Public The Village

[Raigryn Vayd]

OOC: open to the first FOUR people to join. Because seven samurai is too many to keep a thread going..

---

The peace and quiet was disturbed quite abruptly. Gelt was passing through the small town. An outer rim world that no one from any civilised planet would be able to map. The sound of the gentle breeze and workings on their fields to rudely disturbed by the whine of a land speeder.

Gelt had been enjoying a simple meal. Despite having nothing to offer, the locals had provided a roof and sustenance for a night and day. As angry voices were raised, he stood from the table and stepped outside.

"We would have more to offer if you hadn't taken our strongest men..." the village elder was standing his ground in the middle of the most beaten track through the centre of the town.

"And they have served Allaxas well, but you are behind on your shipments. Do you not want your own sons to eat?" A tall pau'an stood before him, flanked on either side by old IG class droids wielding electrostaffs. There was at least one more of the group still in the landspeeder on the edge of the town.

He had heard a little of the town's troubles. A warlord named Allaxas who rounded up young men for some off-world war he was waging, leaving the town destitute.

"We cannot work the fields any harder with how few we have..."

"You will work them harder. If I leave my droids to supervise I am certain they will find the will to..."

"I am sure you can find another arrangement," Gelt called out, stepping into the sunlight. Both turned to him. The village elder shook his head slowly, urging Gelt not to interfere.

"Offworlder, you would be wise to keep out of this," called out the pau'an. He raised one hand and the two droids turned towards Gelt.

Gelt pulled back his outer robe, letting them see the lightsaber at his hip.

The pau'an eyed the saber and slowly closed his hand. The two droids stilled.

"Is this your plan? A single mercenary?" the pau'an hissed at the elder. "Two weeks. Two weeks and we come back and he had better not be here and you will have met the quota."

Gelt was given a sharp glance as he turned and walked back to his landspeeder.

"That was foolish. People have tried to resist before. Their towns were burned to the ground, their people taken...we do not know where. Maybe the same place our sons were sent. That might be our fate now. You should leave," the elder told Gelt.

"I saw a subspace radio?" Gelt asked. He kept his eyes on the two droids, holding his ground until they had left.

"An old one, but we have nothing to offer anyone who could help us."

"Put out the call. They may be some who would help without the promise of payment. Tell me what you know of Allaxas."

---

OOC/ Yes it's another seven samurai rip off. Maybe it hadn't been done enough yet...

 

[Jared Starchaser]

He definitely knew who his father was. The Jensaarai-Jedi did use his family name to capitalize on a large number of things, but it wasn't everything that Jared was. No. Jared was a Hunter of the Fringe. A group of beings who were traveling the fledgling worlds of the Outer Rim and the Unknown Regions, places that have seen governments and protection come and go, places that could use a hand that worked for fuel, rations, and Talons, or credit. Was he a bounty hunter?

He didn't think so. Maybe he was. He followed the Force, the requests on old Underground and Academy Network, and working how the Wardens did. That was how he found worlds that needed his help. Today, though, today he heard a call on the subspace. A village needing help. The Sunrise made the small jump to the world and followed the coordinates. He tried to send a message but even his ship was in need of repairs.

The vessel, looking much like a bird of prey swooped to the outskirts of the village. Descending the boarding ramp, the Hunter looked around. Small, backwater. Not unlike what he worlds he normally found himself on. And the message gave the location of a small hostel. Without armor, besides the terentak leathers, he made his way into the town, blaster on one hip, lightsaber on the other.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

When he had first accepted assignment as a Clan emissary, he had found space to be empty. Devoid of the sounds a living planet made. So far from the spirits of his ancestors. Voices of a distant star, so faint that barely a sound could be heard.

Now, he found the stillness inviting. A freedom from distraction that allowed a warrior to pour his whole self into either meditation or action.

The sound of metal striking against metal echoed through chamber. The young Dathomirian wielding the familiar bladed staff of his people against a ghostly apparition holding the same. With precision, the apparition mirrored the youth’s movements as the ancient forms were practiced with both repetition and fervor.

It was the endless game. If this were the Nightbrother Arena on Alaris Prime, then Jorah would have either bested or been bested by his opponent by now. But this was not. In its place, the youth trained in a hologym – to borrow the phrase from Jerek – and the computer-generated opponent merely reflected back whatever efforts that Jorah put forward.

It was almost poetic that his only opponent should be himself. The frustration he felt was not toward the hologym, but himself. The machine was soulless. Lifeless. It knew no hunger. It had no exhaustion. It followed its program, and Jorah was the one whose effort would slowly fade as the strength began to drain out of the arms holding the weighted staff.

A muted chime echoed overhead before a voice came overhead to utter “His gen.”

It was not the polite way of the Jedi. People of Dathomir did not communicate save for directly. Taking a step back, the boy disengaged from his opponent. As though staring at a mirror, the zhaboka of the young shaman and his hologram counterpart followed each other's movements as the staves were returned to the ceremonial position. And then the boy bowed toward the ghostly apparition – the nonverbal cue for the hologym to switch off.

Turning, the boy made his way from out of the modified cargo area. Jerek Zenduu had repurposed this old freighter for him, the ship lined with leather, bones, and various plants to help put the Nightbrother at ease in transit. The cargo area transformed into a place he could meditate or train. Returning his zhaboka to the weapon rack, the red-and-black skinned youth marched into the cockpit and said, “Ci meni an’te.”

A DUM-series pit droid operated the controls. It was merely called Pilot, and such was its role on this ship. “Shureen meni jafidetri naletnle,” the droid supplied in Paecian, gesturing as it spoke toward the panel that the Nightbrother had come to understand functioned as the ship’s means of communication.

Or, at least, communication as non-Dathomirians understood it.

“K'sellah,” the boy uttered, returning his attention to the droid.

“Shar s'lityo hai meni s'sizeva.”

That got the boy’s attention. A distress signal? Did a traveler call for aid? “Taea,” the boy uttered, his head turning as he tried to recall where the vessel kept its star maps.

“Szi eneno tze dan tȃnika kelafia ar sotfr fiditar,” the droid answered. Where this call originated from, there was no map. Or, merely empty space on the map. “Shar tul meni zoehu'narate,” the pilot droid warned.

Zoehu'narate. A trap? Perhaps.

Perhaps a challenge in either case. That was good. The boy gave a smile that showed his teeth. Their last assignment had been carrying medical supplies to a refugee camp. A noble task, but also a rather boorish one. “Dene shureen larsla,” the youth quipped eagerly before glancing back down at the diminutive droid and commanding, “Melo kolna.”

With that, the boy turned to leave the cockpit. He would prepare himself spiritually for whatever they might find at the end of this... distress call.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Jorah zos Darnus Jared Starchaser Raigryn Vayd

Tiland paused in his Omber-class vessel and switched channels until it finally focused on a specific channel. He shifted in his seat and adjusted the controls. A call for aid from a distant world from a mysterious source?

That was something Tiland could never turn down. It practically made his ears itch with the possibilities. There was little sense that he could pick up from the Force, be he traced the coordinates back and reset the hyperdrive coordinates.

The Ukkablian vessel spat off into the distance, the night turning into the blue clouds of hyperspace. It would not be long, not with this hyperdrive.

Shortly after, the vessel dropped out of hyperspace and Tiland guided the unarmed vessel down, landing at a small village, in which he felt a familiar presence, perhaps two. He took a deep breath, gathered up his satchel and his wooden staff, and walked down the ramp to find out what was happening.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Tiland Kortun Jorah zos Darnus Jared Starchaser

Atnthe centre of the village was a large campfire. It was surrounded by concentric rings of treelogs being used for seating. Gelt sat near the flicking fire. He was hunched forwards, elbows on his knees and his gaze on the ground.

Any of the others who came would be offered a hot drink and a place by the fire.

"These outsiders will bring us ruin." It was hardly a warm welcome. One of the youngest adult men Gelt had seen here was addressing the others angrily. The cheap prosthetic leg and walking stick explained his age, Gelt decided.

"They offer us protection when we can offer nothing in return," replied the elder.

"It doesn't matter what they charge! It's what Allaxas will do. You haven't seen his forces. I have. He takes young men from settlements all across the region to that camp up on the plateau. Trains them up, mixes them in with the war droids and veterans he has and ships them off world! There's always another army getting ready and now it's going to be coming here! "

"You were wounded there and sent back?" Gelt asked, finally speaking up.

The young man nodded.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

The young Nightbrother spent the trip in spiritual reflection.

It was the first duty of every warrior of Dathomir. Since the ship had set sail across the expanse of stars, he had undertaken a fast. His body was flesh, and the flesh was weakened by temptation. Hunger represented that temptation, while he instead nourished his mind with the wisdom of his ancestors. A scroll of aging loub-paper lay open across his lap, as he sat on the deck of the ship and read through a fragmentary account that had been written down by the third Shaol'ma'ka and recounted the Dagoyan Masters of Bardotta, as had been told to the Nightsisters by Talzin -- the great sage who had also written Wild Power.

Very little remained of that time. What did had been passed down by those early Mistwalkers, or told through visions with the spirits -- but the stories told by the spirits held truths shrouded in lies.

The chime echoed through the ship. The signal that they would soon be exiting the hyper-space.

The time for spiritual reflection had ended. Now was time to break the fast, that he might prepare his body in case battle awaited them. Gathering the scroll, the boy secured it back into its sheath before reaching up to touch his ears, eyes, and lips in a ceremonial gesture.

If this was a war party, they would feast on a fatted calf. But this was not. It was a ship in space, and so the fast was broken instead with a pungent, salted tea brewed with nerf milk -- a good source of calories -- served with a ration of dried bantha meat.

Perhaps this planet that called for aid would offer some good hunting. Space did not seem to abide a hunter. The things which Jedi called food were suspect at best. Particularly whatever foul machinations constituted the so-called autochef.

Food dispensed by machines was soulless indeed.

The fast broken, the boy made his way to the refresher to bathe, discarding the simple sarong that he wore for leather armor. While girding a bracer to his arm, the chime sounded again through the ship. Twice this time.

They had arrived.

The boy's amber eyes looked up toward the ceiling. There was no sound of battle. No trap seemed to be upon them. That was good. He preferred a fight on the ground to one in space.

It did not do well for a warrior to kill and not look his prey in the eye as he did.

One modern convenience was the Jedi utility belt that the boy wrapped around his waist, a rather tell-tale sign of the influence that Jerek Zenduu had on the boy, even before he clipped the folded lightsaber to his hip, nestled alongside a spellblade.

By the time the youth had made his way back to the cockpit, the ship had already descended below the clouds.

The world which greeted his vision seemed tranquil. Pastoral. Much like the moon of Alaris Prime, the home of his village, this seemed a world left to nature. Not the spaceport that Denon was. Or the nightmare-inducing spires of metal that had greeted him on Byss.

The ship set down in a clearing.

As the loading ramp descended, the boy stepped over to the door exiting the ship and then reached over to the weapon rack to grab an energy bow. The weapon pulsed to life in his grip, carried in hand as he made his way out into this alien world. The moment his feet touched down on solid earth, he felt an instantaneous connection. A sigh of relief ran through his body, even as a sense of foreboding washed over him. It was death. That much was familiar to him. "Tzela meni zyse. Ci tul nok shar."

Beside him, the pit droid waddled to the end of the ramp, a device of some kind in its tiny, mechanical hands. "Mata het taltalu meni yot jakiyak," the droid supplied in Paecian, using one spindly arm to gesture off in a direction as it added, "Ti foatal naese au fahde."

Whatever call they answered now, it was in that direction.

So that was the direction he would go. "Ait'k I'shuree jidite," the boy uttered, as he set off. Behind him, the diminutive droid made its way back up the loading ramp, which then slid upward until the ship was sealed up.

He walked for a while, just enjoying the sensation of the air on his face. It seemed peaceful here.

But if that were true, then why the call for aid?

And why did death linger in this place?

 

[Jared Starchaser]

He should have replaced this ship years ago. It was an older Outer Rim design, based off of one his father started. It was an advanced space frame even for this day. Still, the actual construction was a bit aging. Like any good Starchaser though, the ship was him and he was the ship. Jared had the presence that proved he was the no bantha poodoo type. With the call came a bit of expectation. He had no problem with that.

It was why he came. To help.

Taking the drink, Jared sipped it as he looked around. Listening, he was hearing the same conversation Raigryn Vayd was. People, kidnapping people.

Nothing extraordinary about that.

"Ruin? We came when the call for help went out. Please, let us know more about those coming, so we can best assist." He was definitely not having their lip. Normally when he arrived, it was a beast, or Force sensitive that he had the skills to defeat. This one may be a bit different.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Raigryn Vayd Jorah zos Darnus Jared Starchaser

Tiland paused as he stepped off the ramp of his ship before making his way to where he could smell the fire and food, where several others were gathered. Jared, he recognized. The others, he did not. He took the proffered warm drink gratefully and settled himself slowly to the ground next to the fire.

"I am Tiland Kortun," he explained, "I understand there was a distress call of some kind? Can you fill me in?"

He looked around, studying the looks on the faces of the people around him. There were many emotions here. Hope, bitterness, fear. Worry. All quite natural feelings in a crisis. He doubted his appearance would give them much support. He was an old-looking man, with white hair and a deeply lined face, with no weapons anywhere on his person except perhaps his staff and his ancient battered satchel that hung across his shoulders.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Another two!?" the young man called out incredulously, waving at Tiland Kortun and Jorah zos Darnus

"It was my decision to put the call out Dellan," the town elder said, waving a hand to try and placate him.

The young man seethed. He shifted his weight to his real leg, looking as if he was going to throw his crutch at the elder.

"What's going on," Dellan announced towards Tiland, "Is that the four of you are getting killed and - if we're lucky - they'll just burn half of the town to the ground."

The elder eyed Dellan until he sat back down.

"Allaxas recruits young men from all the towns in the region. They operate out of a ground star destroyer to the east," the elder told Jared Starchaser . "We have eight days before they come back with mercenaries and battle droids to teach us a lesson for not producing enough for them this quarter."

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

The trees of this world were particularly pleasant.

The birds, on the other hand, had the most peculiar dialect...

"Another two?"

Drawn from his reverie with the spirits, the Nightbrother realized he had wandered into a field where several others had begun to gather. All were older than he, and all were male. That last fact was both disquieting and also comforting for the fact that he didn't have to worry about upsetting the local witch with his presence.

"I am Tiland Kortun," the eldest among them stated. A seemingly venerable old monk with a beard that made Jorah wonder what he'd look like with hair like that. "I understand there was a distress call of some kind? Can you fill me in?"

"What's going on," a man answered the elder with the beard, "Is that the four of you are getting killed and - if we're lucky - they'll just burn half of the town to the ground."

The black tattoos over the boy's eyes arced upward on his brow. It seemed that fear and anger were in no short supply.

Calmly, the boy peered around and introduced himself. "I am called Jorah," the teen stated politely, giving a bow toward the collective group. Though he regularly used Galactic Standard when he communicated with the Jedi, the language still felt awkward to him. As the youth straightened back up, he added, "I am also answering the summons."

"Allaxas recruits young men from all the towns in the region. They operate out of a ground star destroyer to the east," another elder man was commenting to one of the other men. "We have eight days before they come back with mercenaries and battle droids to teach us a lesson for not producing enough for them this quarter."

"Will Allaxas be returning in eight days?" the youth inquired curiously, slinging the energy bow across his back. "Or will he prefer to let others speak for him?"

The former would be preferable. However, Jorah had come to anticipate the latter from men who lorded themselves over weaker people. They would rather prove the strength of their armies than their personal strength.

But if they could skip that and get straight to the real battle, the Nightbrother would appreciate the simplicity of this task.

Raigryn Vayd Tiland Kortun Jared Starchaser​

 

[Jared Starchaser]

There was at least one other he recognized. It was good to see Master Kortun, he knew that his father would request guidance from the Anzati Jedi. It was good to see him. Meant that more than just the common wandering do-gooders were hearing the call. Of course, he really didn't know the other two who would become part of this little strike team.

Hearing the elder speak, he wanted to step up and state that they were not going to be doing. None of the today. Or, apparently, in eight days. Unlike his father, Jared was one of unbridled aggression. He understood how to fight wars with the passion and calculation that a Chiss would use.

He knew how to fight the dark side, and how to fight the wilds. But this would be different.

"And if they are coming, do you have an idea of how many they are? Or could someone bring us a map to their base? May not hit them there but get an idea of what we are up against." Research was not always his forte, truth be told, his sister was the better of the two at that. But he could understand weapons and counts of mercs.

Jorah zos Darnus Raigryn Vayd Tiland Kortun

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Raigryn Vayd Jared Starchaser Jorah zos Darnus

"If I die," Tiland said with a shrug at the young man's words, "I suppose it will be my time has come." He finished with a wave of his hand. "But we shall see what happens when the time comes."

As the others spoke, he nodded, listening. Those were good questions. "And will they speak at all?" Tiland added after a moment, considering "Or will they go straight to violence?"

At the mention of the grounded star destroyer, his eyebrows rose. "A star destroyer, you say? That is different. Rare to find those around these parts, certainly in the hands of brigands and robbers."

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

OOC note/ I might break posting order from time to time in future during this "down time phase" so people get answers as we go.

"Will Allaxas be returning in eight days?" the youth inquired curiously, slinging the energy bow across his back. "Or will he prefer to let others speak for him?"

Dellan, still seething and staring daggers into the flames spoke up before the elder.

"He won't concern himself with a town this small. Idris, his Reckoner, will come back with more people."

"The pau'an I met before?" Gelt asked.

The elder nodded.

"And if they are coming, do you have an idea of how many they are? Or could someone bring us a map to their base? May not hit them there but get an idea of what we are up against."

This time the elder actually looked towards Dellan and gave him the nod to speak first. Gelt wasn't certain if it was in deference to his first hand experience or to placate the angry young man.

"I don't know. If he's training a new army to sell of world it could be thousands and thousands. More likely a few hundred at first. Probably more of his experienced mercenaries and droids than locals. People don't like being ordered to burn their own towns down. They've got light armoured carriers too."

"And will they speak at all?" Tiland added after a moment, considering "Or will they go straight to violence?"

The elder answered this time: "Idris will make his demands again. If they're not met, he'll carry out his threat."

"A star destroyer, you say? That is different. Rare to find those around these parts, certainly in the hands of brigands and robbers."

"It doesn't work," Dellan said. He had pulled his severed leg from the prosthetic and was nursing the stump. It hurt him on cool nights. "Well...the reactor still works, some of the turbo lasers. Never flying again. Some say it crashed here after a battle up above."

Gelt looked to Jared Starchaser and to the Elder.

"I think we four should go and see this for ourselves. We will need a guide or a map."

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

"He won't concern himself with a town this small. Idris, his Reckoner, will come back with more people."

Unfortunate, but not unexpected. Even as the man offered the answer, the teen bowed his head in in silent acknowledgement of the man's words.

"The Pau'an I met before?" one of the other men asked.

"Pau'an," the Dathomirian echoed, rolling the word around on his tongue before he glanced at the man who had spoken and confessed, "I do not know this word."

From the rest, Jorah could get an idea. He had witnessed these so-called armored carriers when he had fought beside the Alliance at Byss. Whoever this warlord thought himself to be, it seemed his nexus of power was little more than a large blaster and fear.

Such petty kings dotted the landscape of Dathomirian legend. Many had fallen. Many more would as well. Such was the way of things.

It seemed as though the group were venturing to see this destroyer of stars that had crashed to the ground. If Jorah understood their meaning, then that meant it was one of the larger ships that sailed the sea of stars.

To see one beached upon a planet would be a sight, indeed.

Such was to be expected. The ways of non-Dathomirians was often obfuscated by the technology they used and the terminology that they insisted upon. The Nightbrother would be silent, following the lead of these elder brothers.

Once the fighting broke out, then they'd all be speaking the same language.

Raigryn Vayd Jared Starchaser Tiland Kortun​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Raigryn Vayd Jared Starchaser Jorah zos Darnus

Tiland interlaced his fingers as the villagers spoke, answering questions and responding from the other ones. The angry young man, he could understand. It was not easy to be badly injured, especially when caused by something outside of their control.

"Yes, seeing this base of theirs will give us a sense of what they are capable of," he considered for a moment before tapping one finger on his knuckles. "Perhaps there will be some way to sabotage the armored personnel carriers, to limit their flexibility and their advantages."

Possibilities unspooled in his mind, but he kept them to himself as he considered the various consequences. Few were good, none of them were easy, especially with the three of them. The villagers could, perhaps, be swayed to their cause.

"Would any of these soldiers or villagers they've taken be willing to change sides or aid us discreetly?"

 

[Jared Starchaser]

The Hunter didn't fear death. He wasn't really excited by it, but he wasn't thinking this was going to do it. Maybe it was the Starchaser blood in his veins, but he was just not thinking some pirate king was going to take him down. Not with all he'd seen and done. But he wasn't going to broadcast that energy to anyone who wasn't reading him in the Force. He was suspecting raiders, a small force, maybe one ship, two or three at the very most.

But when the other, Dellan, spoke, thousands and thousands? They could push back a small force, but that was not anything small. "If the Destroyer doesn't work, that takes a big hit to their numbers. I'm agreeing with Gelt, we should go ahead, get our eyes on it." He was classically trained for reconnaissance, well… if by classical a paramilitary force of post-Empire Chiss warriors was considered classical.

He looked to the Night Brother, he could sense that type of Force training, having run across Witches in the past. "We can use some of our own ships to at least watch the skies. Can't promise we could take anything down… I'm not exactly set for stopping a force like that. Could use some mines… I think we'll need to get them down on the planet. Go for the head of the serpent, as it were."

But to the Nightbrother, he nodded and spoke low to not call attention too much. "You following?"

Raigryn Vayd Jorah zos Darnus Tiland Kortun

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Pau'an," the Dathomirian echoed, rolling the word around on his tongue before he glanced at the man who had spoken and confessed, "I do not know this word."

Gelt turned towards the dathormirian. Of those who had come to help, he was most curious to know what had attracted him to the distress call.

"Tall, grey skinned. You will recognise him if there aren't any more of his kind here."

"Would any of these soldiers or villagers they've taken be willing to change sides or aid us discreetly?"

Dellan shook his head: "He's got this whole region under his thumb. He won't send too many of our own people out here to collect payment. There have been attempts to rebel before. And everyone remembers what happened.

Gelt could feel the atmosphere shift. Even those villagers glad of aid looked uncomfortable as they recalled horrors of the past.

"I agree, let's go and see this downed destroyer and base. Gauge what they have on world now, what they might send here," Gelt said. "We will need a landspeeder and a guide."

The elder nodded slowly. "We can provide a guide," he agreed, "but no working speeders here."

Dellan seemed agitated and spoke up again: "Even if you four turn away those he sends first, he could then send a real army and burn this place to the ground for miles around!"

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

"Tall, grey skinned. You will recognise him if there aren't any more of his kind here."

The Nightbrother inclined his head toward the man. "Fetah," he uttered quietly in Paecian, expressing his gratitude for the explanation. He still didn't have an understanding of just what a Pau'an was -- aside from an alien of some kind -- but it seemed he would know one when he saw one.

"Yes, seeing this base of theirs will give us a sense of what they are capable of," the elder remarked.

It seemed that these warriors were committed to a hunt. Particularly the one who was green of skin. He seemed to already have an idea as to their approach. Then, the man leaned closer to the Dathomirian teen to ask, "You following?"

A black line curved upward on his brow, much like an eyebrow on a human.

Following? But they had not yet departed? Was he asking if the youth was going to follow them as they ventured for this destroyer of stars that was beached on the land?

Or was it some idiom of their language?

The human tongue was nothing if not vague.

"We will see this destroyer of stars. Assess the movement of our prey," the boy recounted, in his own words. "You propose flight, but do not believe we could be victorious in a battle there. This strategy could expose our presence before we have adequately prepared." The last part hadn't been in the man's plan, at least as much of the plan as he'd followed. But if Jorah knew anything, it was hunting.

It did not do to expose one's presence prematurely.

"Even if you four turn away those he sends first, he could then send a real army and burn this place to the ground for miles around!"

Glancing over at the disheveled, angry man, the Nightbrother gave a slight incline of his head as he acknowledged the anger, frustration, and fear that was being conveyed. "You presume such an action will not occur without our interference," the Dathomirian remarked in a matter-of-fact tone, before answering, "I make no such presumption."

Such petty kings ruled through fear, mistaking that alone for power.

And fear required constant tending, like a fire, least its embers start to grow cold. The village was likely a means to an end. An example for others to illustrate both power and fear.

Turning his attention back to the other men, the youth would defer the decision of how they traveled to them.

Jorah had a separate means of air travel, of course, but it seemed ill-suited to the present task. Even if he flew over this destroyer of stars, it was unlikely Jorah would know what he was looking for. Or at, even.

Aside from which, these men were unknown to him. It remained to be seen how they would react to Dathomirian magick when it came time to cast a spell.

Raigryn Vayd Jared Starchaser Tiland Kortun​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Raigryn Vayd Jared Starchaser Jorah zos Darnus

"An army, we can manage," Tiland said with a wry smile. "It wouldn't be the first time. Nor, I fear, the last, despite my best efforts."

He rolled his shoulders and his neck to loosen them, and rose to his feet. It would not be easy, but they would have to scout it out first. He picked up the walking staff and gazed off to the horizon in the distance.

"Ships would be nice, but too obvious, at least for this, I think. A few footworn travels would be less intimidating and less likely to be discovered."

Tiland met the gazes of the other people around the fire, smiling softly at them. "They will have to go through more than they bargained for before reaching you."

 

[Jared Starchaser]

Watching the impromptu, or maybe it was ad hoc, team, Jared nodded. Seemed they had a kid around. He could deal with that, the Mirialan did basically raise his sister, well, among the rest of the Dawn Treader then, Dawn Chaser now crew. As for the Pau'an, he nodded for what Gelt had to say. Tall folks, great.

"I don't think we could call in a fleet. Bringing that sort of fire power is… difficult." It was more a pipe dream than anything. He could call the Chaser and maybe a favor in from his father, but would that accomplish what they needed to? No, he really assumed not. Training these folks to fight their own battles may be worth while.

But a few lightsabers and some Force skills? That would send a clear and present message. "We don't need speeders. I do have a swoop bike in my ship." He shrugged, Tiland was bringing up a good point, of being foot worn and wanderers. Could be a bit easier to manage. Though they'd probably want to leave some of their gear behind.

"I'm not worried about a wave of them, but when we leave… if we don't finish it properly…"

Raigryn Vayd Jorah zos Darnus Tiland Kortun