Return Home: The Prince of Sand

[Lance of Dreams]

Rules:
1. Consider this a PM for invite private thread. I don't want anyone randomly joining. If you want to join, please refer to this: RH:TPS OCC. Thank you.
2. Kyr is not kill-able here, this is to explain his return to Mandalorian space AFTER all this happens.
3. I control all major NPC interaction, you can handle the minors (random people you're talking to). But any minor NPC's that I decide could work with my plot, I am allowed to take over their control.
4. You may temporarily generate a profile for a Tusken Raider for Kyr to interact with. Please note however, that you are Tuskens. You won't be talking basic. So please signify in your speech that you aren't talking basic. For example, put <<>> with your text in the middle as a way of telling the reader your talkn' Tusken.

Other than that, I can't think of much else to hinder you with So have fun I guess!

5. Oh one more thing! Try to refrain from OCC
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Tatooine​

The Dune Sea...​

Hutuun'Kyramud stood in the center of a seemingly endless desert, with winds howling, threatening to blow in a storm. He stood not as himself these past few weeks, he stood as a different... thing. He was not a person as he had been to the Mandalorians. Here he was a Savage, as he realized he was always meant to be. Why was fate so cruel, as to drag him away from a Tusken's only home? Mandalore was no place for the children of the Sand. Here where water was worth its weight in platinum, if you could get it into a cup before it evaporated. Here, there was no food and drink; there was simply meat and breath. Though he hadn't completely abandoned his old culture, he did adopt pretty much everything about his new Tusken identity.

From the anger that brought him here, to now, Kyr sighed. He had learned a lot about himself, had done some shameful things in the eyes of his brothers... his real brothers. Things he would regret for the rest of his life, but wouldn't trade for anything. Tatooine was a learning curve, and Kyr felt as if though he had walked for years in the Desert, killed thousands of innocents, and plundered a generation. The desert would do that to a person if they weren't careful, and Kyr had been reckless. He closed his covered eyes as the two suns set upon the desert horizon. He didn't feel like a Prince, even as a Prince of Savages. He went on a trek through his mind’s eye, recalling the events that led him here...

Mandalore​

A week after the Reinvasion of Junction...​

"What?" Kyr stifled, in his deep guttural voice. He shook his head trying to understand what his brother was saying.

"Peace has been declared, the Sith forces are retreating." How could that be? How could 'peace' be declared with the enemy that had murderd countless brothers and sisters of Mandalore? People who hadn't the chance to fight for the glory of their culture and... Mandalore.

"Mandalore... agreed to this?" He uttered in confusion. He just didn't understand how this could be. If this was true, this Mandalore was shaping up to be just as good as the last one.

"Yes. Apparently with the rise of the New Sith Empress, the Sith had a change of heart, and Mandalore is taking advantage of this. I heard a contingent of soldiers left with him a few days ago. No one is sure what was happening, but after their return, not only had the Sith Empress been declared, but it was also declared that there would be peace between the Mandalorians and the Sith for the time being. One can only wonder where they had gone, and done." His brother continued to speak, as the Tusken struggled to contain his anger. He sat down and held his head in his hands. Beside him, he had finally built his last Gaderffii. He would make sure not to lose this one, as he had already used up a sizable amount of Beskar that could make him seem like he's wasting it like nothing.

It reminded him of who he thought he was, the Tusken Warrior who had found a better enemy to fight. With this thought in his head, he looked down at his hands; wrapped in the Crushgaunts he had acquired the Invasion previous. From the shine of his armor he could see his helmet... his face. Was he a Tusken, or was he a Mandalorian? He had always thought he was both, but reviewing the past three Invasions, was he truly Mandalorian? Had one of his brothers been put in his place, would they have bothered listening to Moridan at the Governor's palace? Would they have let it rule them in rage in fighting a Sith adversary? Would they have heeled even for a moment to the words of the Darth at the Relay Station?

All these he considered and pondered where they had come from. Each time he saw, that the sith had simply offered battle, and he responded in similar ways. The first time, he had considered it as a possibility out of his control, and then fought them. The second time, he held the words of the other sith in his head, and then shoved them away in his attempt to kill some Sith beast with an unfamiliar Savagery. Then there was the third time... he had actually knelt before a Sith... an enemy in his offer for a better battle. But then shoved away his thought to attack.

It was clear now. These were the thoughts of a Mandalorian. A Tusken would not wait to attack a foe, to consider his enemy's thoughts, or motives. In fact, Tusken's had no enemy; only prey. It was obvious now, that Mandalorian thoughts had poisoned his mind from his true nature. That's when he decided...

It was time to return home...

-----------------
And that was the Introduction!
@[member="Verz Horak"], @[member="Mia Monroe"], @[member="Kiyala Demont"], @[member="Selena Halcyon"], @[member="Axton Milfred"]

 

[Selena Halcyon]

Selena Halcyon, or Ley'ela Hoshek as she was known as in this guise, walked through the streets of Mos Eisley. Her gear and garb made her blend in rather well with the crowd on the planet. Various pieces of armor covered pieces of her body. A pair of blasters hung at her hips. A rifle was slung over her back, whose scope actually contained her lightsaber. Her hair, comically enough, was blue to give her that rough spacer kind of vibe. And the icing on the cake was the lip ring fixed to the middle of her lower lip. The Jedi Knight really disliked this disguise, but it was one of her most common and one with a reputation tied to it. As Ley'ela she was a rather successful bounty hunter, though hard to get a hold of. Likely because her specialty was very specific and only the proper contacts could reach her as such. It was the darkside. Sith, dark jedi, artifacts, anything that gave the smell of the darkside drew her contracts.

It was actually a great front for her work as a Jedi Shadow. Her current place of work was a little bit different than most. The contract itself also did not necessarily indicate that a Sith hand was involved as well. At some level, she thought this was a waste of her time but the possibilities were interesting. Tattooine was on the fringe of the galaxy, but it was surprisingly important at times. What was actually interesting was the activity on Tattooine. And for once it was not the criminal activity, but the actions of the natives. See the tuskens were very tribal in nature, and seldom unified. While they sometimes engaged in raiding settlements, they did not engage in them in great frequency.

In fact only two other times really came up in the histories that were recent enough to be considered relevant. Both times had been under the direction of a Force user. The first time a Jedi whose cause was noble as he just wanted his people to return to having their lands. The second time was by a fallen Jedi who later became a fearsome Sith Lord, who in some respect could possibly be looked at as the foundation for the current Sith problem. Cultures like Tuskens also typically did not spontaneously change without outside influence, and she imagined that some kind of influence was in place.

She walked into a cantina and sat down at the bar. The bartender was a familiar contact, "Tattooine doesn't seem your style, Ecar. Got ran out of Ord Mantell?"

The man rolled his eyes and handed her the usual drink. "Yeah, cursed Echani 'liberated' it from the droids. Not my kind of planet anymore."

The bounty hunter chuckled and downed the shot. "I hear ya, sorry the compact got you. But to business. I got some work involving this... tusken issue."

"Ah, yes. The Tusken problem," started Ecar. Ley'ela leaned in to listen.

 

[Lance of Dreams]

Stealing your bartender Selena
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"The Tuskens have been acting up lately. Raids are more frequent, the casualties are bigger, the damage they cause now is nothing like we're used to. It's as if, all of a sudden every Tusken tribe in the area, has been fighting all at once!" Escar told her.

"What's worse, there is one particular Tusken that's got the people worried..." Escar pulled out a Holopad, and put in a disk. On the display was a raid. There didn't seem to be anything unusual. No lightsabers, or Tusken using the force. Everything in there was purely a Tusken Raider. However...

Escar pointed out one of them in particular, "That one... doesn't die." He looked up into the bounty hunter's eyes to display that he was being serious. The Holovid continued the display, where as one would observe that when that Tusken wasn't dodging, he was taking the fire, and continuing all the same. Sometimes, when the Tusken was lucky, blaster bolts were even swatted away with his hands. He turned it off and put it away to continue the conversation.

"Also, it seems that not only are all the Tusken's fighting, it appears to be that they are fighting organized, and they all seem to follow him. My guess he's the leader causing us all the trouble."

 

[A'Agghoar]

(Yes, this is Verz)

A'Agghoar was preparing with his tribe for a raid on Mos Eisely. He had his gafferdi, rifle and theBanthas were ready. He thought about the one leading these raids. This Tusken, while seemingly an off-worlder, he was very Tusken. He had armor that never broke, and devices that seemed to solidify the desert heat and throw it at a foe. It had incredible destructive power. The Tusken was known as @[member="Hutuun'Kyramud"] .

A'Agghoar finished getting his gear together, he walked over to and pet one of the bantas, then headed to his tent, to rest from the broiling hot sun.

 

[Lance of Dreams]

I don't use grenades as a Tusken bro. Everything else is spot on.

 

[Barrett Haskins]

Whatever unfortunate luck brought the smuggler back to Tattooine was beyond his comprehension, he had stopped coming here a couple years ago after his second visit when he got in trouble with some Jawas after leaving his blaster unattended. He had stopped here because he figured that it wouldn't be that big of a deal to drop off and refuel and take off again, he had enough to make it back but he would rather be safe than sorry.

It wasn't three seconds after he turned his ship off and got ready to head off the ramp that he heard the creaking noise from his hyperdrive and the feeling of unadulterated rage set in, of course the one time he came back to Tattooine he would get stuck. The worst part was that he was on the outskirts of Mos Eisley, a mistake only someone as eager to land as Barrett would make.

"Sithspawn." He cursed, throwing his hydrospanner on the ground out of anger.

 

[Lance of Dreams]

Kyr remember the anger he had felt in his Mandalore, of how he could have sided with the enemy? The cowards who had slaughtered out people like cattle? He had, had enough of 'The Rebuilders' false rule; he did not need a Mandalore the Traitor to boot. These were his thoughts in his travels to Tatooine. He had renounced everything that had been his life as a Mandalorian... almost everything. Like an addiction to a drug, the poison of Mandalore had left its mark upon the simple Tusken warrior in the form of armor, and a claw that would never break; even to the weapon of the Jedi. In his time as a true Tusken upon the endless seas of sand, the Tribes of these people of the Desert had worshiped him, as some sort of God.

He remembered him first coming to Tatooine, wandering the Desert, in the search for his people. He still walked in the garb of Mandalore, as throughout his life time that had become his skin. It would be many days and nights surviving the Desert without food. He may have been a Tusken behind the layers of alien metals, but deep inside he did not act like one, or think like one. He wanted to feel like one, but truly he was not. He could not hunt as a Tusken does, nor did he know the laws of the Desert. He searched through countless dunes, and wandered through innumerable Canyons without success. Until finally, he collapsed.

When he awoke, he was in a strange and unusual place. He was inside a tent, erected by the bones of some animal, and shrouded in its skin. Around him, there was a congregation beings, that all looked the same, as one grain of sand to another. They did not know what to make of him. He held to claw of the Tusken within his possession, made of strange metal they had not ever seen. His face was in the likeness of a Tusken, but surrounding the mouth was a sort of helm, that marked him as alien to them. Upon his Torso as well, in grey and red, there was a metal of which they had no encounter. They did not know if he was off-world or Tusken. His weight also, rendered him different from ordinary Tuskens, for one Tusken could lift another of his kin by himself without much difficulty, this strange being before them caused so much strain in lifting him, it had required four of them to drag him to the tent.

In either curiosity or fear, the sand people held their weapons abroad; unsure to attack the beast or to leave it alone. When he stirred, they backed away. He then stood above them, as either a God ascended from the Desert, or as a Demon descended from the stars; though neither yet had they figured, and not with their current evidence alone. That was when a new warrior had entered the large tent, one like the others, but very obviously different, and obviously higher in importance, as the Sand people made way for his path. Kyr simply observed as he walked towards him, who to him could only be the chief of this particular Tribe. He grunted and growled in spoke in the tongue of the Desert, but Kyr had been deaf to it, as he knew not a whisper to the winds of Tatooine. He simply stood with Gaderffii in hand, and was as silent as stone, but left but one word in the air for his people to read, as if it had been written in the sky, that his name was Hutuun'Kyramud.

Seemingly satisfied, the Tusken motioned for him to walk with him. Kyr looked to his feet, as he decided to move one foot in front of the other, as if he had forgotten everything in the Desert, and had been reborn to the Desert, and need to learn of how he should walk. Slowly he caught his way by the side of the Chief, who had apparently decided it was time for him to be adopted, as so few humans had been. But they were sure, that this one was no human. It was here, that he had learned the language of his people, and the stories of their long history. Many nights he spent learning, not of the hunt, but simply of his Tribe, who they were, who all Tribes were. The Beginning of time, to the End of Time. Every story ever passed down from generation to generation was told to Kyr, and he learned much from the morals and messages they sent to him, and he agreed.

Slowly, they sucked the poison out that had been the infection of his entire existence, which had swollen, and was almost to the point of no hope. But in the sands of time, there was always hope, as all things slowed down to the speed of the life time of an ever changing animal that the off-worlders had yet to record; the Desert itself. All things, were one with the Desert. Contrary to the belief of the humans, there was no separation between the Sand of the Desert and its People. All things were part of the Desert, and all things would return to the Desert.

This made Kyr think very hard about who he was, because it was true to him. He had been raised from the Sands of Tatooine, as a Tusken, and in returning to his people, he had become a Tusken again. He held these thoughts with him, as he struggled through a long overdue rite of passage, known as the 'Bloodright', where he went out on a hunt to drag back and torture another creature for weeks on end. The reason though for his struggle, was not the hunt, but to torture a seemingly innocent being, especially since he had caught a man on his speeder. As a Mandalorian, he had considered the humans of his life to be equals to him, and it reminded him of the friends he had made. He listened to the mans every whimper and cry, every scream in the night. Endless days it seemed that this man who was so unfortunate to cross paths with Kyr, had he suffered through his unnaturally innate ability to succeed.

But Kyr remained silent as his work was done, purifying himself of the thoughts he had deemed un-Tusken. It would eventually come to pass that his prestigious catch eventually withered away in death. It was a celebrated time for him and his Tribe. Kyr had gone through successfully in the Bloodright in the highest of ways. Inside, her felt dead in some way, but he tried to remind himself that he was simply killing that covered his body, and was inside, becoming reborn the way he was meant to be...

Tatooine
Tusken Tribe...

A god-like savage lay within his long hut, that had been erected as his dwelling, as War Lord. Much had happened in his coming here, and now he had become devoid of all Mandalorian Influence, save for his Armor and metal, and the tactics he employed for his people. Many had offered challenge to him in his early days, but all had been repelled. To them, he was a God, immortal, invincible. He was heavier than any Tusken, seemingly stronger than all before him, and utterly impervious to all the challengers could muster. Though he never called himself it, he almost acted as if he were a God. Outside, this Tribe was preparing once more for battle, another Raid on the neighboring settlement. He did nothing to minimize the impact of his rule of the Desert Sand, and their people. From all sides is the city flanked by an oncoming storm, intent on purging the weak of the desert, which if not for their slavery to the machine would not survive on their own as the Tusken had for thousands of years.

He lay next to his wife, granted to him on his officially becoming a man. It was... different for him, even as a Tusken. He had never loved anyone before. He had never been attracted to anything other than battle. Even as he loved her as she loved him, he still felt uncomfortable taking off his armor. He had seen her before, but she had not yet seen him. Their marriage was unofficial, as still yet for all his life he had worn his garments that felt as if they were skin. To remove it would be to remove the flesh from his bones. If that was what it meant to love another, than he wasn't sure he was ready just yet. But all those in the Tribe continued to encourage their God to show his wife the face of her husband.

Still he refused, but he was coming closer to it....

 

[Selena Halcyon]

Ley'ela took in everything she could from the holorecording. She mulled over what she saw. The Tusken looked to be visibly larger, and in a somewhat unnatural way. She debated if it was from some kind of armor, but the sandpeople were not really ones to wear armor. And the normal trappings were on this one. Still, the batting away and taking of blaster bolts was just strange. It was almost enough to think that the recording had been tampered with, but why? No cause really existed for that.

If someone wanted to draw in the attention of the Jedi, which to her best of her knowledge no one knew she was anyways, then it would be far simpler to edit in a lightsaber. This did have a strange feel to it. Not many species could just shrug off blaster bolts. Even fewer could take off a large number of them. And none, as far as she knew, could just bat them away with their hands. This was an anomaly if she ever saw one. Could a Tusken have mutated like this? Her blue eyes traced the hollow, looking for some kind of indication on what this thing could be.

Her expression gave away nothing of what she was thinking though. All she came off as was one filled with a rough sense of confidence. "Interesting. Most interesting. Well, Escar, thanks for the tip," she downed another shot with ease, "Take care." She tossed him a few credits as she hopped off her bar-stool with a spin. This was going to be an interesting hunt, and best she could tell her query still had the smell of something Sith like. At minimum an idiot savant force using Tusken.

 

[Lance of Dreams]

Tatooine
Tusken Tribe...

Kyr walked out of his tent, and into the harsh suns of his home. He held his Gaderffii in his hand, with it gleaming in the dueling suns. It was made of his past, of when he had been Mandalorian, it was made of the same material, as the second skin that was now buried beneath his wrappings. He stood outside his tent for a moment, admiring the organization he had brought to this camp. All of them were bustling about, preparing the Bantha's, taking inventory of their weaponry, preparing columns of battle lines. Of course, they wouldn't attack in this way no, Tusken always traveled together in straight lines. But these columns were not for a single trek, each one had its designated entry point in the last battle of Mos Eisly. Two would flank, and another would raid down the center. It wouldn't be long now, until the wretched hive was wiped from the face of the Desert, who's face had suddenly turned sour upon the blemish upon it's skin... the off-worlders.

Of course, as War Lord, Kyr would lead down the center of the raid. He would be before all of his Tribe, and he had the least to worry about. However though, as he looked to the direction of the city, he noticed something peculiar upon the soon to be setting horizon. A lone ship, landed just outside of the city, and just before his encampments. It was directly in his path, so then he decided it would be best simply to confront it now before the true battle began. He motioned for a small contingent of his people to follow him, and so they did. He was headed to the poor unfortunate ship of @[member="Barrett Haskins"]. He ordered for the attack to commence, with two columns to either side of the little city, and his to follow behind his independent hunting party. Night was setting however, and regardless of Kyr's coming attack, the human would have to deal with the unforgiving cold of night.

 

[Barrett Haskins]

Night had been settling in on the smuggler for the last few hours and to no prevail the hyperdrive was still busted. He would have to wait till morning and drop some credits to have one of the cheap mechanics that live on Tatooine to fix it and up-charge him two hundred percent for being an off-worlder. "I hate this planet." Seething, he figured it would be as good a time as any to have dinner and try to get some sleep, it wasn't like he was going anywhere, and he needed to chill out after working all day.

He was going to have some rations he had saved from his last mission for dinner, pairing them with some blue milk that was close to expiration. He wanted to keep the thoughts of Tuskens and their raids out of his head, he figured there was no reason they would target him, he only had a ship...crap, that's exactly why'd they'd target him. Before he could eat he now knew he was going to have to get everything ready incase he had some company tonight. He couldn't couldn't exit into hyperspace until the hyperdrive was fixed, but he could surely use the three guns on the ship if it came down to it. He also had his blaster pistol on his right hip and his slugthrower on his left.

All the preparation was done with the hope he wouldn't have to execute any of it, just becuse he had guns didn't meant he Tuskens would still be a challenge, one better off avoided. The eternal optimist inside of him was reassuring him the entire time he ate, he knew that there wouldn't be any Tuskens tonight and he'd be able to sleep easy.

 

[Selena Halcyon]

Let's just say, it is a really awkward moment when you're cruising over the desert in a speeder bike when you come to the edge of a dune to see a massive horde of encamped Tusken Raiders. She turned the speeder so quickly that the tip of it dug itself into the side of the dune, not being able to adjust for distance quick enough. Ley'ela Hoshek quickly punched the throttle and actually pushed the tip through the dune, clearing the obstruction instead of getting lodged into it and flipping over. She was sure that she had been noticed by some sort of guard by then. It was quite startling to say the least.

Escar did not say they were right outside the city. Kark, Ley'ela did not even see the group when she had landed on the planet. No one had. How? What was going on? Yeah, this was the Tusken's natural environment but this was impressive. She raced back to another dune and looked out at the other dunes through electrobinoculars. The Tuskens would likely attack sometime in the next few hours. What could she do? Mos Eisly was not really built for war. No walls. Open streets. And the citizens were not exactly soldiers. Sure, most knew how to carry and use a blaster but that ability was very different from being able to fight.

I have a bad feeling about this, Ley'ela thought.

 

[A'Agghoar]

A'Agghoar was on watch when the speeder came over the dune. Alarmed, he fired a quick few shots, but none hit their target. He quickly asked a fellow Tusken to cover his watch for him. Then he ran like hell to the Warlord's (@[member="Hutuun'Kyramud"] ) tent. He explained to the guard why he was there, then slowly entered the tent.

«Lord, a speeder from the settlement came over the hill, then fled. The occupant was armed, my Leige. »