart truly to an existing one. There are some futures where I am not alone, but the galaxy is dark and unfriendly, and I must be strong to reach that point, and stronger still to keep it. I must be the Matriarch, looking forward, going to where life can be found, where I can live truly, and I must be the Patriarch, who protects and ensures that none are left behind. There is no human Ur-Spirit for me to appeal to. Perhaps because we have lost purity of purpose, because we are many natured. So I approach you, and your kind, and beg your boon, that my Hope, fragile though it is, might live with me."

"...I will consider this. Go away."

And the Ur-Spirit was gone, not moving away, just gone.

One spoke to the Spirits on their own terms, and so Dhakarta opened her eyes in the Here, leaving the Other behind, feeling the exhaustion seep back into her being as the ichor dissipated in the air. But she smiled and considered it will done. Laying back, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to sleep, under the sun on a planet so far from her own.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Objective: whatever
Wearing: nondescript jeans, black t, combat boots
Wielding: two vibroswords, 10 Czerka knives, 5 glitter bullets
Tags: n/a
Post: 1

You are weak, child.

Scherezade stood in the caverns of Roon, unmoving. She sensed the presence of the Darkside long before her foot stepped on the planet, and it wasn't long before she found her way to the caverns, knowing this was the root of it.

Until a short while ago, she would have relished in the sensations of it, bathed as the Darkside washed over her, gone to find the monsters that lurked in order to kill them.

Now...

Now things had changed. After too many nights of not sleeping, after too many discussions with a friend about the Darkside, about her home planet, she no longer felt like the Sithling she was. She didn't feel like a Sith of any kind at all. The Darkside here felt like a stranger to her, like something that had decided to spit her out like other people and places in her short life.

She couldn't go back to her ancestral planet. Now, it seemed like she couldn't bathe in the Darkside as she once had with glee.

Scherezade stood, a mere few feet inside from the entrance, and just stared.

You are weak, child.

All she could do was nod. The Darkness had always been right, about everything. She didn't understand why it kept trying to pull her in, kept trying to lay its claim on her again. But it did. Constantly. She could feel it pulsing in the back of her mind, calling her to be injured again or to sleep, just so it could embrace her. It didn't matter that it terrified her, that it was the main reason for her not having slept since the horrible night that she thought she had broken free of it.

People were coming, swarming. She could feel it. Soon she would not be alone here. Scherezade swallowed hard and took a few steps to the side so she would not block anyone, and closed her eyes, frantically looking for that link to the Darkside that felt like it no longer wanted her.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Roon. The world brought so many memories back to Daxton Bane, memories he would prefer not to dwell on. He remembered the time before the Fall, the time of great abundance. He wondered, would the people still remember him or was he like the past all dead to them. Not that it really mattered, in the end everyone dies alone.

While he was not looking for company, he would not turn them away, as he swept the horizon one more time with his macrobinoculars, checking to see if any signs of life before proceeding forward and breaching the Fortress that housed the Well.

You could be drinking yourself into oblivion, he chided himself, instead of painfully delving into what should remain forgotten. But rather than let the specters of the past haunt him, the Sith Lord preferred to lay them to rest once and for all.

 

[Fawn Alzi]

Location: Cave entrance
Post: 1
Equipped With: Lightsaber | Knife | Decrepit staff | Sarcasm
Objective: Spelunk
Tags: [member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

---

While there was a team assembling at the entrance, Fawn dropped a heavy black sack longer than she was as soon as she arrived, its contents hitting the ground with a thud as she sat down before it. Unzipping the length of the sack, the foul smell was released into the air, a smell she had quickly become accustomed to in recent months. The corroded face of a corpse gazed back at her with empty eye sockets, soon to be doused in a violet liquid from a vial that Fawn retrieved from her belt.

She then whispered chants under her breath, holding the head of her staff above the corpse as its bones and rotting skin grew vein-like protrusions of the same color as the liquid. Before long, the corpse's hands began to move on their own, lifting itself up off the ground until it was standing above Fawn.

"Morning, Canker," she said to the reanimated cadaver, standing back up to examine it closely, making sure there were no abnormalities beyond the fact that it was an abomination of nature. "Ready to shield me with your gross meat?" She manipulated Canker's head into nodding vehemently. "I'm glad we see eye to eye, Canker."

 

[Kyle Naktis]

Affiliation
CIS

Post
#2

Kyle couldn't wait anymore, especially watching [member="Scherezade deWinter"] stride right past him. How rude Kyle thought as he watched her do it. He also sensed [member="Daxton Bane"] near but couldn't see him. Kyle could feel his presence, the dark side around him. Kyle shrugged it off and walked into the cave and stopped next to Scherezade and turned his head looking at her not saying a word. Kyle heard the noises she heard and snapped his head forward. His Hood still concealing his face. Kyle pressed on leaving Scherezade behind.

As he walked deeper the noises got louder. Kyle instantly sensed something leaping at him. Kyle turned fast as light activating both his red and purple lightsabers cutting whatever it was down. As it died it let out a powerful blast of dark side energy possibly overwhelming any one that was not strong enough to block the dark side. The blast ripped through the caverns and back to the entrance. After the blast subsided Kyle raised his lightsaber for light to examine the creature. It looked like a gundark but more terrifying. More devilish features, like it was mutated by Sith Alchemy. Kyle wasn't even sure this was a gundark, it just looked like a demonic version of one.

Kyle deactivated his lightsabers. Kyle felt the effects, cold and death from that dark side energy blast. He was quick to embrace it, let it flow through him and give him strength. Kyle closed his eyes as he did this. Once he was ready to move on he opened his eyes and pressed forward. As he walked he felt the uneven ground below his boots. He sensed more dark presences ahead as well as more noises.

As Kyle continued to walk farther away from the entrance the cave grew darker and darker until he could no longer see in front of him. Kyle stopped and focused on the force using force sight to see in the dark then continued to walk. He heard something crawling again, very close to him. This time it was more than one. Kyle quickly turned and again activating his lightsabers but he wasn't quick enough and one slashed at him but thanks to his phrik armor didn't take damage. Kyle quickly slashed at it with both sabers killing it and sending out another dark side energy blast. The other creature grabbed Kyle causing him to drop his sabers. The creature threw Kyle against the cave wall. Kyle slammed so hard against the wall a piece of the rock wall broke and fell. Kyle fell face first into the ground. The creature came up behind Kyle and stabbed him in the side. Kyle grunted loudly. He didn't know what he was fighting nor did he know what stabbed him other than the fact it was a stab in a spot with just his robe and no armor.

Kyle sensed the creature going for another attack and Kyle rolled out of the way and used the force to call for his lightsabers but the creature hit him and he flew backwards missing the opportunity to catch his sabers. Kyle immediately stood up and jumped on the creature and used his hidden wrist blades and stabbed the creature several times in the head releasing another dark side energy wave.

Kyle collapsed onto the ground and used the force to call his sabers to him. Kyle deactivated the red blade and put it on his belt and used the purple blade for light to check his wound. Kyle noticed it was a small hole. Kyle crawled to the wall and put his back to it and then reached into his pouch and pulled out a medkit. Kyle cleaned his wound and then patched it up. He put the Medkit away and grabbed his lightsaber he was using the force to hold up for light so he could free his hands. Kyle deactivated the saber standing up slowly and put the saber back on his belt and continued on deeper into the caverns channeling his pain to make him stronger still focusing on the force for anything else that would attack him.

​

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Plains of Roon, Lit Side, Following a Bantha Herd
Objective: Reach an acceptable deal with the Bantha Ur-Spirit

The lowing of cows calling their calves woke her. How long had she slept? Not long enough. She felt as though she could sleep forever, and depending on the Ur-Spirits decision, perhaps she would soon enough. Not yet though, not yet. Perhaps sleeping had been a mistake. She felt in no ways refreshed, but the ache and stiffness had been allowed to settle into her limbs. With a groan she didn't bother to bite back, there being none present who would judge her, she rose, and once more took her place towards the back of the herd as they moved on. Did they do anywhere in particular, or did they simply keep moving so as not to overgraze or draw too much predatory intention? She didn't know. It was something to think about for awhile, until thought was too much work, and eyes that did not truly see stayed fixed on the horizon and she merely walked. One foot in front of the other.

Perhaps it was a day, perhaps it was shorter, or longer. With no day or night, no chronometer, she had no way to track such things, there was no meaning in days. Time passed, this was all she knew as truth, and eventually the stopped again. She fell to her knees, ignoring the bull as he huffed nearby. Eyes closed as soon as hands hit dirt, and again she flung herself into the Other as the ichor rose.

There was no calling or waiting this time, the Ur-Bantha was there.

"Three days I have judged it, in three days you will be dead."

"Yes." She accepted this. It would know better than she.

"My children will carry your bones to the Graveyard."

"You do me honour." It was an honour. Bantha graveyards were for bantha.

"They could carry you now instead to riches. These children, there home holds roonstones, they carry much worth to your kind. Take those instead and go. Purchase your hope."

"They carry much worth to some of my kind, and I thank you for the offer, but they are nothing to me. They are not herd. They are not food. They are not water. What good are shiny stones to one such as I? The Hope I chase cannot be purchased, it must be earned."

"Hmph. Well. Perhaps you have learned something from my children after all."

"I hope that I have."

The two stayed like that in silence for a moment, the witch on her knees, even here, the Ur-Bantha towering above her and swaying slightly. Finally the human spoke once more.

"Bantha, you know me, I am Dhakarta of the Biding Muskeg Clan and I have walked with your children, I ask you for your boon, that I might continue to walk."

"Dhakarta of the Biding Muskeg, least of my herd, I grant you my blessing, now go, you trouble my children, and surely your own could put you to work."

And then the Ur-Bantha not ungently pushed the Witch out of the Other and back into the Here, where as she fell to the ground the ichor settled onto her skin and was absorbed and with it, renewal.

She was still tired, this was a truth, but it would take more than three days to bring about her death while the Blessing of the Bantha was on her. Neither sun, heat or cold, nor deprivation would slow her, not for a long time. As she rose slowly to her feet, filling her lungs fully, stretching each limb in turn to test it, she laughed aloud, and the great bull shook his head at this strangeness.

"Ah, apologies brother, but with our mothers blessing, there is somewhere I must be, thank you for guarding me in my weakness." With those words and a bow, all of which was lost upon the bull, she turned and loped off.

She knew where her allies would be. Any force sensitive upon this planet would. It pulled and pulled, daring you to probe, like the infected hole of a lost tooth, and it promised the same pain or worse. Soon, she would be there soon. Even with this boon she would not sprint, but she could jog, this she could do. And perhaps soon there would be food and water and rest, but first and always there was work to be done.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

"I see you're as charming as ever, Fawn."

Er'in purred at the woman with a smile somewhere between pleased and irritated. That long flight to CIS space with Fawn on her ship had been... exciting, and both of them would chalk it up as stupid.

Then again, Er'in was reasonably sure both of them had the same level of common sense when it came to women - not a lot.

She brushed a lock of hair back out of her eyes - noticably dimmer than they had been before, more crackles of violet than orbs, and surveyed the tunnel before them.

"Another day, another tomb." She commented as the sound of combat echoed up from the depths. She glanced over at Scherezade, it was hard to miss the mad woman's pain - and Er'in didn't use the term 'mad' lightly. She didn't really know what to say, nothing she could do would stablise or help her.

"You girls coming?" She eventually asked, walking down in the direction of [member="Kyle Naktis"] - admittedly, hardly rushing to the rescue, but heading to the metaphorical sound of the guns, as it were.

[member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Fawn Alzi"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

 

[Fawn Alzi]

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Location: Cave entrance
Post: 2
Equipped With: Lightsaber | Knife | Decrepit staff | Sarcasm
Objective: Spelunk
Tags: [member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

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With her mind focused so much on the walking dead before her, she was thrown off at the sound of [member="Erin Tenel"] addressing her. The last time she was faced with her felt like an eternity ago, but she very well knew that it wasn't.

"I must thank you for reminding me of why I seldom go on these expeditions, Erin..." she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes as she directed her dead companion to walk into the cave ahead of her. "It's rare that I subject myself to the same fling twice..."

With her staff in one hand, she made a motion with her free hand to attempt to casually pull Erin back towards her, adding, "Unless you're under the pretense that it was more than a fling... How naive that would be..."

 

[Daxton Bane]

The shadows seemed to congeal and take form as Daxton drew closer to the target. He was content to let [member="Scherezade deWinter"] go ahead of him, he was in no rush. Another force user quickly followed her, although he never spoke with them before, he would hazard a guest that one was [member="Kyle Naktis"]. Ah too be young again, he thought to himself with some amusement. Always in a rush to get to nowhere.

As he stepped into the descending gloom, the HUD on his helm automatically switched vision modes to use what little light there was and allow him to see quite clearly. No need yet to draw his weapons, at least for now, that would only draw attention to himself and that is one thing he would prefer to avoid for now.

Moving forward, he tried to catch a glimpse of either Force User in case they needed his assistance.

 

[Luna Vega]

Post: 1​

Mention: [member="Rylan Kordel"]​

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It was a short drift- no kinda ride to Roon from Felacat. She was far enough to relax though and Luna exhaled a breath she did not realize she had been holding. While the pirate would have loved nothing more than to sink into the co-pilot's chair and wallow in her freshly found FREEDOM, there was a promise of intoxication that roused her interest more, albeit parched. Rylan spoke and she swiveled in her chair, unfastened before he could say 'drink', the toes of her boots hitting the deck. However unlikely that a merc and a pirate would befriend one another, a sort of unspoken accord was sealed between them from the previous battle on a backwater planet. How long it would last, one could never tell. She stood, stretching before heading out.​

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The long lost member of The Confederacy looked at him incredulously before clamoring down the ramp of the freighter, "As if Imma goona go'a'dun a deep dak hooole. No tha'crazy." She was though. Crazy that is. Perhaps the pirate had learned something in her time away from civilization? Nay inches from his heels until she'd hit earth, the lass moved to side, not quite shoulder-to-shoulder. It took everything. EVERYTHING for the likes of this pirate not to sprint. Instead, Luna squared her shoulders with a shudder, pale grays fixated on the cantina. No sign, just the scent of the liquor calling. She never could explain how her scent never failed to find her a drink. It just did.​

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"Bother..." tsking Rylan, she moved past him just to the edge of the bar, body language shifting as she spoke to the tender low. You did not simply go to a foreign planet and ask for their best. Especially Roon. With a friendly nod and an impish smile, Luna slid back to her newly found friend. The tender disappeared to the back. "I'll learn ye somethin', lad," she chuckled. "Ne'r order th' best n for'n sol."​

 

[Mavrek Kordalas]

Objective: Profit!​

Post: 1​

Load-out: Heirloom Kordel Clan armor, Wrist Mounted rocket lauch, wrist mounted twin-link flamethrower, twin kal, Slugthrower, RSFK-44 Heavy blaster pistol​

Nearby: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Fawn Alzi"] [member="Erin Tenel"] [member="Kyle Naktis"]​

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Roon, this would be Mavrek's first time here, he had heard of what had happened generations ago, but ancient history didn't always mean much when you were just trying to survive in a galaxy constantly at war, it didn't mean you couldn't learn from that past though. Leaving his ship in the docking area, the Mandalorian Protector moved off in a different direction than the bar, while a drink was always welcome, he heard their was treasure and monsters to hunt on this world, and sure, while he was no force user by any means, he wasn't going to let it stop him from the hunt.

​

​

Stopping around the entrance and a younger girl that looked vaguely familiar from his time on Haseria, though he wasn't sure if it was her or not, being that it was a couple weeks back, and he'd been drinking. "Well, you look like you're well equipped to go hunting." he commented towards the young lady, hoping he didn't startle her too much by just randomly speaking to her, especially since voice would be partially distorted by the helmet and it's filters. Head turning slightly, he allowed his HUD to scan the cave mouth and he pondered on his course of action.

 

[EmKay]

Objective: Hunt Post: I Loadout: Serrated Sword; Hatchet; Blaster; Clothing/Light Armour; Chem-Lights; Emergency Med-Injectors​

Nearby: Mavrek Kordalas; Kyle Naktis; Erin Tenel; Fawn Alzi; Daxton Bane; Scherezade deWinter​

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Dal cinched and secured the buckles to his gloves and shin guards. This place, Roon, sent a strange thrill through his body and mind. There had been many battles here... or one large one. Whichever the case, there were repercussions felt even now. He could smell them. He secured his weapons and light helmet into place then hopped down from the wing of his fighter. There was business to attend to. This Confederacy paid well enough to suit him, but the hunt itself would have been payment enough. He took a deep breath of the cool night air, then set his journey to the depths that awaited him.

Those around him that Stone should have been cooperating with would have a hard time gaining his attention at first. His mind was working on steeling his nerves, relaxing his muscles, and controlling his heart rate. His inner eye visualized what unknowns may lie before him. Each breath and step was deliberate. Beasts were no trifling matter, and even the small and weak ones could end you if they caught you off-guard or off-step. He adjusted the timepiece on his wrist. The night would be long.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Er'in slowed, as if the challenged posed by Fawn was far, far more interesting than the tomb below, falling back to walk in stride with the woman.

"Fawn, my darling. It's a pleasure to see you too! How have you been? Still aggravating as ever? Marvellous."

She kept her eyes alertly on the tomb structure, but it was clear someone was deeper in ahead and she didn't see any signs of conflict, or any spawn. The architecture was pleasant enough, though - very Jedi / Lightside, but she did admire this particular era's taste in sweeping curves.

"And my dear, I do love the necromancy." Her voice was a little softer, less cutting, more genuine. "And would never repeat a fling, but you have to admit our little tryst was..." She smiled, her mind clearly elsewhere for a moment. "...fun."

[member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Fawn Alzi"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Dalvas Stone"] | [member="Mavrek Kordalas"]​

 

[Asher Mossa]

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Tag: [member="Luna Vega"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"]​

Post 2​

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Asher washed the whatever it was liquid he had just drunk down with an ale when he heard someone say something about never ordering the best... He turned to look at who it was, and found two people he did not recognize. One had dark hair, chiseled features, very masculine, and the other was curvy with blue hair, and clearly female. A chest like hers did not grow on a male, not without the belly to match it.

He slid closer to them as he sipped his ale.

"Whatever you do don't get the house stuff. It's... not good."

He pointed to the empty glass where he had just come from indicating that he could attest to the fact it was not good from recent experience. Another sip from his ale was taken before he extended a hand to them both.

"Asher Mossa... good to meet you both."

Asher was trying to be outgoing. This was not his usual trait. Mostly introverted the Lylek follower usually kept to himself even in social settings that required getting to know people. As a result he knew very few people connected to the Confederacy, even among his own group. There was really only one person he knew to any degree beyond an acquaintance, and that was because of how Lylek had bound him to another. It was disconcerting and frustrating, but he could always know where she was, and what she was up to. He wanted the link broken, but also feared that he would miss it when gone.

"Decided to skip out on the underground field trip I take it?"