Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Kheedar's Path



"Brothers. Sisters. We are true children of Kheedar. Long have we lived here, mining under it's surface to claim the bounties within. We've processed countless tons of hydrocarbon to sell amongst the stars, but are we given anything in return? We can't afford the homes we live in. We can't afford the food we eat. All while the king and his loyalists gorge themselves on excess. Lay down your tools. They cannot mine their riches themselves. They cannot make their wealth without us. We will show them just how much they need us. We will show them that without living wages, we will not work for them."

It had been the start of a peaceful protest. An elder spoke to his people, every day citizens looking to make a living. Not from greed, but a desire to go back to their homes and show their loved ones a world they could grow happy. All around him the other workers, fed up with such abuse from those who were supposed to pay them, laid down their tools and joined his protest. It was a movement that spread across the world of Kheedar rapidly. People believed in peace, they believed they could change the king's mind and change their world for the better.

They were wrong to believe as much.

Outrage was the only thing that met the protests as they continued. Mild annoyance from the king turned to a fury that consumed peace. Protestors were beaten to be forced back to work. When they refused, people were killed, and once that line had been crossed chaos consumed the world. Peaceful protests erupted in violence. The elder tried to keep the peace, even went so far as to send a messenger to try and ask the Jedi for help, but the message left too late.

The king's military might was far too much for the workers. They had no weapons to properly fight back. There was no hope for victory, but the rebellion that had formed tried regardless even as the elder begged them not to. When they were rooted out and killed to the last, it was the elder that wept for their loss. He never gave up on peace, not until the end. He was the example. The one who had started the protests, peaceful as they had been. His people turned their backs on him as their lives turned from unbearable to hell on earth. By the end, he was to be executed for his crimes against the crown. He had tried, but failure weighed heavy on his heart. He accepted his fate.

His fate was not his alone.

The first protestors. His fellow workers, his town, his family. They were all killed, butchered, and left to rot around him. He would die a slow death of dehydration amongst those corpses, left to rot in his chains. That was the last that was heard of him. For months he had become a cautionary tale of the cost of rebellion. Kheedar was too far, too isolated, to rely on the help of others. To survive, they would have to bow their heads and pray to live.

The elder had been forgotten by this point, but the elder had not.

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Hatred was the only emotion he had left. Peace was a belief he no longer held as he stepped through the streets of the capital city. He had only the dirty robe that clung to his shoulders as he looked. Excess. While the villages outside these walls struggled for food, he could see trash overflowing with perfectly good food.

"While we suffered, they lived in luxury. No more. If we do not have the food we need, we will take it. If we do not have the strength to do so, we will find it. No matter the cost, we will pay. Go, take what they have denied you. Take what should be yours. The hell they have made us suffer, bring to them."

They were once human. They ran through the streets like beasts, breaking through windows and walls with an inhuman might that betrayed how far they had strayed. They had paid the cost with their humanity. Their forms were twisted, some looking more human than others, while others looked nothing like the people they once were. Demons, the people cried out in fear as they were slaughtered. Devils, the nobles cried out as everything they owned burned.

The first steps had been taken. Kheedar would find it's worth on the path.

 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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Braze had been kept busy, with no lull in the growing tide of vile bastards making misery for everyone unfortunate enough to fall beneath their reach. There was always another fire somewhere, another cruelty carried out by someone convinced power made them untouchable.

But when the people of Kheedar sent out a desperate plea for aid from the Jedi, Braze had to answer.

Drawing his attention away from his other tasks, he made his way toward Kheedar, with every intention of meeting up with Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el once he arrived.

Braze disembarked his ship and took a slow look around, a frown settling across his features at the sights that greeted him. This was a sorrowful place, and the call of psychometry washed over him almost at once. Frightening visions of days past played across his mind's eye: impressions left clinging to the streets, sharp enough that the present seemed to thin around him as though the visions were superimposed over the area.

Braze sighed softly and started down the street, taking in the general condition of the surrounding district as he went. His gaze lingered on damaged structures... He paid particular attention to anything that might betray where the worst of the violence had taken place...

For now, he kept his lightsaber out of sight. He had come to help, not to stride into the streets looking like another armed authority expecting everyone else to make way and he would prefer to meet with Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el first.
 

Jasper wasn't really one for disguises or being discrete. It helped that, typically speaking, he didn't really ever look like a Jedi at all. He never was a stickler for uniforms. Even so, he wasn't as clearly armed as he typically was, and his sheathed lightsaber looked more like a sword within it's scabbard. They had come to help these people, answering a plea for aid. And yet...

All they found was the destruction of something that had seemed to sweep through this place. Was it the work of the corrupt King that seemed to be abusing his people? Perhaps...

This seemed much darker though.


This was a sorrowful place, and the call of psychometry washed over him almost at once. Frightening visions of days past played across his mind's eye: impressions left clinging to the streets, sharp enough that the present seemed to thin around him as though the visions were superimposed over the area.

Jasper frowned as he glanced over at the faces that his student was making. Psychometry. Braze was adept at it, but it never seemed to be pleasant...

"What did you see?"

 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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"It seems to have started as a workers' protest… arguments about wages, food, and basic living conditions. The would be King answered with beatings, then ... by executions. It became a short lived uprising, and they slaughtered them." Braze swallowed. "The man who started it tried to keep things peaceful. They chained him among the bodies of his people and left him there to die."

He offered with a frown looking up to Jasper.

There was a loud ruckus ahead, coming from what Braze presumed to be the capitol. Shouts carried over the surrounding streets, mingling with the crash of breaking glass and the heavier clamor of something being torn apart.

"Are we too late ?" He asked quietly as he moved to Jasper's side uncertain what to do in this scenario.
 

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"Late is a matter of perspective."

His appearance wasn't a surprise. He walked down the street towards the pair. An empty, silent street compared to the chaos of the rest of the city. He was ever the beggar in appearance, each step made without shoes. "Liberation has been taken by those who have decided to stop waiting for another to help them. The city will be cleansed. You are early, in that regard."

Braze Braze | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el



 

K H E E D A R

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once amidst the empty streets. It almost seemed like an echo itself, delivered by the events that took place here before the two vigilantes arrived.

"Your arrival is timely."

It seemed as if molten rock was given chords to speak.

From a corona of shadow and flame a tall armoured figure emerged in the center of the street, next to the frail elder. Gothic plates, ridged and spiked covering him, a tattered robe hanging from beneath the armour, the colour of dried blood. He stood motionless, just there, each of his hands wielded a weapon that was hanging low in his grip, almost relaxed.

A drop of blood fell from the tip of the sword.

Azavar saw the two Lightsiders with hollow eyeslits for what they were. Powerful and yet frail. So righteous and so determined, blind to the true nature of everything. Blind to the liberation that had taken place here and would take place elsewhere and on and on.
 

Jasper let out an exhale.

"Did the people who died feel liberated?" he asked very bluntly. "All that suffering under the thumb of a cruel monarch, and their salvation is getting ripped to pieces? Leave it to any Force user, especially a darksider, to think that they're doing anything to help people. Conflating your own emotions to be the truth of the masses. You couldn't fathom what people actually want, could you?"

He knew what they wanted. It was something he wanted himself. A peaceful place to rest, to raise a family, to be happy. Normalcy. This wasn't normal, it was a perversion of the desires of anything organic.

The man scoffed as he gestured to the destruction.

"Look at this waste," Jasper stated. "Anyone who survived this nightmare has only rubble to their name. Liberation, huh? You're just not creative enough to fix problems without burning down everything around them. No logistics, no sympathy, not even the basic consideration for any normal person. You've gotta think me a moron to think I'll eat up that drivel. You twisted their hope into their annihilation."

Jasper would not draw his sword yet. He would even back up his student if Braze chose to be proactive. But he didn't want to fight yet.

He just wanted to vent his frustrations a little.


 
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"You are correct. Rubble and annihilation is all they will have left. They only have hate left. It is such a human emotion, to hate." There was a chuckle from the elder before he glanced towards Azavar. A polite bow of his head was offered before he glanced to Jasper.

Then to Braze.

"You hate that as well, don't you? How cruel and spiteful a person can be. How, with just a shred of power, they turn their fangs on those who've wronged them. They will kill every single one of the nobility that has wronged them. It will be beautiful, their revenge. So many in this galaxy need such a chance. Kill them, and they won't spread their hate. Go save the souls you can. I won't step in your way."

Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Braze Braze | Azavar the Anointed Azavar the Anointed


 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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"Your arrival is timely."
Braze felt unsettled by the entity that appeared before them. The petite Echani youth moved almost instinctively to stand in front of Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el , protective of the taller blonde despite the differences in their stature. His wary jade green gaze shifted between the nightmarish entity that had materialized before them, and then to elder across from them as the old man spoke.

More unsettling still was the elder himself, and the almost cheerful calm with which he regarded all this devastation. A sickening nausea swelled in the pit of his gut listening to what he said next.

The people were revolting, and it had already turned bloody; Mob mentality had surely taken hold well before their arrival. Braze understood just how quickly suffering could become the metaphorical crab bucket, each frightened hand dragging at the next person trying to climb free until everyone remained trapped together at the bottom.

Truthfully there was precious little two Jedi could do once an entire population had begun feeding upon its own anger.

"Of course I feel hate…" Braze stated softly, his tone gentle despite the tension drawing through the core of his slight being. "But the King is the one who started this. The protests were peaceful… and the workers had asked for enough to live on... and they were brutalized for it."

His gaze remained fixed upon the elder with the occasional slight glance towards the dark entity that stood across from them.

Something else had to have happened after the rebellion had been crushed.... Something neither he nor Jasper understood yet. The impressions left behind were muddled by violence, terror, and anguish, but the resulting events did not sit cleanly together in Braze's mind.

Now which one of the two before them was the missing piece? Or did they act together? It wasn't easy to determine....

His attention drifted briefly toward the entity before returning to the old man.

"Vengeance without purpose doesn't make anything right. It only makes someone else hurt."

Braze let out a slow breath as he glanced disconcertingly towards all the violence.

"You can hate what was done to you. You can hate the people who did it. But if that hatred is allowed to choose who deserves to suffer next…

…then all they have done is teach you how to become them."
 

K H E E D A R

"Your naivety is unbearable."

"Leave the Galaxy to a Lightsider and they will eventually grow: blind, deaf, lazy. You actually believe that your Jedi training, your serenity or detachment, compassion or whatever lie you are telling yourself makes you understand any common individual."

With a clanking of plate, creaking of metal he raised his mace pointing at Braze Braze .

"Even he understands that hate is normal. Emotions must not be suppressed and controlled, they deserve to be liberated."

Azavar made a step to the side, the tremor of his sabatons hitting the ground could be felt through the entire place, his void-like gaze wandered away from the two. He was burning with the fire of chaos, with the passion for destruction that no puny idealist with a lightsaber would undo. He agreed with the elder, but also would not let anyone come in his way of liberating this place of weakness.

He would anoint it.

"Your philosophy is shattered by the mere history of this petty Galaxy. It craves its own destruction. Only blood and embers will purify it of the flaws you see."

"Go, run. Save these miserable souls."

His gaze returned to the two.

"If you can."

Azavar turned his full bulk now to face the two again.


 

"Even he understands that hate is normal. Emotions must not be suppressed and controlled, they deserve to be liberated."

"I taught him that," Jasper scoffed. "Thanks for asking. I'll even tell you what I hate, free of charge. I hate people who decide that their petty revenge is what everyone needs and twists it into some 'greater-good' bullchit."

Jasper was tired of these encounters. He didn't care what this individual was, between the fire and hulking armor. He assumed that Jasper was here as a Jedi. That couldn't be further from the truth. He was here as a man, trying his best to be a good person. To guide innocents to safety. People who didn't want anything to do with the petty squabble that so regularly ruined lives.

It was that very petty squabble that had set him down the path to be disillusioned by creeds. Case in point...


It is such a human emotion, to hate.

"It's also human to love," Jasper stated. "Forsake one over the other and you only create a hollow imitation of life."

From there, Jasper decided he would promptly ignore these people. They had to save whatever civilians were still left, anyone who was simply caught in the crossfire.

Maybe not the King, though. He could stay in this hell.

"Fan out, look for survivors," Jasper told to his student. "Let's evacuate who we can."

And off he ran into the chaos.


 

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"Is that so?"

A genuine question. A hollow imitation of life, only to hold hate without love? The elder mulled it over as he watched Jasper run off. True to his word he wasn't going to stop the man. These people had taken this liberation into their own hands, and their hate had taken over everything else. The power they had latched themselves onto through that hate would never leave them.

This was not a path they could step off of.

"What do you think? Are they hollow for forsaking compassion for the hate they feel towards every person in this city, living luxury off the backs of their suffering? I believe this one is much easier to rationalize."

He spoke to the younger Jedi, watching him for a moment longer. Then turned his gaze up towards the armored ally.

"Are you prepared to kill the rest? Such a cleansing would go to waste otherwise. I believe they could actually save a sparse few."

Braze Braze | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Azavar the Anointed Azavar the Anointed



 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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"Love and hate are two sides of the same coin… As powerful as hate may be, I know love is the stronger side. It's the strongest force there is… even stronger than the Force. To hate, you must first be able to love. That's the lie the Sith fall prey to when they blindly trap themselves within that vicious cycle… believing the two exist in opposition. You must love something before you can truly Hate something. You become hollow when you forsake all care for everything else…"

Braze mused softly before padding after his Master. Even Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex knew the little Echani spoke with wisdom beyond his years in such a sentiment. Braze wasn't going to allow that truth to remain buried, however… he intended to bring it out into the Light, where others might reach for that understanding themselves.

Apathy was the true enemy of Love, after all.

 

K H E E D A R

His infinitely dark gaze followed the trot of the dull witted saviors as they tried to rally and protect what they could neither understand nor achieve. Kheedar was not even a spark, it was a mere symptom of the Galaxy's vile nature. Vile but honest, violent but true. Hatred was just one natural expression that required merely a few drops of violence, hunger and injustice and it would become a wave, a storm manifesting the truest form of life.

"My minions will make their ill-fated quest more entertaining."

"Everything will burn in fire and blood, I can feel the agony, the ecstasy of violence, of unleashed hatred boiling."

+ + +
It was an accelerated mutation, sponsored by the intense emotional discharge and fueled by Hatred Hatred him- and itself. The people were not merely desperate, they were utterly depleted physically and mentally. Surviving massacres, suffering hunger and witnessing injustice did not merely create fertile ground for the growing corruption, it was the perfect seed planted and blossoming.

Azavar's craft just tipped an already falling populace in the right direction.

The few who retained their sanity, were hiding, anywhere they could, from the unleashed beings that once were neighbours, friends, family. They were nothing more than prey, standing in opposition to the new natural order, the new food chain. The once starving, depraved and disillusioned people of Kheedar were such no longer.

And those that were not merely succumbing to their primal instincts, but could direct them, were blessed by Azavar's touch, his anointment. They regained a modicum of sentience, of intelligence and lead the packs of 'people'.

The two rescuers did not merely move into a humanitarian crisis.

They became part of a brutal and cruel hunting ground.

 

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