Private Whispers in the gloom

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Taanab, Inner Rim

Soft churned earth broke beneath Itzhal's boots, stained brown around the trim. In the distance, ravens cawed and shrieked above scampering prey, hidden from sight by towering trees, with many branches stretched out like a curtain of evergreen.

Behind him, the sleek form of an IR-3F-Class Light Frigate stretched out, a lioness perched upon the hard-packed stone of the clearing. Regality in waiting, serene in a way that Itzhal knew he'd never quite managed. His buy'ce turned slowly, scanning across the shrouded horizon, then lifted towards the clear sky above.

Dimmed by the protective glare of his visor, the sun above gleamed with radiant warmth that carried on the soft breeze of the twirling wind. Nature pressed close, tantalising after hours stuck in the confines of his ship. Itzhal's chest rose with a deep breath, fresh air filtered into his helmet, with the scent of pine and mulched dirt.

Minutes passed without a deeper thought; his eyes closed, and yet more aware than he'd felt in days.

Beep.

Beep.

His eyes opened, disturbed by the sound coming from his wrist. The chrono attached to his gauntlet, a small screen framed in vivid crimson, vibrated with each soft beep. It was almost time. He clicked the screen with his forefinger, silencing the device as it stilled once more, the numbers continuing to tick with every second that passed.

Blue light trickled into the confines of his HuD, framing the details of his purpose here and the last message he'd sent.

| Subject | Disturbances on Taanab, assistance requested.

Runi Kuryida, Warmaster of the Iron Wolves

I am Itzhal Volkihar, Journeyman Protector of the Mandalorian Protectorate, currently investigating a matter involving the disappearance of a fellow member of the Protectorate and multiple civilians. After interviews with individuals who have claimed to have escaped from unusual circumstances on the planet of Taanab, it is my belief that the situation involves indicators consistent with Force-related interference that I admit is outside my expertise. Official avenues for assistance are now being explored.

I'm looking to be put in contact with a specialist who understands the need for discretion. At the moment, I am working under the assumption that the missing civilians and my fellow protectorate member are still alive, and with adequate care and preparation can still be recovered, but under the circumstances, hostile action is assumed.

— Itzhal Volkihar
Mandalorian Protectorate

Another deliberate flick of his eyes from left to right, switched to the reply, a sequence of coordinates and a time that was rapidly approaching for all that he'd arrived in advance. Better to be prepared.

He tilted his head back towards the forest, where the disappearances had first occurred, worryingly close to the coordinates that should have been chosen by random. He'd never sent that part over the holonet.

Tags: Runi Kuryida​

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi had a tendency to wander throughout the Empire. However, as Warmaster, responsibility required her return to Mandalore or Yavin IV where many Mandalorian trained, recovered, and made plans for the future. The hazel-eyed Shaman enjoyed meeting with inidividuals rather than bombastic podiums and speeches. Mandalorians often got enough of that from their Mand'alor or Alor, so she kept her attention focused on training and therapy to help a weathered soul find their strength once more. Such focus allowed her considerable leeway in where to devote her time or attention.

When a message came in from Taanab, Runi accepted the correspondence without complaint.

Disappearances already raised concern, Admittedly, just that alone could -- and arguably should -- be handed off to another division, but the Shaman wasn't one to overlook the needs of others. So long as her efforts weren't literally divided between time sensitive matters, she was prepared to do whatever was needed. Itzhal continued, however, in mentioning a possible Force-related interference. It was a quick addition that cemented it fell in the realm of the Wolves regardless.

Itzhal's consideration was appreciated, but ultimately unnecessary. Soon as she finished reading the missive, the Warmaster had set in motion lieutenants to take over in one of her absences. They could try to deter her and suggest another could go instead, and Runi would politely listen but ultimately decline the offer. Missing Mandalorians whose lives might hang in the balance... what more could entire a Warmaster to take action herself? Who more specialized for the circumstances?

She did accept the idea that a follow-up squad would follow Runi soon after her departure, in case things went awry. It'd enable the Warmaster's swift arrival without help being days or hours out of reach should it become more than foreseen. A nearby outpost could even house them if they happened to arrive before the investigation was over.

With that, Runi set out at all possible speed toward Tanaab.

When the time arrived, the soft rustle of footsteps amidst the foliage heralded the arrival of another where Itzhal waited. The avian-inspired helm was slung over Runi's cloak of many feathers as she stepped out of the shadows from the canopy around them. "Hail Son of Volkihar. The Manda be with us this day. I am Runi Kuryida of the Iron Wolves."

She left the introduction at that to give Itzhal an opportunity to process and decide if he required further validation of her identity or intent. If he had any pressing updates, it would be helpful to know sooner than later without throwing commands about as though she knew more than those whose boots had been on the ground longest.

Itzhal Volkihar​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Taanab, Inner Rim

Runi Kuryida stalked through a veil of shadows, cloying darkness clung to her frame, sheltered in the hollows of her armour and the trail of her feathered cloak. Searing light from the sun above banished the darkest fragments, leaving only the bleached-out stretch of her shadow. Her first step into the clearing was hushed, muffled by the thin carpet of foliage that marked her way.

Itzhal pivoted to face her, the press of his boot grinding into the stone beneath. Transparisteel shaped in the form of the iconic T-Visor gleamed under the rays of sunlight, a mirror sheen that reflected the woman he faced; shapely plates of silver caressed her chest and hips, the latter in the shape of a belt, emblazoned with a bronze buckle from which dangled loose shreds of cloth, unmarked despite the press of the forest and the route of her approach. His eyes lingered on the sharpened point of her buy'ce's beak.

"Pirusti urcir, Ni cuy Itzhal be allit Volkihar, oritsir Mando Cabur," Itzhal nodded, with a slight tilt of his head that allowed him to examine the debris scattered across her boots, as if they might answer the puzzle of how she'd arrived without any ship in sight.

Jetti ossik, most likely.

At the very least, it meant she had a few handy tools, even if this case didn't end up the looming disaster that he expected.

With a sweeping stretch of his arm, he indicated the far side of the forest, where grandiose trees rose like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches interlinked like woven webs that swallowed the sunlight from above. Beneath the verdant canopy, creatures skittered amongst the forgotten traces of a mystery contrived centuries ago, only now drawn into the revealing light of dawn with the attention those lost souls rightly deserved.

"Travellers passing by this area suggested they heard voices amongst the trees, all of them were accompanied by friends or family that seemed to snap them out of what was described as a trance state. At the moment, our working assumption is that those who travelled alone didn't break that trance, though what occurred afterwards is unknown,"[ He started, voice steady and buoyed by the easy rhythm of a debrief.

"An overview from above located a clearing with multiple rudimentary structures, suggesting a village to the north-east, about thirteen kilometres. Otherwise, our only lead is deeper in that forest."

Tags: Runi Kuryida​

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi's eyes followed Itzhal's gesture to the forest nearby. Serenity and ease turned to careful study. Hazel eyes sharpened as they focused on a particular area of the tree line rather than attempt to take in its entirety. There was something in there. Something dark. Hungry.

When he began to explain the circumstances of what drew him to the area, the Shaman turned her attention back to him. Whatever lay in the forest could wait a moment longer. It had not come there recently; the world spoke of its age. A few slight nods accompanied Itzhal's recount of local encounters.

"And you do not believe the locals were hiding something more sinister at this village." More a statement than question as she regarded his composure. There was nothing in his recount of what he'd heard or seen of the people to suggest he doubted them; nor any particular urgency to noting there might be a village nearby. "How long has it been since our vod entered the forest? Did they leave any trail behind we could pick up?"

She drew in a deep breath before she crouched down to touch the firm soil beneath their boots. Small blades of grass slid across the webs of her fingers as she passed her hand over the surface.

"Have you dealt with 'Force-related' matters before, Protector Itzhal?" A foreboding sense began to swell as she crouched there. Something was watching them. Perhaps not consciously aware of them. Not yet.

Itzhal Volkihar​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Taanab, Inner Rim

From the corner of his display, Itzhal watched as the Warmaster's eyes sharpened, fixated on a point hidden from sight—recognition glinted in the white of her eyes, a challenge, a threat— deeper within the forest. Her keen gaze turned towards his armoured form, awaiting the information he had to share, as if each word were a carefully forged blade, prepared for the hunt that awaited them.

"I do not know," Itzhal interrupted, shaprened with an urgency that rippled down his spine. "A few of those I interviewed mentioned a village, but just as many of them didn't. It wasn't conclusive. And I did not wish to risk investigating them alone, not when we are already missing one Protector to this case."

Assumptions were dangerous; they painted a guided path of expectations and certainties upon a canvas of unknowns.

Blue light scrolled down the left side of his HuD, a trickle of information and details from the case: interview excerpts, known last locations of missing civilians, and a datalog from Protector Stral.

"Sixteen days," Itzhal answered, with a tap of his gauntlet that compressed the files and launched them in the direction of Runi's awaiting systems for later viewing while they travelled. "His first case file on the planet mentioned arriving further away and using a speeder bike to approach the suspected sight of the disturbance. That was roughly a month ago. After that, he set up several mobile camp sites, some of which I have located, though they had been abandoned for a number of weeks. His last three files mentioned whispers, similar to the other victims."

He stepped around the edge of the perimeter, boots pressing down into the surface, until he came to a stop beside the crouched force-user.

Itzhal traced the clouds above in their thoughtless twirl across the sky, undaunted by mortal concerns, nor the weight of the question she asked. He thought the Jedi claimed everything was attached to the Force, but then, they both knew that wasn't the question. Defiled corpses raised from their not-so final resting place, full-grown men swatted aside like flies by an incorporeal hand, and the weight of knives pressing down upon his mind,

"I have, but usually, incidents are more conspicuous than this," His answer was weighted—words chosen with care, and delivered with an even tone that should have said nothing. "You've noticed something."

Tags: Runi Kuryida​

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi gave a single nod of understanding. Time might not be on their side, but recklessly rushing in blind could deprive kin of any chance of being rescued at all. It was a difficult call to make every time -- whether to go, or to refrain. Then there was a subtle shift in the brow or the scant widening of the eyes that followed Itzhal saying it had been sixteen days. Perilous. Certainly wise to wait for support.

"Usually." Hazel eyes turned up toward the trees. With a sigh, the Shaman rose to her feet. "Those that are not, with the portents you describe, speak of great darkness born from foul rituals and purpose." She turned her head to look over at Itzhal. "Something is waiting for us in the woods. It has been growing for some time. I would bid wait for the reserve force to jump in, but there isn't time. They will have to catch up to us."

"Protector Itzhal, we must advance. If we do not, the village nearby will be but the first to burn in flames physical and spiritual." If they had not already. Runi looked to her partner in this to see if he had counsel otherwise, or lacked inclination to brave such 'mystic' perils. They were not for everyone to contend with, and could leave one with lifelong scars. The Shaman would also check to see if Itzhal insisted on taking the fore. If he did not, then she would set off toward the trees immediately. Not at a run, but with a stride born of purpose.

Itzhal Volkihar​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Taanab, Inner Rim

"Into the breach, then," Itzhal said, his voice steady, resolve unshakable. Darkness lurked in the shadows of the forest, a beast given time and ample prey to grow; the old Mandalorian knew not what form the beast had assumed, nor what terrible powers the Force had provided it, yet still the end was the same. It was a monster—and Mandalorians like them slew monsters.

Calloused fingers trailed along the grips of his blaster pistols as Itzhal followed in behind the Shaman, gesturing for her to lead with a tilt of his head and flourish of his hand.

Minutes, then hours, passed, travelling through a grandiose array of speckled leaves that twisted the light above into a shower of gold and amber, where gentle creatures scurried across the floor, and towering trees that carried the burden of centuries stood tall, undaunted, not quite welcoming, but merely dismissive, in the way that nature untouched by civilisation could be.

Time, however, was not always so kind. Nor were all journeys so soft—the passage withered under their solid strides.

Dark and twisted branches crossed overhead, sentinels of the forest, their gnarled limbs clawing at the dim light like skeletal hands reaching for salvation. Speckled moss dripped across the wood, lumps swallowing any light that dared to pierce the dense canopy. Unearthed roots speared up towards the sky in a helpless quest, cragged splinters bent inwards with grasping coils that retreated to the mud, which squelched underfoot, clinging to those who passed. The air was thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional shriek of unseen creatures lurking just beyond the reach of what little light pierced the canopy above.

Adjusting his comm-link, Itzhal spoke softly into his vocalizer, "Movement. Bolthole to the right, small; four-legged, some form of spiked tail."

Tags: Runi Kuryida​

 

[Runi Kuryida]

The Shaman reached over her shoulders to draw the wooden blades from her back as they neared the woods.

Currents within the Manda swept between towering trunks and among verdant green. It carried with it the voice pregnant with inevitability. Purpose. Unlike the Jedi or the Sith who might speak of a Living Force, one possessing Will or Desire that aligned with their own, the Manda encouraged growth. Not all such was... civilized. How else could the young grow if they had nothing to hone their skills against? To know where they stood in relation to the vastness of possibility. Whispers spoke of danger, but only in that a soul should take care; the Manda would not intercede on their behalf in this matter. Runi, herself, felt the same, but she was corporeal with obligation to interact on that level.

Every now and then along their way, the Shaman would pause and kneel nearer the earth. Her fingers would brush along the ground. Her eyes trace its contours. "This way," she would say before their progress resumed.

In time, dark and deep now the woods loomed rather than sheltered those that moved below.

"So we have arrived," Runi replied quietly as she made minor corrections in the way she stood on the forest floor. A lone sword pointed ahead into the shadows. A slight nod to the right followed before the Shaman started to move ahead. Itzhal could wait and position himself as Runi drew attention to herself with motion.

If moving alone wasn't enough, she'd wait until near the end of the fallen hollow that gave the thing cover before she'd turn in its direction. Perhaps it would not take well to having one of the ends cut off and her eyes fall upon it. She sought to drive it into an awaiting Protector's grasp. Not to silence the sentinel -- the Shaman was fairly certain others were aware of their presence now -- but to limit distance and direction of hostile forces.

Itzhal Volkihar​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Taanab, Inner Rim

In the cloying quiet, Itzhal reached down to retrieve Oath and Honour, the sleek contours of the Mandalorian's blaster pistols slipping free from their holsters with a soft, almost imperceptible rustle of leather. Dull greyscale metal, tarnished with minuscule scratches along the length of its frame, avoided the light with seamless ease as Itzhal advanced, his steps a whisper amongst the undergrowth.

Small wavelines in a transparent haze rippled outwards from the edge of his HuD, expanding with each step he took toward the vague outline of a creature burrowing through boltholes and loose earth. He stepped to the left, while Runi advanced, drawing attention with confident strides caught between the gaps of enormous trunks. In the periphery of his vision, the wavelines swayed from near the top-right corner of his HUD down towards the central-right, before he turned to face the source of the disturbance, blasters raised and tracing the horizon.

Old roots upturned provided cover as he dropped into a crouch, waiting to see the creature's reaction to the Iron Wolves' approach. Twisted branches shaped like stalactites, and veiny leaves that pulsed with the slow-winding hiss of the wind framed his angle of the encounter, the faint outline of patchy, matted dark brown fur illuminated in a soft glow provided by his HuD. Four sharp claws scraped against the ground, tearing through the mud and dirt as it took a step forward, six beady black eyes honed in on the armed silhouette of the shaman's form, and numerous white teeth gleamed from within a salivating mouth.

Then it lunged, covering the distance with the explosive power of its hind legs as it swung out with its paw, headed straight for the burrow of her collarbone, trying to drive her back first into the ground, where razor-sharp teeth could start to tear into flesh.

His blasters raised, Itzhal attempted to line up the shot, but couldn't get a safe angle as he searched for an opportunity to strike.

The corner of his HuD flickered with an outline of ghostly waves, coming from behind and to the sides, the silhouettes starting small but rapidly growing in size as he released a short swear, contained to the enclosure of his buy'ce, he activated his vocalizer, "We've got company, multiple hostiles incoming at speed. Thirty seconds, tops."

Tags: Runi Kuryida​