Survival of the Fittest

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The Majestic drifted through the cold empty space. The Wyyrlok-class Star Destroyer, Darth Pyrrhus' flagship, had just left the ocean pearl of Glee Anselm behind. Recently it had dropped out of hyperspace. Now it was drifting, plotting in a fresh set of coordinates as it was preparing for the next jump. The hyperspace lanes to their final destination were treacherous, and so caution and several short but well-plotted moves were made to minimise risk. Of course there was always a risk. Certain hyperspace lanes had been known to collapse on themselves. Sith Lord or no, there was no coming back from something like that.

Darth Pyrrhus had not given the destination to his newly picked up passenger. She would learn it soon enough. Her potential would be tested here and she would have to prove that she truly was ready to serve him. He expected her to succeed in the end. If not there had no point in giving her any attention to begin with. If not she proved she was ultimately not worthy. It was better to find these things out early, rather than continue believing illusions and false promises.

Naturally, she had been given her own private quarters on the large ship. They did not remain private much longer, as the doors suddenly slid open. It was not the Togruta Lord who stood in the entrance, but a Zabrak. Kregan Fash entered the Acolyte's chambers, not bothering knocking. His skin was a mix of red. As was tradition, his face was painted with the tattoos, light upon dark maroon. He was not quite as tall as Pyrrhus and of a slimmer frame, but at his 180 cm he still stood taller than the brunette. Like her he was an Acolyte. But to him it was very clear how they fit in on the pecking order. He was senior Acolyte, and expected her to treat him with the respect and subservience he felt he deserved.

"So, you're the new recruit." his voice remained calm and neutral but his eyes were filled with disdain. "I wonder how long you will last." his tone suggested he did not expect long. Apprentices came, apprentices died. He had seen it. He had endured. They had not. Would she be any different? There was a reason for his visit, but he didn't feel like getting to that just yet. He wanted to meet her and get to measure her himself first.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

She felt his approach, and as the door slid open, and the significantly weaker presence than Lord Pyrrhus' entered the room, her delicate features fell into a expression of disappointment. Then came the obvious condescension. She felt him, better than he could even feel himself, let alone those around him. She realized, just by grazing his aura with her own perception, where his strengths and weaknesses were. Where she was weak, he was not.... but, conversely, his weaknesses were her strengths.

A soft smile would cut across her lips. "Well then, if I am the new recruit, this makes you the errand boy?" She'd inquire, rising to her feet. "After all, a mere recruit would never warrant the Master's direct attention for a summons, but rather the errand boys." She'd state, her 'gaze' not upon him, but rather seeming aloof, all the while tendrils of her will were poised to strike, preparing to halt him where he stood by piercing his mind and locking the appropriate synapsis to render the Zabrak effectively temporarily paralyzed.

Delicate hands folded in front of her middle, as she finally deigned to turn to 'face' the Zabrak. "I am Rys'sya. What name shall you be called?" She inquired, her velvety voice seeming pleasant enough, but potentially bearing a subtle warning for the young, arrogant Zabrak.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The arrogant Zabrak entered with little respect, and the brunette Miraluka showed him none in return. It was clear right from the beginning that these two would grow to become the bestest of friends.

[member="Rys'sya"]'s very first comment wiped that smug look right off his face. What did she call me? The errand boy was not amused. Instead of catching her off-guard, he caught her smiling and calmly condescending him right back. His fury was building instantly.

"We serve the same Master." he practically spat back at her in a venomous tone. Their roles were the same, he meant, and if that made him an errand boy then so was she. Although in this instance he literally was the errand boy, sent to deliver a message that her presence was wanted at the hangar. "But you are new here. Do not forget your place."

Kregan figured he would either have to break her down to prove he was still top acolyte, or make her an ally. So far he wasn't doing too well in the case of the latter. Right now he was still too angry to really manage to consider the alliance option too much. His hand reached out to roughly grip around her delicate throat with the Force. He wasn't planning on choking her to death, just teaching her a lesson.

"I am Kregan Fash. Remember that." now that smug smile was creeping back up again. "I have served Darth Pyrrhus longer than you have. I know him better than you do. You'd do well not to get on my bad side. You stand to gain more from my favour." he continued, finishing his little introduction speech that could basically be summed up to: I'm top dog, you don't want me as an enemy, play by my rules and I can help you. Meanwhile the Majestic once more made the jump to hyperspace.

 

[Rys'sya]

The Force ringed her delicate neck in it's grip. It was a good, solid hold.... But she's been grappled and tossed about by Sith Lords aplenty. He stirred the wrong wrathful woman's ire. As soon as he had finished his monologue, is when her mind-spike, prepared just at the thinnest part of his limited mental bastion, would be driven home. The effect would be near instantaneous. The duration would be long enough for her to say her fill and leave the room.

He'd feel the last syllable of his rant catch in his throat, as his arm fell limp at his side. His body refused to respond outside of the mandatory survival functions. His limbs were temporarily not his own. They belonged, for the moment, to the Force. She rubbed her neck, scowling at the pertinent youth. "We serve the same Master. Yet you act above your station. Duration of service means little in the grand scheme of things. You are no more, and no less expendable in His eyes as I. I know my place." She'd state as she moved past the motionless Zabrak. She'd not dally, not intent to give him the opportunity to break free and overpower her physically.

As she continued down the hall, following the obvious taint that belonged only to her Master, she intoned over her shoulder, "You would have done well to have remained on my good side. You made all of this happen, you only have yourself to blame. From one Errand Runner to another, let's try to start fresh next time we meet." She held no grand delusions of her status. She knew she was Lord Pyrrhus' servant. And she had no intentions yet of acting as anything more or less than that.

She turned the corner and carried on, lightly rubbing her neck where the muscles still ached from his attack, as she found herself entering the chamber in which her Master awaited, his overpowering presence sending that familiar terrifying thrill up her spine. Quickly dropping in a position of submission before him, those velvet feeling words fell across her lips, sending that tremor once again down her spine. "My Master...."

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Once more [member="Rys'sya"] ensured that Kregan's smug expression got wiped clean off. Perhaps now he'd learn that everytime he started to feel an urge to put on that smile of his, that probably meant he had walked into some kind of trap. Of course, he wouldn't learn. He would, however, likely plot out his revenge.

For a moment he had felt so satisfied, feeling her neck under his grip. He felt in power. Then it hit him, a jolt of pain crashing through his body instantly and having him lose all focus on what he was doing. Then his body went limp. The Zabrak was forced to stand frozen as she lectured him on her point of view. He wanted to snap at her, but his voice found no power. They both sounded stubborn, believing firmly in their own beliefs. One thing was certain, she wasn't about to take any crap from him.

His mind worked in high gear, trying to decipher the leash she had put on him, drawing the Dark Side to him to free him of his chains. So far he had made not made much in terms of progress. He would break free, soon even. However the brunette timed her exit well, and by then she would already be out in the hall. By the time he gave chase out of her room, she would already be too close to Pyrrhus for him to make a move. He'd have to resign to head. Time to find a training dummy for some highly aggressive saberwork.

The Miraluka would follow the signature trace of the Togruta left in the Force, and find him inside of the hangar. For now it was seemingly empty. "Apprentice" he replied, both tone and expression neutral and hard to read. The Star Destroyer would soon reach its destination, and when it did it would be time for them to move.

Again, he noted how her manners were on point. When she rose again he would turn to start walking towards a ship. The Phasma.class Infiltrator, specifically. "Do you have your lightsaber with you?" he asked. The answer, he assumed, would be yes. It was more the follow-up that was the focus point here. Provided the answer was yes, he would continue with: "Give it to me. You will not need it." she probably could have had great use for it, actually. But it could easily become a crutch which she leaned on. This exercise was supposed to train other things than that.

The duo would walk into the smaller stealth ship. It didn't have much space for a large party, but aside from the Nautolan pilot, only the two Sith would be travelling on it.

 

[Rys'sya]

She followed dutifully behind her Master, all the while devising fail-safes to ensure that the haughty Zabrak didn't get the drop on her in the future, as she was certain he would be out to get the 'last laugh'. Then came the request for her lightsaber. A small bell of alarm rang deep in her subconscious mind. She was certain that this, much like the glass of wine, would be a trick, or rather, a test.... But, she knew better than to deny her Master his lessons. Drawing the delicate, curved hilt, she'd surrender it willingly to the much larger Zabrak.

After boarding the ship, she would take a seat, making sure to take on of less significance, ensuring his seating location was superior to her own, wherever it was he decided to sit. "Master, may I inquire about our destination? Or shall I be finding out shortly regardless?" She was unsure which route Pyrrhus would be taking. Would he divulge to his apprentice, or would he simply leave her to flounder through this and hopefully succeed. She didn't dare try peering into his mind, knowing full well he was far more potent in the realm of Mentalism than she was herself. All the while she sat, hands neatly folded upon her lap, every bit the picture of a aristocratic Miralukan awaiting a portrait to be drawn.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

She didn't resist him. He hadn't expected her to. So far she appeared to be of the loyal sort. [member="Rys'sya"] knew her place. She also knew her power, and how for the time being it did not compare to the Lord of Ruin. Pyrrhus was curious to discover just how resourceful the girl would be in the situation he was about to throw her into. He assumed it would be a task and a scenario quite foreign to her. Would she endure, unable to depend on others, or would she succumb to the harsh climate?

Pyrrhus never sat down, but stood by the narrow passageway from the cockpit to the area they found themselves in. By now the Star Destroyer had dropped out of hyperspace. They were going planetside, but naturally that massive thing would be doing no such thing on its own. As such, their transport took off. It was a ship equipped for stealth, and would make its approach unseen to eyes both mechanical and organic. Of course, given the nature of the planet, there was not much mechanics worth mentioning.

"You may" he replied, pausing, making it seem for a moment that that was all he had to say about it. "The planet is a relatively unknown one. Populated by a sentient, but primitive species. It does not partake in galactic politics for it is completely unaware that such things exist." their ship dove down towards the planet, currently making its turbulent entrance into the atmosphere. Pyrrhus grabbed a hold of a cord above his head for balance. "Your task is simple" once again, the main theme of it all would be familiar to her. "Survive."

From what little research intel from his scouts he had received, the natives seemed aggressive. They had their communities but they were often at war with eachother. She would be on her own. An outsider. An alien. The climate was warm and tropic, sometimes unforgivingly so. It was the kind of heat that made physical labour all the more challenging and being hydrated absolutely essential.

"If you survive, I will come and collect you. If you die, you will be forgotten." this was the simple truth of being a Sith. Perhaps a final test, a graduation of sorts, where she proved herself capable enough to act as his personal agent and enforcer.

The hangar door opened, revealing part of the scenery to her. The hot and humid air could be felt even here. The ship was in fact getting quite low towards the ground. Their horizon filled with an endless sea of blue. Ocean. Water, as far as the eye could see.

The Togruta let go of the cord above his head, and casually walked towards the edge of the ship, where the open ramp started. "Are you up to this task, [member="Rys'sya"]?" he asked her, gesturing with his head for her to come join him and look down upon the scenery. As the ship took a turn, off in the distance a beach could be sighted. It was hard to make out what kind of landmass it was, whether island or continent.

 

[Rys'sya]

'Survive...' His words echoed in her head. No saber. No aid. Just her, and the wilds. She.... she could do this.... Couldn't she? Yes.... She had to. She survived the academy, she could survive this. If she couldn't then what good would she have been anyways!

Her natural fear of the unknown was much more difficult to suppress this time, though she would not let it run her. "H-how.... How long will I remain here?" She inquired, 'looking' up to her Master. She could feel the water. The land-mass. The various life-forms in and on each. She could not fathom their numbers or types, just that they were. She knew she had no choice. Her Master was leaving her here, whether or not she wished it. It was not her game to call. It was not her place to oppose. She was weak. He was strong. She would change her truth with time.

Shortly after her master responded, she began removing her robes, revealing simple undergarments. They, themselves, were not particularly flattering in themselves, but her figure, even with what scarring she wore, on the other hand, was remarkable in itself. But, she was blind, so she knew not the aspects of visual stimuli and their impact on others, particularly the males of the sighted races. Setting her robes aside, she turned to face out again. "They would only impede me, and likely leave me dead within a day...." She muttered.

The ship swung low, and she'd step off the vessel on the beach, looking back at her Master for any last instructions, before 'watching' his overwhelming presence fade from her vision. "Shelter.... Water.... Food...." Her task began.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

When she asked how long she could expect to stay on the planet, he felt compelled to answer 'as long as it takes'. For whatever reason, he decided to give her a straight answer. "Roughly a month" there was little sympathy in his voice. He had done the same to other apprentice-candidates, as had his own master done it to him in his early days. It was harsh, but an experience one grew from, sharpening ones survival skills. Of course, Pyrrhus had had an advantage by growing up in a primitive wilderness-type location himself that she would not have.

One month would suffice for her to prove that she could survive on her own. The land would challenge her in various ways by then. Much shorter and she could survive through the aid of meditation and the Dark Side. The time period could be extended, but to discover what he wanted to know, much more than a month would just be wasting valuable time. Should she survive this more traditional training awaited If she proved herself here he could be able to trust sending her alone on certain missions to act in his stead.

The Togruta's eyebrow rose when she started disrobing. Ultimately, her reasoning was probably spot on. The outfit offered her no other benefit than style. And suppose the expensive-looking dress was not one she wanted to go to waste. The woman was beautiful, this much could not be denied. He could not help but appreciate the view she provided. The Sith Lord was master of his emotions and did not let them control him. As such carnal thoughts were brushed aside, although she did leave him with a rather memorable image.

Pyrrhus came up beside her and placed a gentle hand on her back as the ship closed in towards the island. "You are probably right" he replied. Though shelter would probably be a little extra important to avoid that sunburn. The island was still off in the distance, though it was becoming easier to make out the scenery of the beach. [member="Rys'sya"] had probably expected to be able to get a nice, smooth landing so she could walk right onto the beach. "Success or death" became the Togruta's last words to her before he pushed her out from the ramp to let her fall down into the ocean below. Could she swim? He sure hoped so.

 

[Rys'sya]

Well, it seems she gauged incorrectly, as it was not the soft sand of the beach her feet hit, but water. Falling beneath the surface with a yelp, and a mouthful of water, her orientation quickly corrected herself. The water was actually quite shallow, only around fifteen feet deep. She could do this. She began to pull herself through the water towards the shore. In moments she was laying on the sand, panting for a few moments, before dragging herself to her feet. She needed to seek shelter. Moving towards the jungle, she could feel there were no large life-forms nearby. Some small reptile, avian, and mammalian animals, but little else. So, for now she set out to gather some sturdy branches to build a frame, and various materials with which to craft a hasty lean-to.

There, she had some temporary shelter. A start. Something to protect her from the sun, and potentially rain or other such atmospheric anomalies. While she was roaming about gathering materials, she found no natural sources of water, and noticed that what could have been a prey-run paths about a quarter of a mile away from the beach. She should likely be safe for the first couple of nights there while she got oriented and prepared.

After stripping of her damp undergarments, and setting them to dry, the young Miralukan began to meditate for the night, allowing the Force to strengthen her body, to nourish her physically, and to regulate her body temperature against the chilly night ahead of her. Her awareness sharpened, expanded and unconsciously set up a perimeter to alert her to significant threats to her well-being.

In this way, she spent her first night on that desolate island.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The first days on the large island would play out in similar fashion. Her first enemies became the unknown terrain and her lack of resources and tools. Provided she survived that long, by the end of the week she would be in for a surprise. A hunting party came across her on the beach. There appeared to be around ten of them.

The natives looked remarkably like humans in many ways. Humanoid in shape, though taller and more muscular than your average human. In place of skin they had scales, of a crispy white colour. Their nose, if it could be called that, was flat and looked more like they had gills right at the center of their face. They had no hair. Everyone wielded spears. Their secondary weapons were more varied, some carrying axes others short swords.

As for clothing, their outfits appeared to be about as simple as their weaponry. They wore animal hide and light furs mixed together, with painted or carved on patterns. There was clearly some art or meaning to it. As expected with the heat, they were lightly dressed. What they had on their lower body mostly amounted to shorts, their torsos often bare save for something on their shoulders or around their arms.

They would eye her curiously. It was unlikely that they had ever seen an off-worlder before, much less a Miraluka. With caution and their spears at the ready and pointed her way, they slowly approached her. However they did not seem aggressive just yet. After all this was a first encounter, and they weren't quite sure what to expect.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

The day she met the natives.... She felt them coming long before they actually came for her. One took notice of her trails she'd been using to gather supplies to aid in her survival, her 'hunting' trails. When they came, she began working upon their feeble minds long before they ever laid eyes upon her. She had determined who lead them, and the level of respect the subordinates within the hunting party held for their leader. She'd also found the weak links within their mental 'armor', and began exploiting it. Sifting through, she learned of their culture, their societal structure. Who lead, how they lead, and their various superstitions.

She also learned some of their language. And, she learned where to apply her mental pressure to get the responses she needed to keep herself alive. They came to her, observing from just within range to throw their spears if they felt so threatened. Exploiting their spiritual belief systems, she discerned their belief in Death, being a woman without natural sight. She saw no good, and no evil. She simply knew that when it was time for one to die, she came to them for their departure from their mortal coil.

She spoke out loud, her mentalism translating her words directly into their understanding as she did so. "Mortals.... You know who I am.... yes?" The leader of the hunting party would have shuffled back, startled, while his hunters scattered further back, as she slowly stood, turning to face them, with her eyeless visage. "I am here, in form of flesh, to observe your tribe." Her words resonated, unfamiliar to their natural ears, but fully discernible within their minds, due to her mastery over this particular aspect of the Force. "The gods hold your fate in their hands, and wish to determine whether or not to spare your tribe their judgement. Your actions will seal your fate. What will you do?" She asked, the indomitable will of this acolyte impressing a respectful terror into the hearts of these simple hunters through her mental connections.

Their language, while simple enough, would take some time for her to learn, and she hoped she'd learn it fast.... linking to many minds at once was taxing. Very, very taxing.... But, one does what one must to survive....

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The tribesmen stopped. She had noticed them, that much was beyond doubt. Now what would she do? Slowly, realisation dawned upon them. Her words were strange but they understood them. Was this the tongue of the gods? Though her form was different, the eye-bindings fit their image of Death. The way she spoke, the way she presented herself... They knew. Perhaps not all agreed or believed, but they were all thinking the same thing. They at least considered.

Hushed whispers and mutteres were exchanged, as well as bewildered and wondering looks between themselves. Was this truly Death? They would find out eventually, even if they didn't take her word for it now. And at this point it really didn't matter how many of them believed. Only one mattered now, and they all glanced his way. He wasn't their chief, but he was in charge of this hunting party. It wasn't hard to guess why. He was tall, muscular, strong. All of their spears had marks carved onto the side, but his had by far the most carvings.

The gods hold your fate in their hands, and wish to determine whether or not to spare your tribe their judgement. Your actions will seal your fate. What will you do.

The man spoke to his warriors. "The gods are watching" there was little doubt in his voice. She had made him a believer. "We must not disappoint them. We must show that our tribe is strong!" he said in their native tongue, a harsh and guttural language from the sounds of it. "We must show that we are worthy! Attack" his command was followed by a war cry. Shortly thereafter two spears were flung her way, then another after a slight pause. The others were charging at her. The three who threw their spears drew other weapons and charged in after their brothers.

Their goal would either be to capture her and bring her back to be presented to the rest of the village, or to kill her and release her from her mortal trappings. The former was to be preferred. After this, the survivors would hold a feast. Surely the gods would look kindly on them and offer them their blessings if they defeated her.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

This.... Was not how she envisioned this exchange going. Thankfully, she was already inside their minds, so this, coupled with her grasp of the Force, gave her knowledge of their actions even before their synapses started firing off to put thought to action. The first two spears were evaded with ease, as she would grip the third spear in flight, drawing it smoothly into her physical grasp, giving the illusion of martial prowess, as she would twirl the spear about her form, before bringing it to bear before her.

"An admirable attempt, but not quite what the gods had in mind. A tribute was desired, but if you insist on a blood sacrifice...." She'd curl her lips in a snare as she flung forth a hand, sending a rippling wave of Force, flinging the two nearest hunters bodily away from her, and the ones still at range knocked off balance. Had she been stronger in the arts of Telekinesis, they would have all been laid flat. "You!" She commanded, her voice strengthened by the Force, as she addressed the strongest of the hunters. "You, get to decide whom shall be the one to slake my bloodlust! You raised your weapons against the embodiment of Death! There must be atonement!" She watched the two warriors rising from their prone positions, enervated by the fear that she sensed from each of them. She didn't relish the idea of slaughtering all of them.... Perhaps only one or two would be enough to instill enough terror in this tribe, to subjugate them. She didn't need to destroy them all. She merely needed to break them.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The ones closest to her widened their eyes as she caught the third spear mid-air. She was good. This would be tough. Today they brought honour to their clans! She may be skilled but they had the numbers. However for all their martial prowess they could never lay a hand on her. In fact they never even got close. The very air around them rejected them, pulling the ground away from under them and pushing them back. Now the doubters believed too. Surely, she must be a god, for no one could possess this power without being one!

Death spoke, but she spoke not of war or approval. This was their way... But had they misunderstood? Had he misinterpreted the signs? His pace slowed, and he looked upon the scene in front of him with confusion and perhaps even a hint of fear. Even the strongest would crumble if they realised that they had angered the gods and brought ruin upon their people. Two more of the hunters approached her, eager to die for the gods or to bring glory to themselves. One was flung aside with a move of Death's wrist. The other came real close, even jumping into the air and ready to dive his spear into her chest. He flew backwards, sliding across the ground and stopping by the feet of their leader.

You!

Uh oh. Her voice trembled, echoing through both the the air and his mind. He felt his blood grow cold. The other warriors looked upon him, confused as well. Why wasn't he attacking? Why was he holding back? "Stop!" he urged them. Atonement. They had sinned. No attack on her was successful, as if the winds were at her command, forming a barrier surrounding the woman.

"We have angered the gods." he whispered more to himself than the others. He started walking slowly towards her. The others simply watched. "We did not mean it. We misinterpreted your signs, revered one. Forgive us our transgressions. I accept whatever your sentence is." Now only a few feet from her, he threw his spear into the ground by her feet. Perhaps he would have acted differently if not for the tendrils of the Force worming their way into his mind, influencing his thoughts and perceptions. "I will not beg for mercy for myself. This is not our way. I only ask mercy for my hunters. The only fault lies with their commander." he bowed his head in respect. He could ask none of them to be sacrifice. There was none. It would be him. In his heart, he knew the gods would only accept him. This was a test. If he tried to sneak away from his duties, they would surely strike down his village and curse his family.

So quickly their moods had gone from war, to this. But the warriors followed their leader as before.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

She smiled. Her tendrils wrapped deeper into his mind, feeling his heart, the heart of a Warrior. She could use a loyal warrior. "You brave warriors sought to fight against Death. That was your first mistake. Death cannot be fought. Death cannot be stopped. Death can only be brought." She took the spear of the lead warrior, holding it towards him, hilt first. "You.... For your failure, you have two choices for atonement. Either serve me, be my arbiter of Destruction, and you shall live to bring glory in battle, and Death to your foes. Or else, you shall full upon your own spear here, before your fellow hunters, as a blood sacrifice to the gods."

Her sightless gaze moved to the others. "His fate, shall determine your own. Should he sacrifice himself, you will go free, to your homes, with knowledge that the god of Death is pleased with the pride with which your great warrior faced his ultimate death. If he chooses to serve me, so too shall you. And like he, you too shall visit death upon your foes." Her attention returned to the leader. "So decide your end. Glory for the god of Death on the field of battle, or the noble sacrifice for the lives of your men?"

This was good.... The longer they were there, the tighter her hold was upon them. Before long, her imprint would be in place, and there would be no effort needed to subjugate them.

​

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

She spoke, they listened. It was tempted for their leader to take her up on her offer of Death. To be delivered to the underworld by Death herself would surely be an honourable thing. And it would bring freedom and peace to his warriors. Their chieftain had not sent them out here to die or never to return. Then again, he had never sent them to meet a god either. Would he have acted any different, he wondered?

What was the greatest honour? To sacrifice yourself to the gods for your village? Or serve a god? He had two things to offer; life or death.

He had been prepared to die. Upon seeing that, Death had offered him life! A purpose. To atone and serve the gods. Yes. This would have to be the way. His strong hand gripped around the hilt of his spear which she offered back to him. With a dark tone and stern eyes, he looked straight at her and gave her his answer. "I serve." He would not speak for the hunters. The choice was theirs to make, to the extent that Death let them. They all repeated the same phrase, however. I serve. I serve. I serve. All but three.

Were they even free to leave? They backed away slowly. "We serve Adhroga, not you Barbo." they were loyal to their chieftain over this man who simply led the hunting party. Two out of the three had not harmed her, although one had thrown his spear towards her, the very same she plucked out of the air. "This isn't right" one of them muttered. They weren't about to fight the rest though. If permitted they would simply back away and then flee back to their village.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

She watched the three, amused. "You would rather serve a mortal chief, rather than a god?" She gave soft, dark laugh. "You will serve, in this life or the next. Just know, that actions now, will carry over to the next. So, would it not be better to seek glory in service of the god of Death, for further glories after your final breath? Or do you so desperately cling to this life you lead now that you may sacrifice your eternity for fleeting pleasures?"

Sifting through the mind of her first convert, she confirmed his name to be Bardo. "Bardo made a choice. He could have chosen to go on ahead to his eternal reward, which as of right now, would be great. But, by choosing to serve, to fight, and to eventually die, he has chosen to invest, for an even greater reward when his end comes." She stepped past him, address the three who were resisting her sway. "Why then, would you avoid making a similar choice? I do not expect you to conduct your lives differently. I am not asking much of you. Only your loyalty."

Opening her arms towards the three, she continued. "After all, are you not warriors? You already do serve me. You fight, you war, and you kill. All I ask, is that you now actively do this for me, with the conscious thought that it is for me. It is the will of the gods that your tribe grows strong. And I, as Death made flesh, shall see to it. All I ask, is that you submit." Her words wormed deeper into their minds, now that her seeds have been firmly planted in all the rest, she could focus more on breaking these three, before moving onto the next leg of her plan of subjugation.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The three stared at Death, and Death stared back. She was sowing doubt into their minds. But who was she? Was she Death? Yes... Probably... But they had family. Wives. Children. Fathers. Could they really forsake the ones who had given them everything? Would they ever see them again? Was it glory, or eternal servitude, slavery, to Death that she promised? They did not know, and though they did not speak it, they were afraid.

There so many thoughts. So many voices. But one kept pressing on, invading. It was too loud! Too loud to hear! "Ahh" one cried out from exertion, clinging to his head as he fell to his knees. The other two were not exactly encouraged by the sight of their comrade. "Not asking much? You are asking us to give up our lives" Loyalty. Servitude. "We have sworn an oath. You would have us break it? The oaths are sacred" the last one got even paler, if such a thing was possible. Did he really speak up against Death? Woe.

"I serve." the one who had dropped to his knees said. "Khego" the other nudged his shoulder, but he simply repeated. "I serve." The other two gave each other a worried look then a nod. Their fists bumped against each other's shoulders. Brothers until the end. No matter what. They started running.

[member="Rys'sya"]

 

[Rys'sya]

She frowned. The misunderstood her words. She reached into their minds as they took their first steps, every last one of their minds, stopping all where they stood. Minds were momentarily blanked of the next several moments, as she quickly moved to stand further away in the path the two turned to run. When the blank passed, it seemed to them as if no time had passed at all, but she now stood ahead of them inexplicably.

"I do not want slaves. I do not want you to die. I want you to be warriors. I want you to continue existing as you are. All I wish, is for your wars, when they are waged, are waged for Death." She really didn't want to kill these two, not yet at least. "I do not ask you to turn against your chief. I do not ask you to turn against your families. Your tribe. I ask you to serve the gods, to reaffirm your faith." She shook her head slightly.

"Know that I ask, because the gods do not wish for blind servitude. You are free thinking creatures. You can choose to serve us, or choose to not, though the latter option yields poor end results." She'd say shaking her head again. "You may continue to flee from the truth if you wish." She'd shrug slightly, moving out of the brothers ways. "You are free to go." Looking to the others, she continued. "All of you, return to your village, return to your families, your loved ones. I shall come to speak with your Chief and elders in three days time, let them know the god of Death seeks to aid your village in the trying times ahead."

And with that she moved to return to where they first encountered her. She knew, from Bardo's mind, that a neighboring tribe had begun encroaching upon their territory. She'd prepare to set herself up to use this as a rallying point to get the tribe under her sway.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​