Crash Landing on Dathomir

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  1. When a human Jedi apprentice running away from his life crash lands on the mysterious world of Dathomir, life becomes a lot more interesting. This is a world of matriarchal clans and "Force Witches" who wield the Force in an uncanny, incredible way. They also tame rancors and use totems to amplify the Force, except they consider what they are doing to be "magic." How is this human going to get out of this one?
    #1 Cyrionessa, Feb 17, 2016
    Last edited by a moderator: Feb 28, 2016
  2. Name: Ewan Pontec
    Species: Human
    Gender: Male
    Age: 19

    Force-Sensitivity: Minor

    Height: 6'0"
    Hair: Black, Short, remains of a braid that was clumsily sheared off
    Skin: Caucasian skin, lightly tanned
    Clothes: At story onset, a pair 'Appropriated' coveralls from the repair yard, and under that standard jedi garb of tan tunic and pants

    Brought to the academy as a child, Ewan lived life as an average jedi youngling. He took his lessons, and learned of the universe, and all the many splendors that could be found. He learned of lightsabers, and combat, and learned of the mystical force, and how to use it to achieve great feats. He was taught history, and learned how currents events both resemble those in the past, and how they could affect the future. And eventually, he was granted the honor of being chosen as a padawan by the Jedi Knight Grintak Hosul. A human, he was often sent as a diplomat, serving to help conflicted groups, organizations, even worlds find a peaceful resolution. And so Ewan continued to learn.

    Ewan was by no means a yoda, or an Anakin, in that his powers within the force were average, at best, among his peers. And while he had enough Oomph to manage mind tricks and force pushes, he was never going to be known for his connection to the force. Instead, he found great comfort in his skills with technology. From his Light saber, to droids, to even starfighter construction, he was enthralled by the way all the components worked together to produce an effect. So much so that, when he'd have any spare time, he'd spend them in the maintenance and repair bays, watching as workers would strip and repair everything from turbolift mechanisms, to the various starfighters used by the Jedi. When he was seventeen, his master Grintak was requested to resolve a major dispute over salvage claims by some rather large shipping corporations in the Mid-rim, and would be leaving to help settle the dispute.

    On the way to the designated forum where the dispute would be discussed and hopefully put to rest, Grintak confided in Ewan that a fair portion of the dispute concerned the nature of the salvage in particular. One group claimed that another had, in fact, blown apart the ship or ships that produced the salvage. Another claim was about it being potentially important to the cultural history of a species in a nearby system. Both were challenging the holders of the original salvage claim, and the dispute had raised tempers all around since it was clear that at least some salvage had been removed, though by whom no one could say for sure. After their arrival, things did not get any better. Days of arguing back and forth over sector jurisdiction, galactic laws and regulations, and even other disputes over how a company may have snubbed the other, before the two jedi even got to see the disputed salvage.

    Up in one of the system's asteroid belts, the remains of a light cargo freighter and several small starfighters lay smashed together upon a slowly rotating asteroid. However, Ewan noticed something odd about the arrangement of debris; only the freighter seemed to have sustained damage from an impact, and it seemed reasonably intact. The rest of the ships were scorched and falling apart, as if someone had pulled them straight from a junkyard. The only reason he could think of as to why someone would do that, would be to try and distract someone from whats truly valuable in the salvage. Sharing this thought with his master after another long day of disagreements, Grishnak agreed, and postulated that these groups were far to interested in such a relatively small salvage for their supposed identities. He had already made their excuses, and they would be leaving in the morning.

    Morning came far earlier than expected when Ewan was roused from sleep by Grishnak, "Hurry, we must leave now, I've found out what they were looking for in the salvage, and they know i know. We haven't much time. With nothing to pack, having taken nothing but clothes off their transport, they quickly made their way to the space port, only to find a number of ruthless looking individuals waiting for them. Fighting quickly broke out, and the pair were forced to fight their way to the boarding ramp. As it seemed as though they had managed to safely make it on board, a thermal detonator thrown at the last minute exploded mid-air, catching Grishnak as the jedi ran up the ramp. Grievously wounded, Grishnak struggled to cling to life as Ewan piloted the ship, taking off from the planet, and setting a route to coruscant. Fortunately, all the disputing organizations had their ships watching the others, so none were able to intercept or pursue the fleeing vessel. Days later, Grishnak would die on that ship, as the onboard medical supplies were insufficient to heal the inflicted wounds. In the time leading up to that, Grishnak imparted several words of wisdom to his padawan, and the actuality of the situation they had narrowly escaped. The three organizations were fronts for some rather nasty mercenary groups. When they said 'shipping', they were referring to slaves, drugs, and other illegal or questionably obtained items. The holder of the original claim HAD shot down the cargo freighter, and had done so having heard rumors that it was shipping the mysterious Jebble Box. The pilot of the cargo ship tried hiding in the asteroids, and had crashed, but it achieved the primary goal of hiding from the mercenaries turned pirates long enough to launch a specially made, extra large escape capsule, taking the Jebble box with. Mercenary group A, the first group, tried to cover up the missing cargo and escape pod with the extra starfighters, and was trying to sell the claim to one of the other two groups, who had also heard the rumor of the jebble box's presence. However, none wanted to pay the exorbitant fee that Mercenary group A were charging.

    After returning to the temple, and a short meeting with other Jedi Knights to confirm what Grishnak had sent ahead in his report, Ewan found himself slightly out of touch in the temple. As a Jedi, the passing of a fellow was not to be dwelled upon, but after a short service for the fallen Jedi, he found that no one seemed to enjoy speaking with him. He was far too old to find enjoyable company in the younglings, and his peers were often off with their masters on various missions and expeditions, and even when they were at the temple, the rancor in the room seemed to make all conversations uncomfortable, as he had yet to be assigned a new master to finish his training. He had asked what would happen to him now, a few days after the service for his old master, and had been placated at the time with flimsy reasons he was given. "No one is available" "Those who would, already have an apprentice" and so on.

    Months had passed, when he finally gave up. He had even asked if he could be allowed to attempt the trials, to become a Jedi Knight on his own, but was denied. He was too young, and not yet ready to face the trials, much less the responsibility of being a Jedi Knight yet. Moping in a most un-jedi like manner, he made his way to one of his favorite places in the temple, the repair bays. Once there, he was noticed by the foreman, a friendly, older fellow, who upon seeing him, asked why he hadn't been down to see the gift his master had prepared for him before they left. The foreman was a little speechless when he realized that Grishnak may not have had a chance to inform his student about the aforementioned gift. "Follow me," he said, and led Ewan to a far corner of the bays, and presented... A 10-mete long heap of metal. "That", the foreman said, "my friend is a wrecked Delta-7. Your master was going to be going part of some diplomatic missions you might not have been allowed to go along on, so he wanted to make sure you had something to focus on when you were done with the days training."

    And so the months passed by, with Ewan training during the day, and working on his starfighter in the evening, repairing it where it needed to be fixed, and modifying it to better fit his purposes. Longer now, there was enough room for a co-pilot behind the pilot, he would say to those who asked, 'Or more supplies and fuel,' he would think. Pulling its guts out and revamping its fuel and propulsion systems, 'I just want to see if I can make it work, he would say, when he'd think, 'Its how I'm going to escape'. And eventually, he did. Fitted with a salvaged class 2 hyperdrive motivator in the expanded hull, it would take him wherever he wanted, or just... away. Away from the Jedi, away from the Temple, away from the pitying looks, away from those who left him to rot in limbo, unable to progress with no one lead him forward. Now he would make progress in a different direction, HIS direction. Late at night, with a bundle of supplies disguised as a package of parts for the hyperdrive he had installed last month, he made his way into the hangar. Having moved the starfighter there the previous day, he was cleared to for a short 'Test flight'. Climbing into the cockpit, he keyed on the engines, and after confirming his 'flightpath' with the hangar computer, he took off. Up, out of atmosphere, and into hyperspace.
  3. Name: Mistrielle Kymeri
    Species: Dathomirian
    Gender: Female
    Age: 18

    Force Sensitivity: Major

    Height: 5"8
    Hair: Brown, pulled back in cornrow braids and the braids braided together themselves
    Skin: Dark tan
    Clothes: Animal hide leather clothing, very covering to battle the elements.

    Mistrielle Kymeri is the banished daughter of Amaya Kimeri, the Clan Mother of the Howling Crag Clan. She has been banished for two years on her own out in the surrounding jungles. There is a basic understanding between her and the village that she atones for her crime by being the scout for her clan's northern region. She has a rancor, Zet, that is among the specially bred pure black rancors special to her clan. The two of them have a home in a non-disclosed location in the caves in the mountains.

    Mistrielle was the prize daughter of her siblings in the amount of Force sensitivity she possessed. This caused a great amount of competition among her sisters, who all vied for the title of Clan Mother one day. The next most powerful and oldest of the daughers, Zvasha, and Mistrielle vied for the same male slave for their mate after Mistrielle brought him into the village. The slave, Oran, had run away from another clan and, by the rules of conquest, he was now Mistrielle's prize. Zvasha challenged Mistrielle to a duel in order to try to secure Oran but failed to defeat her. In anger, Zvasha hatched a plan to get even. The next morning, Oran was found dead, apparently mauled to death by a rancor. There was black fur around the scene but they could not tie it specifically back to any rancor. Perhaps this was because Zvasha controlled the defenses of the village and the investigation fell to her. Mistrielle was enraged and publicly accused Zvasha. Her mother, however, could not find any evidence to support this so the matter was let go. Zvasha, a few weeks later, gained a new mate and Mistrielle saw her chance for vengeance. Zvasha found her mate tortured to death in her dwelling, the words "Murderer" painted on the wall in blood. Mistrielle had already fled the village with some provisions and her rancor. A party was dispatched to try to bring her back for trial but they could never find her. Messages were left that only the matriarch would receive an answer. Amaya set out and she and her daughter made an agreement that day that she would be the scout of the northern region while being banished and the village would provide Mistrielle with things as needed. Two years have passed since then and the time approaches that Mistrielle may challenge to become a part of the tribe again.
  4. Ewan woke to an alarm blaring in the expanded cockpit of his heavily modified Delta-7. Part of the modifications included extending the back end of the hull, which added an extra 4 meters in length to the ship, as well as enough room for a rough hyperdrive, the expanded cockpit, and enough fuel and rations for up to 2 weeks of travel. A week into his foray to the unknown, he had done almost nothing but ride hyperspace lanes as they came, and he couldn't honestly say he had any clue what system he was in at the moment. Sitting up, and quickly scrambling into the pilot's seat, he took in all the information the flashing instruments were telling him. Oxygen levels were dropping, which was a concerning thing, but fortunately it seemed that air pressure was not. A malfunctioning air scrubber was something he could fix with the spare parts he had on hand, a hull breach would require much more in terms of tools, time, and facilities. Unfortunately, he couldn't fix it while in transit. He'd have to land somewhere to get at the system, so he set about searching the system for a reasonable location. There was no sign of interstellar travel, and no signs of civilization even, but the 4 planet from the sun registered as M-class, with a type-1 breathable atmosphere.

    Setting a course, he set down on the edge of an overgrown jungle region, near a range of mountains. Easy enough to set down in, and easy enough to take off from, but plenty of cover to hide his presence from any random passersby in the system. As he descended through the atmosphere, he felt something... odd through the force. He may not have been the most attuned of Jedi hopefuls to the force, but there was something about this planet the boded ill for him. He had originally planned on doing a bit of exploration before setting about his repairs, having always enjoyed that aspect of traveling with his master, but now... 'There are other planets to explore' he thought to himself. Setting down on the planet, he powered down the ship before popping open the cockpit and hopping out. Taking a moment to breath in the fresh air, and enjoy the feeling of a new world below his feet, he pulled out a tool kit and package of spare parts he had prepared for such an eventuality. While his modifications had taken a while, and reduced both the maneuverability and speed of the starfighter, having added nearly 24 cubic meters of space had its advantages, even if a lot was taken up with the addition of a hyperdrive, better communication systems, and better navigation systems. As he walked around the ship, he paused, and pulled out a paint-spray. Something he had thought about as he traveled, was a name for his ship. More than a mere starfighter now, it was his home for the forseeable future, and it deserved a name. Along the starboard edge, after he was finished, written in black spray paint was the name Self-Determination. Feeling more sure about his choice to strike out on his own in the galaxy, he quickly set about repairs to the airscrubbers.
  5. A fluctuation in the life energies of the jungle made one creature pause to look to the sky. It was like a gigantic fire had gone through the sky, with that smoke trail. It was too big to be some sort of signal from the clan. With a focused determination, a message was sent through the winding energies back to the clan about the disturbance and a confirmation was sent back to investigate.
    Stepping forward and going into an odd crouch, like an animal, a vaguely humanoid shape moved through the jungle bushes and climbed up into the trees. Her body moved lightly through the branches and into the next tree. Finally, she got to the source of the smoke and her eyes were wide with confusion. The shiny thing below her looked like it was made of some sort of metal, like the weapons her clan's witches carried. There had been stories of beings coming from the sky with great weapons in the past. She sent another message back to the clan about the metallic thing. Then she saw the humanoid appearing to be working around the metallic object. Light skinned like a ghost, like some of the beings in the stories. She sent a third message about the humanoid. The return message was to be expected.
    Warriors were being sent but she had to make sure he didn't move from this area. Whatever he was doing could be harmful to the jungle and the clan. Slipping delicately down the tree, she didn't even make a noise as she stepped down to the jungle floor. The red light of the sun was beating down on the area, casting the red pall of war upon the area. The warriors would hit in 5 minutes. Wheels turned and she realized that perhaps this was a good opportunity to distinguish herself. Moving silently towards him, she used the element of surprise to knock his feet out from under him. She immediately jumped on top of him and held his arms and legs as still as possible.
    What the human would see after being suddenly knocked to the ground was that a humanoid shape was on top of him. It was covered in heavy animal hides. It looked more like an animal than a human. The bright green eyes peering from behind a leathery mask that had symbols that resembled several mountains. Not a word was spoken as the figure held him down with the strength of a well trained warrior.
  6. 'Shit!'
    In a single swift moment, Ewan found himself rotated 90 degrees and laid out flat on his back. Pinned as he was to ground, by a potentially superior force, the last thing he wanted to do would be to fight or struggle. Hopefully, since he hadn't been killed outright, he wouldn't have to worry about fighting off a knife or blaster, so he focused on gathering information. First, someone had snuck up on him, which was worrying, but not normally so. His connection to the force was not terribly strong, and he had been distracted by thoughts and plans for repairs, as well as destinations he'd like to visit once he got off world again. Second, he was pinned down by a humanoid, clothed in various leathers. No apparent metals meant this was not likely to be some sort of big game hunter or mercenary, so he concluded that there was some sort of primitive society on this world. One that was, apparently, hostile to unknowns. And thirdly, he was being restrained, with the humanoid showing no signs of moving or shifting to reach tools, which meant that he/she/it was waiting for something. Whatever that was, he didn't think he wanted to find out, so he quickly used a Force Push to roll the two of them over. Awkward as it was, it was enough to unbalance the entity above him, and gave him enough leverage to finish the roll.
  7. The humanoid male could use magics?! The sheer surprise of that made her pause for a second after the weird maneuver finished. She then jerked her right light out from underneath him to send a sharp blow with her knee to the groin area. The male's obvious surprise and pain gave her the advantage to roll her over again. This time, she let the magical energies flow through her body to her hand so that he would have much more difficulty moving his hands as she pinned them to the ground. Her other hand grabbed for a bone knife on her belt and she held it against the male's throat.
    From the bushes surrounding them, a group of females dressed in crafted leather armor circled the two. The being above the man, however, did not reduce its grip that pinned his hands down. She looked around, assessing who was here. They appeared to be a group of trainees. Fury filled her when she realized that she had been sent trainees by the War Leader.
    "A hostile invader comes into our territory and you lot are sent?" There was obvious disgust in her words, which flowed in the Common tongue with a distinct accent. "I'll take him in myself. You bunch don't even have your rancors yet." A sharp whistle came from her lips and a gigantic black beast lumbered in from behind a few trees. A few of the trainees jumped; apparently, they had no idea that rancors could be stealthy when trained. Her eyes fixed on the man below her. "If you can understand a word I'm saying, know that struggle will only make your venture more painful and more likely to end up with me allowing Zet to eat you." The black beast moved farther forward at its name and bared it teeth. "I'd suggest you cooperate."
  8. "...and now you've got a pet rancor? Well okay then, fine, I give up." he said, rather petulantly. Surrounded by mysterious warriors, and pinned by another that apparently had a rancor on call, there was nothing more he'd like to do than run away. Unfortunately, they knew the terrain and he didn't, which made evading them unlikely at beast. Thats not even considering the fact that, until he finishes his repairs, he has no way off the planet, and into the wider galaxy. Relaxing his muscles, he stopped any struggling, and waited to see what would happen to him now. 'Nothing good,' he thought to himself, 'but maybe there'll be a better time to escape.'
  9. Reaching around to the small bag on her waist, she pulled out a leather bag big enough to put a large fruit in. She immediately put the bag over the male's head; she couldn't have him knowing by sight the paths they were about to take. Then a few coils of rope were pulled out of her bag and she found his hands and feet. She paid special attention to the hands, taking the time to make sure each individual finger was found tight so he couldn't slip his hands out of the bonds. She then tossed him over her shoulder, being careful to keep the bag over his head, and carefully climbed up her rancor's sides.
    "Hut, Zet." The black rancor lumbered forward, leaving the trainee warriors to scramble out of his way.
    "You can't do this! You can't-" The young trainee's voice was cut off by a throwing knife slicing her cheek lightly. She hadn't even needed to look back for the throw. She kept her rancor moving towards the village.
    After about forty five minutes, they approached the village. Everyone stared at the approaching rancor, whispers of "the exile" flitting through the air. At the center of the village, a large, two story wooden structure with supports carved like totems. The upper level had a landing on the outside of the building that allowed anyone standing above to look down on the village below. The door opened and a tall woman stepped out onto the landing. The woman, Amaya Kymeri, wore impressive robes made up of animal skins and carried a staff with several colorful crystals intertwining on top. The area below the landing was now surrounded by the village's female warriors. She jerked the bag off her prisoner's head and slid down to the ground with the prisoner over her shoulder. She then set the individual down in a not so gentle way.
    "I send word that there is an unusual intruder and you send rookies?" Her voice cut through the air. "He's in tune with the energies and can use them. Your rookies would have done nothing against him."
    "Silence, Mistrielle." Amaya crossed her arms. "I did not send those orders." One of the warriors surrounding them stepped forward. She was wearing impressive leather armor.
    "A simple male capture is enough for rookies." The female warrior sneered.
    "Like how you failed in capturing a slave early on because of his ability to control magic?" Mistrielle replied. "You overestimate your recruits, Zvasha."
    "You will address me by my title, Exile." Zvasha growled.
    "Enough!" Amaya's voice raised to a booming shout that echoed. She stepped off of the platform and landed on the ground with a crashing boom, the ground splintering where she landed. She walked forward to look at the prisoner, putting her hand out to raise him up to examine him. "...this one's been trained, wherever he's been." She released him and let him fall back to the ground. "Why are you here, outsider?"
  10. Laying on the ground, face up, he tried to keep his frustration at the situation under control. "Why am I here? I haven't got a clue as to where HERE is!" Speaking loudly, so as to make sure his voice carried clearly, "There I was, traveling along without a care in the world, when something in my vehicle broke." His voice began to reflect his emotions, controlled as they were, as he contemplated what would happen to him after this impromptu trial, "Then, as I was minding my own business, affecting repairs to my vehicle, I was assaulted and taken captive by your warriors." Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down, setting aside thoughts of the future and focused on the now, as he tried to find a way out of this mess. "I apologize if I have in some way given offense, but I have no idea where I am, nor did I know that anyone resided in this jungle. So, if you'd be so kind as to release me, I would thank you profusely, leave immediately, and never return." While his teacher had been a gifted diplomat, Ewan never had the sensitivity to judge accurately the emotions of those around him, nor just how they would respond to his words.
  11. "You trespassed on our lands, male." Zvasha stepped forward, her spear pointed out towards him. "You're not going anywhere."
    "Silence, child." Amaya glared towards Zvasha. "You have trespassed on our lands, outsider. You clearly know not where you are and to who you speak to." She immediately motioned towards the side. "Urik. Desune. Move him to the barracks and make sure he doesn't move." Two males walked forward. They both were clad in little more than leathers. One appeared to be a gatherer, who set down his bag that appeared to be filled with fruits. The other seemed slimmer and less physically fit. In fact, he had an almost collar like thing around his neck. It was intricately woven leather with a pattern of clouds accompanied by several gems, corresponding to the gems on the matriarch's staff. On closer inspection, the other slave had a simpler leather collar, with a green gem only. As the two moved towards him, a whirling shield of energy surrounded the prisoner.
    "You seem to be forgetting the laws of this land, mother." Mistrielle moved forward. "He's not yours to claim or judge. I am still a warrior of this clan. His life is mine, to do with as I so please."
    "You have no rights Exile!" Zvasha shouted.
    "That..." Amaya put her two hands outward and make a grasping motion. The two women were pulled up into the air. They were both calm, as if this was normal. "That is my decision, War Leader. Not yours." Her eyes turned on her other daughter. "You have your rights. Pray you test me no further. But this outsider must be dealt with. You know the sentence for trespassing on our lands. You also know that this is no ordinary outsider. I do not like the idea of this creature being allowed to live."
  12. Speaking up, he voiced his concerns about the rather rapid legal proceedings, "Hey, before we start passing my continued living around, could a guy get a rundown of what laws are in play? Huh?" After a momentary pause, he added, "and nice Force Bubble, the whirling texture is a nice touch."
  13. "You will be silent, Outsider, if you value your life in the least." Amaya's voice almost seemed to have a growl to it. "We, of the great Howling Crags and of the mystical energies of Dathomir, protect ourselves from outside influences such as yourself." The energies around him suddenly were a lot more cramped. The energy actually scraped his skin at points. But it was like the energy was doing damage to him and then immediately healing him.
    "He's an able-bodied creature. He's Force-sensitive." Mistrielle sighed. "With a bit of breaking in, he could be an excellent addition to the Sons."
    "I'll handle that." Zvasha turned her eyes towards the prisoner. "I can break him within an inch of his life and make him an excellent slave."
    "You can't beat everything into submission." Mistrielle countered.
    "Watch me." Zvasha replied. "Mother, release me and allow me to do this."
    "As I recall, Zvasha, your sister has laid claim to this one." Amaya sighed. "Though, in times of uncertainty, a slave may be taken away. This must be one of those times. He is an Outsider that we cannot predict."
    Mistrielle looked down upon her prisoner. If he was handed over to Zvasha, he would be no more than a drone in no time. What law superseded all of this? Then she knew. The thought made her swallow hard. There was one claim that made it so her prisoner could never be taken from her. It was an arrangement that turned her stomach a bit. It had been years since her last claim of this type. But there wasn't another choice. Amaya had every right otherwise to take him away.
    "No. You cannot take him away." Mistrielle pushed against her mother's power suddenly, causing the pressure to be released. She dropped down next to the prisoner. "I claim the right of Mir'Toch. He, and everything he is and possesses, is mine now." Whispers flooded the surrounding people.
    "...if you so claim, thus it shall be." Amaya raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Two weeks from this day, your return to the village will be heralded as planned. During that time, he will be evaluated for his position in this village. Until with him as you please." She then released Zvasha to the ground.
    "Do with him as you please?" Zvasha snickered. "Do you even remember how to do that? And you're so good at keeping your Mir'Toch alive, aren't you?" Rage filled Mistrielle face but she held her temper. This was not the time to make her sister pay further for her crimes.
    "I will give you your orders inside then you will leave with him." Amaya motioned to her. "Come with me, daughters." The two followed her inside of the building. The two male slaves returned to their previous duties and a few warriors stood to make sure the prisoner did not move from his spot.
  14. "Well, this isn't good," he thought to himself,"I'm apparently going to be a slave of some kind." Staying quiet till the end, the part about the person fighting for ownership of him being an exile, and having to return in two weeks showed promise. It meant he likely had a two week window in which he could find his ship, finish repairs, and get off this miserable rock. It was likely that all he'd have to do to get out of this village was wait and be quiet. Unfortunately, he was a naturally sarcastic soul, who had for a long time restrained himself from the sarcastic arts due to his role as a Jedi, especially one learning from a respected Jedi consular. He had, because of his travels with his master to rather interesting places, picked some rather interesting phrases.
    "So... Zvasha. Was it just me, or did it seem like she was desperate to take me away from the other one, the 'exile'? I could FEEL the hatred there, and she'd probably have fucked a rancor if someone told her it would somehow screw with the exile." He laughed as he filled his words with the force, giving them an amusing, light-hearted appeal that they may have lacked in their own. He may soon be a slave, hopefully for a short time, but he could get some revenge if he could get people to laugh and whisper about miss-I-get-off-to-torture. "I mean really, she seemed like the type who'd suck start a freighter for fun, so fucking a rancor isn't out of the picture. Hell, that could be why she's so wound up, she's been stretched so much that nothing satisfies her anymore."
  15. The warriors were stoic as they listened to the insults the Outsider was making. There was some truth in it, that the War Leader would do anything to make the Exile's life difficult or attempt to annoy her. The bit about fucking a rancor, though...that went over an edge. There were rumors of other tribes using bestiality to sate their urges but that wasn't the norm here. A look flashed between them before one of them ripped a piece of cloth from the prisoner's clothing to stuff into the mouth that apparently didn't want to stop talking. Any mark laid on the Exile's Mir'Toch would be taken about ten fold on them and these women happened to value their lives.
    The Exile exited the building, carrying a few bags of indeterminate objects. She whistled for her rancor and everyone moved out of the way of the beast. It really did seem to dwarf the other rancors in the village. Mistrielle fastened each of the bags carefully onto Zet's back then turned to face the warriors surrounding the prisoner. Her hand was raised towards them and the warriors scurried out of the way quickly. The prisoner was raised by an invisible force up and onto Zet's back. Mistrielle settled onto Zet's saddle, the prisoner laying like a sack of fruit in front of her.
    "Stay still and don't give me problems. The alternative is being dragged behind Zet and through the undergrowth. Who knows what thorns and poisonous plants you could run into?" Her tone said that this was a threat but she wasn't actually going to do that. She needed him in one piece so that he could show her that metallic thing and how it worked.
    Gagged as he was, nothing he said was in any way comprehensible, except as possibly derogatory in some manner, so he took advantage of it, and released his frustration at the situation via garbled words. Otherwise, he remained rather compliant as he was hauled into position on the rancor, as being dragged through the underbrush of the jungle was not likely to make it easier to escape, not with his hands and feet bound. He'd continue playing the waiting game, he had two weeks after all. Granted, he wasn't sure what a week panned out to on this planet, but it was likely to be more than a few days. Plenty of time to plan and mount an escape.
  17. "You have an inability to control your emotions under stress." Mistrielle raised an eyebrow. She was waiting to get far enough away from the village and make sure no one was tailing them before she allowed her prisoner to talk. Her keen ears started picking up movement around her that was too big to be most vermin in the jungle. She stopped Zet and concentrated for a moment, drawing the energies of the forest around her into a condensed, swirling globe. Then, she released it outward with great power. A few screams echoed as the people who had been tailing her were thrown backwards towards the village like meat sacks.
    "Hut, Zet." Zet moved with a greater speed than he had displayed before; yet, there was almost no sign of their trail. They soon approached a river, which Zet immediately began to swim against the current. Mistrielle held the prisoner's head above the water; no point in the creature almost drowning. That would be an annoyance. The river came to the base of a mountain. Seven different waterfalls fell down the side of the monolith. Zet climbed dexterously up the side to the fourth waterfall up before slipping behind the rushing water.
    Mistrielle immediately dropped the prisoner onto the floor and grabbed the bags off of Zet's saddle. After Mistrielle slipped off of his back, Zet lumbered over to an area that appeared to be a gigantic nest of dying plants. The beast fell without ceremony into the nest and appeared to have fallen asleep. Mistrielle began pulling off her scout's garb, revealing leather armor similar to Zvasha's underneath. She saw no need for armor around this prisoner. He had no armor himself, just strangely cloth articles. Most men here had no need to be that covered. The women did not particularly enjoy wearing heavy clothing either, considering how hot it was. She wondered how long it would be before he started showing signs of heat stroke. Beneath the armor were leather bindings to keep the breasts from bouncing painfully from all the riding and movement. Leather lengths fell in front of and behind her leather torso, reaching barely mid way down her thighs. A necklace made of teeth from different beasts hung around her neck, accompanied by a black stone. The Howling Crag mountain tattoos were on both of her shoulders, with strange, unrecognizable markings like writing twisting around her arms. Her hair was a conglomerate of braid that were braided together themselves, seemingly for convenience. She sat down, reaching into one of the bags and pulling something out that was out of sight of the prisoner, and began working on something out of his field of vision.
    "So...who are you, Outsider?"
  18. Ewan had never realized just how tiring being held captive could be. You'd think that being hauled around for hours on the back of a giant beast would be, while not restful, at least reasonably easy on the body. Not so, as he found out, or maybe it was because of how he had been thrown across its back. In addition to that, you body tenses up, trying to be ready for anything, be it escape or to defend yourself. As he lay on the stone floor of the cave, in a soaked heap, he shouted, "SFH FODST DS REOMO DSO DEG!". Bound hand and foot still, and gag still in place, he wasn't quite sure what she really expected as a response.
  19. "...oh right." Mistrielle chuckled. "How forgetful of me. You can't actually answer me." What she was working on in her hands she quickly put down, still keeping it out of vision. Before taking the gag off, she picked him up and set him down not so gently next to the fire pit, propped up against a rock. "Now, I'd really rather not deal with a bunch of shouting right now. This cave echoes a lot. And Zet is asleep and doesn't take kindly to be woken up by shouting." As if in answer, Zet rolled over in his sleep and snorted. "The gag can come off. If you start shouting, I'll let you be Zet's chew toy for a little while." She pulled the gag off and settle back down into working on whatever she was hiding. She had her knees pulled up so it was still out of sight.
  20. Grunting in discomfort, as he was roughly set up next to a rock, he wriggled a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position. He didn't find one. As he continued his minor struggle to make his position more favorable for himself, he derived a couple things from what his current captor had said. One, No Shouting. We're in a cave, so that didn't really need to be said. Two, the pet rancor has a nasty temper. Good information there, as if there was a rancor with a GOOD temperament. Three, she wants something. Something more than a body or a laborer. So, when he was asked a question, he answered, figuring that if he could figure out what she wanted, he could barter it for enough freedoms to escape. "My name is Ewan," he said, in a tired voice.
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