Dev The Trials of Eostre

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Location: Rishi, Auric Basin
Objective: The Trials - Attachment
Ambiance:
Tags:

Notable Equipment:
Pyeth's Lightsaber
Pyeth's Spear
Alashgaan

Note: The goal of this thread is to explore the Auric Basin region of Rishi, it's connections to Pyeth, Rharrk and the force entity known as Eostre. Codex, Armour (Pyeth will obtain some new drip) and creature subs will probably follow on from this.

Kneeling to the ground Pyeth looked down into the valley below. Ancient dense jungle overlapped the lightning bolt of rivers that rampaged into a inland sea. Made possible by the rising sun, the shadow of the ancient floating city formed in the waves of heat on the horizon.

The natural force swelled in a flash flood, the sudden updraft of wind blowing dirt and dust into the air. Eostre ascended and unfurled before the kneeling Rishii, her wings spread wide to block out the valley. Her incorporeal body a reflected the living and dead, faces both familiar and unfamiliar bubbled beneath her obsidian wings.

"Child Pyeth," She said in greeting her large avian head arching in welcome. "Have you come in search of guidance?"

Pyeth rose slowly to his talons, the egg-yolk coloured eyes tracking him as it hovered above the sheer drop into the valley. "No. Not this time. I have come to undertake pilgrimage."

He saw. No, he felt her gaze fixed upon him, his feathers instinctively ruffling making him larger. "You seek my permission. I cannot give that which is already granted. Pyeth you are a child of Rishi, no matter what your elders say. However, I ask you carefully consider the consequences. Since the fall of Zaltli only thirteen have succeeded in completing the trials and it is not necessary to prove yourself to me."

"Rharrk completed the Trials before me." Pyeth asked, his direct question caught Eostre off guard. He had never mustered the strength or confidence to do that in their last meeting. "He did as the inheritor of their legacy, but you are of the Raffinki not Zaltli." She sounded almost concerned.

"Our legacy." Pyeth countered sharply and Eostre seemed to bristle but said nothing. He sensed her conflict. She wanted to rebuke him. Send him away. Tell him he wasn't ready for the trials ahead, she was afraid of losing another of her children.

"Whatever power Rharrk claimed I need to see it. He has already claimed Nadira and threatens the same to my lone brood. I am resolved to proceed but would prefer to do it with your blessing."

Eostre appeared to deflate her head dropping low for a moment. "You already have it. Do not forget yourself on this perilous journey."

She moved almost unnaturally in the air, turning with minimal effort to extend a wing at the horizon. "The ruined temple city of Meknes is your destination. Once home of the Zaltli tribe, they united several tribes to forge an Empire. Only those of noble birth or those who complete pilgrimage to the four winds may enter." She turned back to him.

"You will find four shrines somewhere in the valley below. It is home to many predators, including a breeding population of Maun'gur. I cannot intervene. Once you enter the valley, your wings will not be able to carry you back. There is no suitable updrafts or warm air. You will be trapped until you reach the city, so think carefully."

Pyeth sighed giving a final thought to his chosen course. He needed power and he didn't have the time or patience left to wait. He already lost too much and he wasn't sure he could protect his brood without something. Some knowledge or weapon that could put Rharrk on notice.

"I don't have a choice." Pyeth answered and pushed himself off the cliff.

"Strength is making the hard choices. I will await your arrival Pyeth."

His beak punctured the air, sending the flow down his body, through his feathers and finally into his wings. Catching the updraft he cushioned his descent the stoop ending in a accelerated glide above the canopy. His eyes already tracking movements in the canopy, brightly coloured birds crowing in warning as they took flight away from the perceived predator.

Beneath the canopy large armoured herbivores communicated to each other in soft groans. Tree roots coiled through and around the skeleton of a large serpent picked clean by scavengers. A shadow crossed over Pyeth and he looked up to see brightly coloured man-sized moths retreating from the rising sun. An even larger flying reptile swooped through them catching one in its mouth.

Pyeth flinched the sudden appearance of the creature caused the local air patterns to distort and he neither had the time or control to adjust. He twisted his body sideways, narrowly avoiding the flying reptile as it blasted past him to land against one of the river shores. Acting quickly to right himself in time to land horizontal against a tree he sprung board off it and inspected the reptile.

It looked like a creature of legend, none he had ever seen before. Armoured scales covered it's back suggesting there was something bigger and more dangerous in the skies. It's wing span rivaled Eostre a long lithe sky blue body was covered in winged membranes counting at least two different sets, one fanning at the end of a long narrow tail and another supporting the main body.

Devouring the meal quickly, the creature saw and shrieked at him. Pyeth flinched slightly his enhanced hearing making the sound all the more unbearable. It barreled forwards at him, and Pyeth leapt into a roll catching the dirt to pivot around and face it igniting his lightsaber.

' ' - Mimicry

Separators by Lossa Darcuhl​

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Windshear's Ascent​

Location: Rishi, Auric Basin
Objective: The Trials - Attachment II
Ambience: Nay! The Honor is All Ours
Tags:

Notable Equipment:
Pyeth's Lightsaber
Pyeth's Spear
Alashgaan

Pyeth jumped to the side and spun a swift pirouette. His lightsaber ignited, and the unidentified creature hissed in recognition and respect of the two-toned lightsaber. It had encountered the weapon before Pyeth realised. The creature leapt at him, powerful hindlegs propelling it through the air to slice at him with its talons. She didn't lose her balance and renewed her assault, snapping at him with her deadly razors fractions of inches away from Pyeth's head. She jumped away, retreating under the cover of her assault.

However, his Jedi instincts served him well, and Pyeth landed a light blow to her paw. The lightsaber hissed in defiance, the hard scales resisting its cutting edge. He expected to injure her, just enough that she might retreat into the wilderness. She smoothly, gracefully extended her wings, catching the air and inhaling. She roared making the air howl, building a crescendo that tore through him. Using the Force to numb his senses, he leapt to the side feeling an intense pressure slice across the landscape cutting a 3-inch trench and shattering trees. The resulting void dragged him back towards it as air moved to fill in the vacuum.

Pyeth glanced behind him watching the straits of devastation explode outwards into a whirlwind. More than that he felt a familiar sensation, the Force saturated the area and began to pulse into waves. "Remarkable. I've never seen Force Wind used to such effect." Pyeth admitted to himself. The flow of battle had changed and it was clear to him this wasn't a foe he could currently contend with. Pyeth raised his wing-tipped claws thrusting a kinetic blast at the floor, spraying her in a cloud of sand.

She hissed in confusion and frustration, temporarily blinded. Pyeth spun around smoothly, drawing in the energies of the Force into his feet and cannoned himself into the cover of the forest. Recovering, she began shrieking after him. His burst of speed had bought him time. Nothing more. Pyeth needed the safety of stone or a plan. Leaping over brambles and kicking up dirt behind him, he remained acutely aware of the predator pursuing him. Her heavy wingbeats created drafts sprawling like tendrils across the jungle floor.

His ears popped as the air pressure rapidly declined, his instincts raising the alarm. Short on time and without a landmark to guide him, Pyeth shifted his weight and turned. He raised a claw-shaped hand into the air and dragged it down. The two forces collided, Pyeth's hastily erected vortex struggling to divert the energies safely away from him. A v-shaped cone of destruction spread outwards from the clashing energies, and Pyeth felt his mind's reservoir of Force energy deplete as if a dam had broken, flooding out into the barrier. There was a sonic thud. The vortex was sundered. Exhaustion claiming him...

His weary eyes opened silently and Pyeth looked upon a crackling brazier; the warm air welcomed distraction from the ache of his muscles. It was unexpected but not unwelcome. He looked around, surveying the sandstone room. The open-air structure sat atop a fortified wall overlooking what might have once been a courtyard, now reclaimed by nature. Anchored against the mountain, he imagined it may once have been a fortress or strategic structure established to guard the valley. It wasn't something his people had traditionally built, but then again the Zaltli were anything but traditional.

There was rustling of leaves outside alerting him to the new arrival, a young male Rishii who stood in silence and awe. His large eyes were bright and wide, clutching tightly a fresh stock of firewood for the warmth-giving brazier. Pyeth withheld his surprise and spoke softly, "Hello. My name is Pyeth."

That was enough to send him running, dropping the stack of firewood to the floor. Blinking, Pyeth dragged himself onto his feet and tried looking outside. Starlight dominated the skies, the galactic spiral splitting them. Beneath the moon's light, he could see the young Rishii gliding down to meet a small group gathered around a campfire in the courtyard. One of them looked up at him, Pyeth flinching as he raised a wing in greeting.

' ' - Mimicry

Separators by Lossa Darcuhl​

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Location: Rishii, Auric Basin
Objective: The Trials - Attachment III
Ambiance:
Tags: @

Notable Equipment:
Pyeth's Lightsaber
Pyeth's Spear
Alashgaan

Pyeth sat alone listening. He counted no more than thirty Rishii, all but the fledglings and a colourfully dressed Shaman, danced around the pyre drumming leather skin drums and mimicking the whistle of local birds. Some of the elders wore clothing reminiscent of the Maun'gur and even those Moths he saw in the descent. Although he still learning the dialect, he understood the celebration.

They were giving thanks to the spirits of the land and those animals recently slaughtered for the feast to come. At the centre of the Pyre was a quick but carefully crafted effigy of the creature that attacked him. He watched as one of the brighter teal eyed children approached him. Beneath one wing was a doll and held in the other was a bowl.

She offered him the bowl. Pyeth made a conscious effort to raise his tufts cocking his head to one side in thanks. Taking the bowl he studied it's contents. Diced red meat saturated in a dark looking broth, the bowl looked like a hollowed out fruit or nut sliced in two. He flinched in pain, feeling something sit next and brush up against him. Raising a wing slightly he looked under to see the fledgling. She cooed at him and Pyeth raised the bowl and fished out a chunk with his hooked beak.

The taste appeased his carnivorous instincts. The meat was fresh and cooked rare, the lightly spiced broth left a minty and sweet after taste that caught him pleasantly off guard. Being a carnivorous species, he didn't often get to experience the same breadth of flavour the omnivores of the galaxy did. Slowly his ear tufts rose indicating his happiness.

Seeing his reaction the child chirped happily and encouraged him to eat more. Smiling behind his beak, he eagerly finished the meal and drank down the broth. With a shiver he expelled the cold and cooed as the warmth swelled inside him.

"Do you want more?"

It took a second to process what she had asked, but he got there and replied, "No, thank you." He glanced over at the large cauldron, the markings on it indicated it had once been the domed head of a astromech droid, probably scavenged from a nearby republic crash site. Rishi vast reserves of exonium had often made it a strategic target. Mandolorians, Pirates, The Republic, Sith Lords and Jedi were but a few of their would be masters. Yet the planet always seemed to find a way of exchanging wings.
"No, thank you." She repeated in his voice. Pyeth smiled. He knew this game well and said with a wing to his chest, "My name is Pyeth."

Once again, she repeated the phrase murmuring his name a couple of times until she got the pronunciation right. "My name is Usoa."

Pyeth repeated it back to her and so on it went. An hour later and he could almost say he had a firm grasp of the dialect and accent, enough at least to have a reasonable conversation. It was a good thing too, as others would soon visit him with questions and greetings. Before long, he had a small semi-circle of children listening and watching him. He told them stories and answered their questions as best he could without unduely influencing them. He was conscious of the elders presence and didn't want to show any disrespect.

Before long, the children were whisked away by their families and returned to communal nests. They didn't fly, only gliding or climbing into their homes by the way of ivy weaved rigging. Usoa was one of the last having fallen asleep against his fluffy plumes. When her parents came he did his best not to disturb her and let them cradle her.

"Thank you pilgrim."

Pyeth nodded in thanks and watched the group of elders approach, still dressed in ceremonial garb. None were armed except the crow-like Hunt Chief who rested on Pyeth's own spear. When they found him it was evident they had removed any and all weapons from him, including the lightsaber.

"Sunspeaker. I am honoured to have the chance to speak with your council." Pyeth said respectfully towards the brightly plumed Rishii who led them. Sunspeakers were the diplomatic representatives and messengers of the Rishii tribes, their name was derived from ancient times when a Nocturnal tribe had made first contact with off-worlders. Some claimed that once all Rishii may have once been nocturnal but with off-worlder influence that changed.

"And we are glad to have found you. When we heard Windshear's roar we had feared the worst." She replied returning his bow.

"Few in our tapestry can claim to have drawn her ire and survived."

"Windshear. Suitable name." Pyeth nodded recalling the effects of her breath weapon.

"How are your injuries, you appear to have recovered quickly."

"I am slowly stitching myself back together. Wing still hurts though. I was healer amongst my tribe, the Raffinki."

"A useful skill. You are a hunter too?" She asked turning to the spear held in the Hunt Chief's claws.

"I was. My father is..." Pyeth caught himself in a lie and shook his head mournfully. "... Was Hunts Chief, but it has been many years."

The Sunspeaker nodded appearing satisfied with his answer. "It is a good pair of skills to have. It's been many moons since we had a healer and I am certain your hunting skills can be of benefit to our community."

"Forgive me for sounding ungrateful but I haven't come to join your tribe. In fact, I was hoping you might help me."

"Yes. Our parliament understands your purpose here and we would be glad to show you the way provided our concerns are alleviated and your strength is returned." She reached into a leather satchel and pulled out his lightsaber, igniting it with confidence.

"This weapon we have seen before, a Rishii named Rharrk Zaltli. He came here as you did, claimed he would take the throne and restore his heritage. This tribe cared little for the glories of our past but he promised us sanctuary from the holy Maun'gur.

Many of us, our ancestors are pilgrims like you and him. Who got trapped here or decided to make a life for themselves in this holiest of lands. We had always endeavoured to help any pilgrims who came, very few in our history have succeeded. He did. I cannot say what happened when he returned to the city of the Zaltli, but Windshear appeared not long after. Filled with rage and anguish she tore through our old homes and many lives were lost.
She let you live and our Shaman would understand why. Our hunt chief would know your heart before we expedite your travels through the basin."

Pyeth considered her words carefully. This could add weeks to his journey but without their help his job could become that much harder. They knew the lay of the land and of they knew Rharrk, perhaps he could learn more about his enemy.

"I understand. Once I am recovered I will endeavour to earn your trust but I will need my equipment returned to me."

"This weapon will remain in my care. You understand too well it's capabilities." She countered and Pyeth looked distraught. He didn't dare argue, she was right to fear it.

"I am sorry, but it is simply too dangerous to be in the possession of a stranger." She said in a sincere effort to offer comfort.

"I understand. If I may suggest a compromise?"

She cocked her head his offer catching her by surprise. "Please go on."

"It is powered by a crystal, that holds great importance to me and my tribe. The weapon is useless without it, may I take it?" She went silent and turned to the others, they spoke softly before she turned back to him.

"That is agreeable." Pyeth nodded in thanks and raised a wing to take the weapon. The Hunts Chief clacked their beak in warning. He moved slow enough that they could see what he was doing and made a conscious effort to avoid ignition switch. Finally, exposing the crystal he took it and pulled away.

This seemed to gain him some goodwill as the others relaxed and nodded amongst themselves.

"Forgive us, but you will need to share accomodation with one of our families. Our Shaman," she extended a wing towards them, "Abena has volunteered until we can find you something more permanent."
Pyeth looked at the Shaman once more, inspecting them more closely. She was the oldest amongst the group, her feathers duller and eyes pale. She had a gentle demeanour that Pyeth could appreciate, "Thank you. I will do my best not to disturb you or your family."

Abena trilled in laughter. "Come now child. I would hear those stories you enamoured our fledglings with. Come. Come."

Pyeth got to his talons, taking back his spear when it was offered. She led him through the village to one of the larger homes and began the short climb up. Despite her age, Abena handled herself comfortably and was helped at the top by a younger male he recognised.

He offered Pyeth a wing too and he took it. "Welcome friend. How are you feeling?" Pyeth was taken back by their warmth and hospitality. He expected some blow back or frustration but was feeling none of that.

"Better, in no small thanks to you. My name is Pyeth."

Their immediate response was to raise their tail slightly and look a sheepishly at him. The elder jumped in to say softly, "Pyeth is a healer of his tribe."

"Oh," They exclaimed, "Thank you. I am Viari."

' ' - Mimicry

Separators by Lossa Darcuhl​

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Location: Rishii, Auric Basin
Objective: The Trials - Attachment IV
Ambiance:
Tags:

Notable Equipment:
Pyeth's Lightsaber
Pyeth's Spear
Alashgaan

' ' - Mimicry

There was no fast and painless way to perform an amputation, Pyeth knew. Not if it was done correctly. A neat amputation required a flap of skin, a sacrifice to cover the stump.

Deftly Pyeth began to slice into the flesh around the fledglings tail, nearby Viari noted the expressions of the people in the hut. The fledglings father stood straight, arms crossed. His tight beak didn't quite hide signs of worry, though whether it was sympathy for his son or anxiety about weather he'd collect enough food without his sons help, he could not tell. Probably a bit of both.

The mother cradled her son's head in her wings, brushing away the tears. The boys beak was agape, pitiful coos and crows. Despite the father's warning, his eyes watched Pyeth's work. The boy remained still so far, not moving his wounded tail or so much as squirming. Such control impressed Pyeth, especially in one so young. This tribe was hardy, he wondered silently if that would change. The worst was yet to come.

Pyeth's eartufts furrowed in concentration. He carefully peeled the skin back, he flicked his own tail signalling Viari to hand him the jointer knife from the brazier, then took the peeler from his hand, he heard the splash the blade being cleaned. The air hissed, water evaporating.

Pyeth began the cut, he caught the swipe of the fathers tail and heightened sound of a mother's comforting coos marred by dread. "Look away" Pyeth said, seeing her head turn away abruptly he resumed his work.

Pyeth placed the bloodied tool on a surgery board with a clunk of finality. Quickly he handed it back to Viari, who handed him a needle, already threaded with wire. Pyeth cast a eye over the tail at the end of the surgery board. The feathers were coarse, a black oozing mass, but he saw pink and healthy flesh throughout the cut end.

Reassured in his work, he sighed. It had been bitten by a Ihu. A hound sized reptilian carnivore they had been hunting, it's saliva was worse than its bite. Worse neither father or son had told them until the wound had festered. Sometimes it took time and extreme pain to drive the proud to find help, let alone seek the removal of a body.

Left too long the infection might have spread, poisoned the blood leading to a fever and eventually death. It fascinated him that pride would drive people to such lengths as to risk their own life. It also scared him, as a Padawan of Tiland Kortun he had seen more wounds, illness and death than most people did in their lifetimes. But he had also seen diseases cleansed, chronic illness relieved and lives saved and every face seared into his memory.

Pyeth cut the thread and handed it back to Viari, the skin flap closed over the stump of the fledglings tail. He took some fibre bandages, looked at the father and immediately decided against it.

"Here take this," Pyeth told the mother

She nodded following his guidance, wrapping it over his handiwork. "When I remove this, the blood in his tail will regain its flow. You must hold it firmly, until the bleeding stops."

She grinded her beak uneasily, Pyeth loosened the binder and blood swelled. He shuffled back and watched silently as the mother stroked her son's feathers. Once the bleeding stopped, he gave the family instructions on how to replace the bandaging and to keep the wound clean. Then he collected his things and left, Viari in tow.

"Why did you do that?" Viari asked inquisitively.

"Do what?" Pyeth asked in turn, looking at the younger healer, his large eyes inspecting him carefully.

"You could have applied the bandaging yourself, but you didn't."

"Oh. Well it's a simple task and I've learned that allowing families to be involved in the healing process gives them a sense of control. It... Helps give them comfort and means they're more receptive to my instruction."

Viari eartufts rise slowly in understanding and he nodded affirmatively, "That is excellent advice. Your master must be proud."

Pyeth stood in silence, allowing the thought to worm it's way through his mind. Tiland had taught him so much, perhaps more than he cared to admit. But proud? No. That wasn't Tiland's style.

"Master?" Viari asked and simultaneously turned as a voice cried out behind them.

"It would seem our work is not yet done." Pyeth said walking out to meet the tribesmen...

Separators by Lossa Darcuhl​