Public Witch way to go: Vivien Magus (Ord Radama)

[Zuna Vobara]

Outside the storm raged. Inside the guest room above a cantina Zuna quieted her inner storm. The spicy smell of burning herbs tickled her nose as she freed her mind to let it travel faster and wider than the ship that had brought her here from Dathomir ever could.

She had never heard of Ord Radama before but when Gral´s ship had stopped here to replenish supplies and sell some goods the city of Livien Magnus called out to her. Warrior and winged beasts made of stone stared down on winding roads many too narrow for a speeder to pass through. The city had sung to Zuna the moment she had left the confines of the ships quarters for some fresh air.

By now she had learned that four-and-a-half millennia ago the Sith had conquered this place and the had left their mark. Even after all this time the Force was still lingering in the soil reaching upwards to seep into the stone of the pavements and the buildings.

The place was still a nexus of energy faint by now but the echo of old battles and the dark side still resonated with Zuna. Since she had no destination to arrive at, this place was as good as any to stay, better actually.

As Zuna slipped deeper into meditation pictures and visions appeared before her mind's eye, some blurry some crystal-clear…

Ancient battleships in the sky…

Ground troops fighting exchanging red and orange blaster fire…

A towering figure in black armot with a black metal mask covering half the chalk-white face…

Remnants of the past imprinted forever in the very ground this city was built on…

And then pictures from the present…



Gral the Devaronian trader who had brought her here, sitting over a drink, talking….

Zuna could hear the words….

"And I tell you she is a Nightsister for sure. The Jedi, the syndicated and the Sith will all pay through their noses to get their hands on her. We stun her, sedate her and auction her off to the highest bidder."

Shadowy heads around him nodded in agreement.

So this was how far Gral´s loyalty lasted. Never trust one with horns and a toothy grin.

Zuna´s eyes snapped open.

This was happening right now, somewhere in the city maybe even in the seedy bar below.

The young rose rose from her cross-legged position.

The Force had given her a head start but soon she would have to defend her life and her freedom

(tag)

 

[Kiera Sifdin-Skell]

Kiera Sifdin-Skell in...
Witch Way to Go, by Zuna Vobara

The rain was hardly a bother. In fact it was usually a good thing that served as a multifaceted distraction. In this particular case the sound of heavy drops and hard wind covered up a much more sinister sound: the sound of death.

The trandoshian was on their back with a set of knees upon his chest and gloved hands tightly around his neck. They weren't too tight, in fact they were relaxed just enough to allow the smallest bit of air through. Coupled with a compressed chest and the man was barely holding air.

Kiera, cloth mask covering half her face as usual, was finishing a job. She had arrived a few days ago seeking the very man she was now bearing down upon. He was a smuggler who had sold her a fake starpath unit. Impressive, as starpath units weren't easy to fake, especially when selling to an experienced spacer like herself. A pity, then, that she was the one he sold it to- perhaps then he'd breath a little easier.

Unfortunately for him, Kiera wasn't forgiving. She tracked him down and had recovered her lost credits and could kill him. But the fear in his eyes was too inspiring. A moment passed and her fingers tightened by only a smidge and within moments the struggling was over.

She stood and walked around the corner, leaving behind the small alleyway between a hotel of sorts and another shop. Without any emotion she walked in, confident her crime went unnoticed. And if it was? Ord Radama wasn't known for heroes. Kiera took a seat at one of the empty booths and gave a negative nod of the head to one of the bartending droids that happened by, since she wasn't a drinker.

Cantinas and shady bars were good for one thing though: information and by happenstance information was exactly what she had found.

Almost as soon as she had sat down she could overhear three men discussing a nightsister: one of the infamous witches of Dathomir. The Force was an abomination that was to be eradicated, but magick? The various forms of magick that existed were not the same thing. To Kiera, a jedi or sith, or whatever title they claimed to go by, would use and manipulate the Force. Magick however, in her eyes, was a perversion of the Force: twisting it into something raw and new.

This witch of Dathomir was the exact type she needed. As he thought on the prospect of recruiting such a useful ally, the three men in the booth beside her all stood and moved to a booth closer to one of the back doors that lead to the stairwell. Kiera knew what that meant, their target- her target- was close.

She didn't move an inch however. No, she sat and patiently kept her eyes keenly fixed on the men. She wanted to see what this witch was capable of.

 

[Warmaster Fhaige]

A ghost in the bar...

Location: "Whistlin' Purgil" Cantina, Ord Rodama, Mandalorian Space.
Objective: Follow and Observe
Tags: Zuna Vobara , Kiera Sifdin-Skell

A back alley behind a cantina, the sort of place where deals were made, and lives were lost. A single hooded figure walked in the low neon light, her cloak made of a shimmering leather-like material. It wasn't made from machining together rubber, but from skinning an amphibian beast. Such a tog was perfect for keeping the rain off.

A bouncer looked over the hooded figure, unable to make out exactly what he was looking at. The shistavanen arched a brow, pulling out a personal scanner to make sure the new guest didn't have any weapons on them. It beeped loudly for a few seconds, light cascading over the figure. It found no metals or materials found in weapons, though heavy deposits of glucose around her hip.

"You're gonna need to show me some ID before ya can get in," He said, crossing his arms over his chest. He chuckled, sure he could take whatever this tall character could throw at him.

"As you wish..." The figure said, removing her hood to reveal the unique features. The finned ears, pale skin, and rigid brows. All of it was incredibly off-putting, and it would only get one reaction.

"What the Hell?! You're a-" His muzzle was then forced shut by a pale hand, a shining black dagger being produced from her waistband.

"I am going to release you.... Scream, and I shall make sure you never speak again." The Yuuzhan Vong had not been seen outside of the outer rim in decades. It was thought that they had been wiped out. Yet here Fhaige was, walking down the streets of a city controlled by The Mandalorian Empire, a place thought safe from any sort of aggressors. It sent a message, Yuuzhan Vong were back...

Once the bouncer was silenced, and her entrance was assured, Fhaige silently stepped into the cantina. She practically glided her way to the bar, ignoring everything that was not her objective. She was a specter moving amongst the living, rightfully being avoided at all costs. Her only thought being to find Kiera.

"Forgive my lack of punctuality, it was more difficult than anticipated to accomplish my goal." It was better not to speak openly about the deed, as this was a fact finding mission. The Battlemaster had been tasked with locating data, a task she believed was beneath her. She was a warrior, not a Y'uno damned spy.

Without any ceremony, she slid a bioluminescent disc onto the counter of the bar. It was essentially a type of slime mold that worked as a living conduit for electricity. Yuuzhan Vong cultivated and harvested these unique colonies of amoeba-like specimens as a sort of natural data storage. The mold forged itself into lines of glowing "code" which could be interpreted by other biotes as if it were text, audio, or video.

<Inside is a collection of smuggling routes through Mandalorian space. It should be useful to us.> Speaking in the language of her people in a crowded bar would help keep the nature of her mission a secret. Avoiding any listeners from learning too much about this. Now all that was left was to get off this rock. Sadly though, Kiera had a look that meant more was needed to be done.

Joy...

 

[Zuna Vobara]

Location: Zuna's Room in the"Whistlin' Purgil" Cantina**
Objective: be invisible


The dim light of the room flickered as Zuna sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by swirling tendrils of smoke from the incense burning nearby. The spicy, herbal aroma wrapped around her like a cloak, lending an air of mystique to the already charged atmosphere. With focused intent, she closed her eyes and began to chant softly, her voice weaving through the air like a silken thread.

"Veil of shadows, shield my form,

Grant me the power to escape the storm.

Eyes unseeing, hearts unaware,

Let me slip through the world,

a whisper in the air."

As her words flowed, the air thickened, shimmering with energy. She could feel the spell taking hold, wrapping her in a protective shroud. The mundane world outside faded, and the essence of the Force surged through her, amplifying her connection to the unseen.

Meanwhile, down below, Gral the Devaronian and his two human accomplices – lowlives and scum he had dealings with in the past - rose from their chairs in the cantina. Their hushed voices were tense with anticipation.

"Last time I´ve seen her, she went to her room upstairs." Gral hushed his eyes narrowing. "If she left then not through the cantina. So let´s move it. We need to bag her before she slips away."With a quick nod from one of the humans, they ascended the staircase to Zuna's room, their footsteps heavy with determination.

Gral fished an electronic lock pick out of his pocket. The keycard-like device hummed discreetly barely audible, a thiefs tool that Gral handled with practiced ease until the lock gave way with a soft click.

Gral´s red face grimaced as the door creaked treacherously in its rusty hinges that had not seen a drop of oil in his lifetime, revealing the smoky interior of the room.The smell of the spicy incense was actually pleasant compared to the stale smell of drinks an body odors from various species that filled the cantina and rose up into the upper floor as well.

With the lock pick still in his left Gral drew a holdout blaster out of his cloak. A short sideways glance told him that his accomplices had also drawn their blaster while scanning the dimly lit corridor for any nosy trespassers. As they stepped inside, their eyes darted around, scanning for any sign of the elusive Nightsister.

But Zuna remained undetected, her presence masked by the spell. She could sense the three intruders, their confusion palpable as they peered into the room, searching for traces of her. The incense continued to smolder, curling upward in lazy spirals, but it offered no clues to her hidden form.

"What the blast?" one of the humans exclaimed, glancing at Gral.

"Where is she? You said she didn´t leave the cantina."

She was right here!" Gral's frustration simmered. "Keep looking! She has to be here somewhere!"

"I have a bad feeling about this." The other hoodlum mumbled "Why would she hide if she did not know we are coming?"

"Bantha droppings…" Gral grumbled, "Go looking here. I check the rest of the floor…"

Zuna's heart raced, but she remained calm, focused on the rhythm of her breath. The spell was working—she was a ghost among the living. As the men searched, she felt the lingering energy of the magic, guiding her, urging her to stay hidden just a little longer. In that moment of silence, Zuna allowed her lips to curl into a tiny smile as she understood: she was not just fighting for her life; she was reclaiming a power that had always been hers.

tag

 

[Kiera Sifdin-Skell]

Kiera watched with a sinister grin, only known to her of course thanks to her mask, which was still pulled up over the lower half of her face. The three individuals were moving fast and were likely aware of the danger in the target they sought. A Dathomiri witch was certainly a fierce foe... or powerful ally.

Kiera's gaze shifted slightly, now turning to her companion Warmaster Fhaige . Though the warmaster had presented useful information in the form of smuggling routes through Mandalorian space, Kiera knew their true prize was somewhere above them. Giving a faint nod towards the door in the corner, she stood and proceeded foward with fierce determination.

Turning into the stairwell provided a quick clue as a few stories above in one of the many hallways, there was a sound. No. Sounds. They were on the hunt.

Kiera calmly drew her twinned pistols, bringing them up to her chest in a ready position. Like a ghost she moved up the stairs with little to no noise and unconcerned she'd be spotted or heard. As she reached the third floor hallway she could see where they had entered: a room near the end of the hall where a strange fog of some kind was seeming beneath the door. Magick.

She kneeled slightly into a crouch position before continuing down the hall until she reached the door. Despite being Force-dead, Kiera was aware of the magick at play and knew her target was using the smoke filled air for something. To hide? To set a trap? Both? Regardless of the why, the smoke filled room would provide Kiera exactly the cover she needed.

She tapped her hand against the door's control and it slid open with metal screaming. The thick swirling smoke began to pour out into the hall, the three men unsure of what or who opened it.

The leader, or who seemed to be the leader, nodded towards the door and quickly one of the remaining two made their way forward.

Turning the corner into the now smoke filled hallway, he was caught completely off guard by the hard slam of a pistol against his head. Before he could let out a pained yell Kiera was behind him, one hand firmly over his mouth and the other sticking her knife deep into his back. There was a moment and then nothing. Kiera slowly brought his body to the floor.

Two left, and they'd only have a brief window without the others knowing something was wrong.

She leaned agaisnt the wall and waited- after all these men weren't her target.

Tags: Zuna Vobara

 

[Zuna Vobara]

The two armed goons blundered around the guest room within arms reach of Zuna and couldn´t see her. The incense smoke and a witches magick had made them deaf and dumb. Even with her life at stake it was somewhat amusing to Zuna.

No, not exactly amusing. More like thrilling. She had tapped right into power. For the first time she understood the meaning of that word.

Zuna´S lips moved silently as her mind reached out for the spiraling tendrils of smoke and bend them to a new additional purpose.

Spider Queen of spaces

Weave your cobwebs in their minds

Cloud their thoughts

Bend their will to mine



Barely audible whsipers escaped from Zuna´s lips.

There´s no one here. Gral is nuts. Let´s go down and have a drink.

One of the goons holstered his blaster grunting in frustration

There´s no one here. Gral is nuts. Let´s go down and have a drink.

His accomplice nodded, putting his own blaster away

Zuna whispered:

The horned idiot had some drinks too much. I´ll blast his horns off his head if he plays another prank like this

The second goon sneered

The horned idiot had some drinks too much. I´ll blast his horns off his head if he plays another prank like this

He gave his partner a slap on the back and they moved out of the room again unaware of the firm grip Zuna maintained on their thoughts.

Her lips formed new words, new thoughts to implant in their unaware minds

I drink myself into a stupor on Gral´s tap

Me too

On his way out one goon said:

I drink myself into a stupor on Gral´s tap

His partner nodded

Me too

Tags:

https://www.starwarsrp.net/members/kiera-sifdin-skell.55114/

https://www.starwarsrp.net/members/warmaster-fhaige.55161/

 

[Warmaster Fhaige]

A ghost in the bar...

Location: "Whistlin' Purgil" Cantina, Ord Rodama, Mandalorian Space.
Objective: Follow and Observe
Tags: Zuna Vobara Kiera Sifdin-Skell

It was barely worth the effort following Kiera into the smokey upper area of the bar, her nasal cavity filling with the scent of incense. It was an overwhelming scent, one of rose petals and sandalwood. It reminded her of the censor smoke that was created at ceremonies of the Priest Caste. Her eyes slowly examined the hallway, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Smoke was billowing out of an open guest room.

"It is not difficult to surmise that your target is close..."

Just as the smoke rolled out of the open door, the two thugs stepped out as well. Two hapless nobodies who were unlikely to be missed by the galaxy. Phaige consider breaking their backs just for the amusement of hearing them scream. Fortunately for them she abstained from making a mess of them.

The Warmaster crossed her arms, idly looking over the room to see if anything was apparent beside more smoke. Her presence would have been immediately noticeable to the witch. She could see the cloaked figure, but not sense her, as if there was a hole where a person would be. That was the trick with handling the Force Dead aliens. You couldn't try and look at them with the force, you had to look around them.

"I do not see anything, perhaps those thugs had the right of it," Phaige said before another, less potent smell tingled her absent nose. "Wait, someone is here for sure... I can smell them..."

She still wasn't entirely sure what Kiera was looking for, only that it had caused her to kill a man. Without any other warning, the muscles in her hands tensed. This small action ejected six Yuuzhan Vong fighting claws, a painful act for The Vong in question. Light amounts of blood still trickled from the tips of the claws, a grimace of pain on Phaige's face.

 

[Zuna Vobara]

With the two underlings out of the way Zuna reached out with her witch sight to find Gral and temper with hgis mind. That was the least thing he deserved and being the one who had planned to sell her into slavery he would not get off the hook as easily as his allies. Not by any stretch of the imagination

But as Zuna expanded her senses beyond their natural reach into the liminal spaces where magick flowed she found … nothing

Literally nothing

Outside in the corridfor a black hole had been punched into the very fabric of reality, the sheer absence of anything, vaguely humanoid in shape but so grotesquely tall it could ot be Gral the Devaronian.

In fact he lay on the floor beside that absence, a motionless body, just watr and proteins now devoid of life, Gral was dead. But even a corpse still existed in the realms of mystical energy even if the spirit had already passed on.

That absence was different. It lived, it moved but it wasn´t there.

A paradox that Zuna´s witch sight could not solve. This would need a more direct approach.

Zuna opened her physical eyes and rose to her feet while she loosened her fighting sticks from her belt. She had intended to give Gral the beating of his lifetime after freezing his mind. Now the polished sticks made from te wood of the grave thorn would protect her from this moving living nothing.

The witches had taught Zuna silence of the mind and of the body. She made now sound as she approached the door, visible now through the curling spicy swirls of incense smoke. She peered around the door frame … and froze.

To her physical eyes that Nothing in the fabric of life became something – a towering figure part hmanoids, part reptilian and one-hundred percent something she knew only from the history records aboard the crashlanded ship of her parents. She had seen the records there while the witches had seen to her formal mundane education.

That Nothing that was Something looked right at her, clawed hand ready to strike.

There was no hinding under the veil of magick anymore, just a bold move forward.

"You area Yuuzhan-Vong." Zuna said.

Warmaster Fhaige Kiera Sifdin-Skell

 

[Dravik Thorne]

The storm over Livien Magnus growled like something half alive. Sheets of rain hammered the walkways and pooled in oily gutters that reflected the grime of the Whistlin Purgil.

Dravik Thorne stepped through it without a hood, water hammering noisily against his coat. He did not bother to blink it away.

His eye itched. He felt them looking through it.

"Yes I know..." he muttered under his breath. "...we're close."

He had gone months without being bothered by his masters. This task they chose to direct personally. He hated the cold grip of their control.

"Magick," he whispered to himself. His eye could see the trace of it. He had to be close now.

After what he had done to one of the workers at the space port, he had to move quickly.

The air around him prickled. A thread of Dathomiri magick brushed the edge of his mind. His masters were displeased. They wanted Zuna back. They pushed at him like puppeteers tugging old strings.

“I am going,” he muttered. “You do not need to pull.”

The cantina pulsed with noise and light ahead. Dravik slung his witch forged rifle across his shoulder and walked towards it. His boots splashed through rainwater.

If the night sisters cared so much, perhaps this would be a real challenge.

Zuna Vobara Kiera Sifdin-Skell Warmaster Fhaige

 

[Warmaster Fhaige]

A ghost in the bar...

Location: "Whistlin' Purgil" Cantina, Ord Rodama, Mandalorian Space.
Objective: Follow and Observe
Tags: Zuna Vobara Kiera Sifdin-Skell Dravik Thorne

There was a very brief moment where Fhaige was stunned by the nightsister. She had expected fear in the woman, yet it seemed she was willing to step forward. There was a certain modicum of respect from The Warmaster that was afforded to such beings, those who faced the unknown head-on. A slight chuckle came from her scaly lips. Was this the target Kiera had come all this way for?

"Correct, to speak our name is to acknowledge our history, a history of blood and conquest! You know more than most, I shall grant you that."

Impressing The Warmaster was a step in the right direction, she was usually willing to kill heretics rather than converse with them. Even so, Kiera saw value in this person, and as a loyal soldier, that meant she had to stay her blades. Annoying, but such was the state of things...

She retracted her claws, feeling as though the threat had passed. Sad, there was yet more blood that could be spilled. Leaving a bar full of heretics alive was a disappointing turn of events, but still, Fhaige turned her back to the witch before turning to the door.

"Come, we may discuss the repayment for this rescue in a better environment. Preferably one that doesn't stink of incense and stale libations."

Exiting with her cloak off was a risk, but it mattered little if anyone saw her. Most didn't know a Yuuzhan Vong when they saw them. Those that did were usually too afraid to report it to anyone of import. Either way, speed was more valuable than stealth at this stage. Local security would join them soon enough, and Fhaige had not the patience to deal with their incessant questions.

Little did The Vong Warmaster know she was walking right into another fight...

 

[Dravik Thorne]

Warmaster Fhaige Zuna Vobara

Fhaige stepped out into the storm. Beside her was his quarry. This made life simple.

Dravik Thorne was on the other side of the alley, standing still in the glow of a flickering lamp. The storm pooled around him in a halo of dirty light. He rested one hand on the stock of his witch wrought rifle, not as a threat but as a habit. His other hand pulsed faintly with corruption, the mark of his masters’ leash.

He regarded the Warmaster with a flat, unimpressed stare. His eye twitched. The voice behind that eye whispered into his brain.

Yuuzhan vong

He did not recognise the words, but the voice imparted images of war and destruction.

Magick cannot touch her mind.

Dravik didn't know how their powers worked, but he could tell that his eye didn't regard the Yuuzhan Vong in the same way as the witch.

“Saved me going inside.”

His voice held no challenge. Still, the commentary felt sharpened to a blade.

“The witch.”

He stepped forward. The rain hissed on the eldritch hand.

“I am here to collect her.”

There was no bravado. No raised voice. Just a simple, brutal truth delivered the way he delivered everything. Efficient. Cold. Certain.

The Nightsisters tugged faintly at the back of his mind again. A reminder. A push. A demand. He ignored them and watched the alien woman in front of him instead.

The storm cracked overhead. The cantina lights flickered behind her.

Dravik Thorne waited for her answer.

 

[Zuna Vobara]

„The witch. I am here to collect her."

The words struck hard but this wasn´t the worst part.

Even growing up in the wilderness of Dathomir Zuna had heard about the concept of bounty hunting, Catching fugitives for a price. Word around the heart fires was that even some witches – night sisters mostly – engaged in that trade when they choose to leave their home planet behind.

But again, this was not the worst paert. After all gral and his dimwit partners had basically trried the same thing – to capture Zuna for credits. And now Gral was dead and his associates had been easy enough to distract. Magic had a great influence on the weak-minded.

But this man was very different. Zuna could feel the dark magic surrounding him. No, wrong. Not just surrounding him. It had been carved into his flesh and bones. It was part of him. On Dathomir very few males had the potential to begin with. Out of them maybe one in a hundred distinguished himself enough to ever be taught. The eon old rule that a male had to save the life of a witch to be considered for teaching was still upheld. Evn the Nightsisters forever eager to see their ranks grow, adhered to it. Prhaps it was more out of suspicion than belief but they did anyway.

But crafting men into toys or weapons was another thing. Zuna had heard of such things and then some. Many nights the darkness had whispered to her, offering thoughts of power and control over others, the kind of power the predator held over the prey.

During these nights when she had listened t forbidden lore and secretly practiced what she was not supposed to know she had felt and tasted the essence of what it meant to be a Nightsister.

The same essence emanated from the man with the rifle very similar but still different.

Zuna inhaled deeply and tasted her own breath. Sorcefy hung in the air, the dark sorcery of Dathomir. The difference was this man was owned by the power he wielded. He was the weapon and not the attacker.

"I might come with you peacefully." Zun proposed "If you tell me what you want from me."

Of course the answer itself mattered but more importantly she wanted to know if he could answer in the first place. At the same time her soul reached out if it could find the souls of Gral´s partners. Once touched by the witch fire they could be touched again with more ease.

Dravik Thorne Warmaster Fhaige Kiera Sifdin-Skell