Ask Dathomir A Dathomirian Dance

[Derium Vark]

Derium staggerred down the ship's opening and set foot on the muddy ground. Underneath his clay mask, the Shaper smiled as he felt the mud between his bare toes. The warm humid air, the sweet smelling plants, the buzzing of insects... Dathomir was quite the paradise for those who knew how to appreciate it. And for those in tune with the spirits, or as some call the Force, this planet was a unique beacon for those aethereal forces.

Derium didn't take long to enjoy the scene however. The skeletal-esque man was not here for the sights nor the connection with the spirits. He was here for the residents of the planet. Those fabled, but quite real, beings called nightsisters. To some, they were just legends or stories told to scare spacers. To others, they were legit threats that marked Dathomir as their own.

The Shaper of Kro Var gripped his celestial javelin tightly. The chained weapon with the tar and coal filled weighted head was his best weapon if the witches were hostile. To Derium, they were family, if in a twisted way. After leaving Kro Var, he had sired a few children with one of the witches of this world, before abandoning this planet for the stars. He couldn't remember much of that time. Most of it was like a drug-fueled dream; difficult to grasp and even harder to retain. When he left, he felt like it wasn't on the best terms with the witch who he had been intimate with. When he left, he swore he wasn't going to return. After all, his perfection was not on this world.

Or at least, it wasn't before. Now, the mad Shaper had returned. Recent events had given him half an ounce of humility, and he recognised there was more to learn about the spirits here. He would prostrate himself at their feet and request their blessings. Whatever they requested of him, he would attempt to fulfill and learn from. Maybe there would be trials of combat, or blood, or endurance. Derium snickered at a thought. Perhaps they would simply request him to sire a few more children. Who knew what these witches wanted.

After restringing his weapon onto his side, Derium made strides into the jungle. If his memory served him right, a village was nearby.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

It was time for Arla to come home. She had been away from the Forgotten Valley for so long that she almost forgot what it was like to be among her people. She had spent plenty of time with the Wandering Stars, but it wasn't the same as being back in her home on Dathomir.

It felt almost... weird. The realization that she'd been gone for so long that she felt almost out of place here struck a nerve inside of her, causing an almost-ache to rise in her chest.

At the end of the day, though, she had put the red back on, slung her energy bow and lightsaber onto her back, and set off into the jungle.

Arla had traveled far and wide through the galaxy. She'd been a Nightsister and then a Sith. She'd fought alongside the Jedi and she'd spent time among the Shapers of Kro Var. She'd met local healers and sages that followed beliefs she didn't have a name for.

Because of this, she thought she recognized the scent of the person who had landed here on her world. Even not having taken up her mother's crown, Arla still felt - and would feel - that this was her world probably until the day she died.

She had made her way with speed toward the landing site, catching sight of the... was he a zombie?

Oh Istar, have you been raising the dead again and not deanimating them before you're done, she thought to herself, frowning and thinking of one of the up-and-coming young Nightsisters who was a little bit too careless at times with her above-average powers.

You are trespassing, she stated coolly a moment later, realizing that this was not, in fact, a zombie after all. He's seen better days, though, I'd imagine, she thought to herself.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

Derium stopped and spun slightly at first the sound of rustling branches, and then the voice. He squinted his eyes, trying to find the source. A withered hand went to his side, about to loose the chain of his celestial javelin. If he had to, he would set fire to this jungle to smoke out the wretch that dared to...

A spot of humility returned when Derium laid his eyes on the female. Bloodshot eyes widened as he recognized a ethereal shriek of the spirits around this woman. Was she a nightsister? She must have been. Who else would be strolling so effortlessly through this planet's sacred forests with such divine essence?

"I am a shaper..." Derium spoke as he raised his hand from his weapon and reached up to his mask. With a pull, he revealed his broken teeth, his bony jaw, and his ever-bleeding gums. "and a listener to the spirits. I am Derium Vark, disciple of the sublime, vile wench, and I..."

Derium paused, recognizing his own pride snaking back up into control.

"I need a blessing, from a mother" Derium finished and knelt into the mud. "Please, pity not this wayward soul, but instead, its elusive apotheosis of perfection"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla looked at the man with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. In times gone by she probably would have just struck out at him to cut him down, and no doubt many of her Sisters would have.

Shapers don't often travel off of Kro Var, she observed. She'd have thought him a liar if she couldn't hear the song of the spirits that he brought with him. Yes, there was no doubt he was a Shaper or at least had trained alongside them.

So you're here to visit with one of our Clans? Why? she asked. Far too many people came here just to plunder tombs and temples. He at least claimed to be here for something else, although it was still to take from Dathomir. At least in a way. Although that was why she had gone to Kro Var, wasn't it? To learn for herself.

You know we don't normally allow off worlders to walk freely here, she said, somewhere between a statement and a question.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

"My path did not remain on Kro Var" Derium replied. "And I told you, to seek a blessing from a Mother. One of your Nightmothers."

Derium's annoyance at having to explain himself started to rise. The urge to to lash out with both words and javelin intensified within. However, his goal kept him humble for the moment. He needed to hold off. Perfection was in the pain perhaps, but growth was sometimes found outside of it.

"I've been here before..." Derium explained, hoping to earn some favor with this woman while reaffixing his clay mask on. "One of your kind helped me on Kro Var, and in turn, I sired her young. She taught me of the spirits, and I taught her fires inside our flesh. But my recent experiences in humility have forced me to return. How else would I know a village lays nearby?"

A flash of anger stirred inside the madman. The memory of losing a battle to a Togruta with a gun, and the entrapment of a prison before being freed by Jedi no less, were powerful experiences. But the experiences on Dathomir had been stronger. Yes, Dathomir was a place to get stronger, whether by rituals and blessings or by training.

"Let me pass witch, and let me gain my blessing"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Yes, and as I'm sure you're well aware "seek a blessing" is incredibly vague, Arla said. She could sense annoyance rising within him, but she didn't back down. On the other hand, she also didn't press with being aggressive, though the tension in the air seemed to begin to rise. That familiar twitch of tension in her muscles began to rise like it often did during a hunt.

Scanners. Flyovers. A bluff, she said in reply to his question about knowing if there was a village nearby before waving a hand dismissively through the air. It was an argument she wasn't interested in getting bogged down in although his claims about his connection to Dathomir were... interesting. She still wasn't sure she believed him, although she didn't get the overt sense in the Shadow that he was lying.

What Clan are you looking for? she asked him. She knew that the territory they currently stood in belonged to the Serpent River Clan and she assumed that was who he was looking for.

Do not call me that, she said, her voice turning from its relatively calm and almost laid back tone to suddenly as cold as ice. She had inherited her mother's distaste for the word, though somewhat less violently than her mother.

Assuming by this point that things had not escalated to outright violence, there was only one logical thing for Arla to do next.

I'll lead you down to the village, she said, motioning in a "after you" gesture and waiting until he would draw next to her to begin walking down toward the river in the distance below.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

Derium was about to lash out when the woman. Her questions, he comments, her demand; This specimen was infuriating. Did she not understand what he was? A student of pure perfection, in all its putrid beauty.

"You want explanation of Blessings?" Derium snarled slightly. "Bah. Empowerments, approvals, enlightenments, connections with the spirits themselves...whatever your Nightmother will bestow upon me. As for clan...I don't know many names of clans, for all are bound by the twin spirits. Perhaps it was snake or worm? I remember an image of a snake in my mind. Back when I was drugged so strongly I couldn't see anything but the spirits. Bah, it doesn't matter. During my stay, I did not learn your ways. I learned what I wanted, and then left. I see now that was a mistake. But I care not for the past."

Her request of not being called a witch put the Kro Var off guard, though under his mask he smiled at being able to anger someone with just a word.

"Good..." Derium commented as the Sister allowed him forth. However, as he walked, he kept one hand on the Javalin at his side. Something about having someone behind him didn't make him comfortable. Not that an attack would be rejected. After all, a flash of pain would call the spirits forth, would it not?

Through the underbrush, Derium walked, taking whatever directions the female ordered. As he walked, he heard the sound of running water ahead.

"Ah, a place to clean wounds...I remember that vaguely. And the sound of bats...biting bats..." Derium snickered. "Their teeth excite me so. Tell me, if I shouldn't call you witch, what should I name you?"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

It was another very vague answer to her question, but he was at least on track to knowing the Clan. It was questionable, but if the Serpent River Clan wanted to kill him that would be up to them.

Arla, she said. And you? she asked. She had mixed feelings about this man. He was a strange thing and almost resembled the elongated life spans of certain Sith alchemists. Or at least the ones she had read about. To be honest, the lifespan of most Sith these days seemed... short. Arla had probably made the right decision in leaving the Order when she did, although it seemed to be bouncing back.

You get bit by a lot of bats? she asked, mostly deadpan though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Indeed, the sound of the river drifted over the jungles now, and Arla couldn't shake the feeling that it was good to be home. Even if this wasn't her Clan's domain, it was all Dathomir.

What happened to the woman you had children with? she asked. Arla had no shame and no boundaries. She did what she wanted... it was good to be Queen. Or... well... almost Queen.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

Derium growled again. Like mad dogs on leashes, his annoyance could not be fully restrained, and he snapped at her. "Are you some deaf harlot? I told you, my name is Derium Vark! Bah, I'd strike you if it helped me worm!"

A moment, and Derium's head cleared slightly. While he didn't apologize for his outburst, the momentary look in his blood shot eyes and his sudden downtrodden demeaner seemed to convey a slight pang of regret. He was a man who had little convergence with the aspects of humility and modesty.

After a pause from his verbal snapping, he turned away and pulled apart the clothes on his back. The man revealed the numerous long lashes, deep scars, and dark bruises sat on his pale skin, his spine looking as if to rip out at any moment. If this man had used bacta and good eating in his life, it was hard to tell.

"The ones near the shoulder is from a bat I believe. One of the first times I summoned fire from the spirits themselves. Oh that was such pain...that pain granted me insights into the world of the spirits. Do you understand Ava? I am their vessel after all. They love my pain, and I love their perfection."

Getting his shirt back on properly, he continued. "As for the missus...I have no idea. I left when the drugs released me. But she wasn't happy, I know that. "

Ahead, the sound of voices. Derium raised an eyebrow and continued a little further. Breaking through some of the underbrush, Derium suddenly found himself ankle deep in water, and with two spears at his neck. The glare of the eyes showed that his arrival was not a fully welcome one.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla was still quite dubious about an intruder on this world, and whatever good will came from the man being a Shaper was quickly being used up. Many Sisters would have just killed the man and left his body to feed the jungle. His insult and threat were enough to tip the scales very much out of his favor, and like a striking snake she lashed out with the Shadow.

He would feel it constrict around every piece of his body in an instant, her silvery gaze now laced with golden flecks. The presence that now emanated from her was a testament to the fact that she was one of the most powerful Force-users to walk the face of the galaxy and there would be no doubt that if she so-chose, she could have snuffed him out without so much as using a quarter of her power, more than enough left in reserve if he decided to make an attempt to strike back.

She put stress on his bones, enough to inflict discomfort but not enough to cause any permanent damage. It was oddly reminiscent of the way she had snapped every limb in Cyu's body during the battle of Kashyyyk though to a far lesser degree. It seemed she still had a great deal of her father in her even after all this time. Darth Raze would likely always be with her, a fact that scared her on some visceral and unspoken level.

I'm not going to suffer insults and threats on my world, she hissed.

I think it's time for you to leave this planet, she said. People on the world had been killed for less, and he likely should have known better than to antagonize a Nightsister on her home world. The fact that he would - if he didn't attack her - walk away with life and limb intact was fortunate.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

The sudden attack came as a surprise. Derium, who had been so focused on other things, keeled over as the discomfort began, water splashing everywhere. .

"You fiend! You...grah!" Derium shouted. He snarled as his mind tried to process through the pain. He had been deceived. Perhaps this had been a nightmother all along. Or perhaps she was just some kind of wench who enjoyed toying with her prey. Either way, Derium had been too kind, too humble. He saw that now. And she was rewarding it with pain.

Derium snickered between snarls and growls. The spirits were louder now. Perhaps this was a blessing he was seeking after all. The blessing of torment. The blessing of remembering why he did what he did. He was a focus for the spirits after all. And the spirits loved his pain. And now, he had an opportunity to show it to these Dathomirians his potential.

Derium leaned further forward and slammed his head into the water into the ground over and over. Each time he brought his head up, blood trickled from the self inflicted cuts on the river's smooth stones. The water around him began to hiss and bubble as Derium focused the Force. Increasing the heat of objects, namely the water, was the simplest application of pyrokinesis.

Letting it all out at once was a bit more difficult, but doable.

"I am the spirits' vessel!" Derium declared. On the third strike, the water around him erupted into a bout of steam and boiling water. Hoping to catch everyone by surprise, his hand went to his javelin. Chain in one hand, he spun it wildly around, its tar and coal filled head trying to create some room for the Shaper, or at least, strike one of the sisters around him.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla didn't actually attack him further as he began to pound his head against the ground. It was clear that he was... mad. Not angry mad, but the bat-bite crazy kind of mad. The kind of mad that was a danger to her and her people. The kind of mad - or even more so, actually - that Taron Malicos had been. This was why the Sisters protected this world so violently. You give people an inch, and they show up and slam their heads into your river...

Back! Arla shouted to the other Nightsisters, reaching out to his attack before it could cut down one of the others. They began to retreat back to their village, opting for protecting themselves and their homes and letting the First Sister take the fight to the intruder.

Perhaps there was something to be said there. Maybe Arla should come back home and truly take up the mantel of Queen. Rule the Nightsisters as her mother had and protect them. Or even lead them into the wider galaxy. She had - once upon a time - considered turning them into conquerors once again, but that had never happened. Most of them had no interest, and Arla... didn't want to risk another invasion of her home. Even if she spent most of her time away from Dathomir, it was still a world she loved.

The thoughts flitted through the back of her mind in a millisecond, but they were not things to dwell on now. This was a time for action.

Her hand brought together an orb of the Shadow and unleashed it at him. It would easily be capable of powering through whatever defenses he erected and would slam him backwards to be swept away by the river.

Secure the village, she said. She suspected he wasn't dead, but she hoped he would have the good sense to leave. If not... well, then the hunt would begin and the next time she would make sure he didn't get back up.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

The others were running. Derium was smiling and barking all the while. "Flee before me maggots!"

This time he saw the attack incoming. For all the good it did him. Even as he swung his Javalin at it to deflect the blow, it merely knocked his weapon aside before burying itself into him, sending him flying. For the next few moments, All Derium could could sense and feel was the water pushing him along, and hold onto his weapon of choice.

He wasn't sure how long he was in the water before he crashed into a fallen log. After coughing out more than a little water, Derium eventually crawled onto the shore.

"That wench! That tricksy little..." Derium started to shout before erupting into laughter. "My blessing is at hand! Either she will give it, or I will take it! The spirits have willed it so! And I am their vessel! She will show me how she did that, yes! My blessing!"

Derium crawled forward through the dirt and mud until his hand touched a tree root. A old but sturdy mushling, Derium gritted his teeth as he crawled and steadied himself at its trunk. Having done so, Derium focused the force once again.

"Ur-spirits, green and quiet" Darium stated, recalling what he knew about the spirits. He wasn't exactly in agonizing pain anymore,. He was simply sore, so he needed to conjure the spirits differently. "Allow me to release you, and awaken you! Come, to life for me! I command it!"

The tree's bark under Derium's touch smoldered before erupting into flames. Derium pulled his hand back slowly, a small fireball coming with him as the flames began to climb the tree. With one swift motion, the madman threw the fireball at another nearby tree, setting it ablaze. Derium cackled as he rewound his javelin into his hand.

"She will come and give me my blessing! Even if I have to release every spirit around me!"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla watched him get washed away by the river, and didn't initially pursue. There was a buzz about the village now and Arla went to try to find the village elders. She received more than a few glances here and there as she passed the threshold of the village. There weren't many part-Sephi Nightsisters, and this Clan had been loyal to her mother during Renfry's reign. They recognized the First Sister when she arrived.

Mother Zanwe, she said, inclining her head respectfully to the Mother of the Serpent River.

Ah, daughter of the Queen. You honor us with your presence. Although I must say, it seems you bring strife with you, she said, motioning to the ruckus outside. Arla expected nothing less than that the woman was aware of what went on within her domain.

A mad man seeks one of your women. Claims to have sired children with her, Arla explained. The man had looked like he was literally rotting away so she half expected the children to be adults or simply dead themselves by this point. The fact that he had been younger than Arla had never crossed her mind.

Ah, perhaps you mean Sylvestra. She was exiled from our Clan for such luring practices. She attempted to capture many malelings in her net, she said. Arla was... not exactly thrilled to hear this. So she's not here, Arla guessed, and this mad man had been lured here to cause problems for everyone.

This is not ideal, she said, preparing to go on and formulate a plan when she heard shouting outside and emerged to see smoke in the distance. It was only logical that this was caused by the mad man, and Arla's face hardened, eyes almost glowing golden with rage. If he would defile their world, she would destroy him. There would be no washing him away, if she saw him again, she would kill him.

Summon the Storm Spirits! she shouted back, knowing the Sisters would be able to put out the fire as she hunted this fiend down.

She tore off into the jungle, something about the direness of the situation and the rage within her caused it to become like second nature again, vaulting trunks, swinging over limbs, and making time through the jungle as only a Nightsister could.

She let her senses sweep out into the surrounding, sensing all that went on around her as she let herself be enveloped on the Shadow. She was the jungle, and could almost feel the whisper of Mother on the winds. This planet had been defiled the day her mother had died, and she hadn't been there for it. Perhaps on some level Arla wouldn't speak of, she saw this opportunity as the chance to set right not being there that day.

Derium would begin to see storm clouds forming in the sky, rains beginning to pour down to snuff out his fire, and for a moment he would sense Arla's approach before she all but vanished from his senses. He would get his confrontation, it seemed.

For her part, Arla began to move more slowly as she drew closer to the area where the fires had raged, years spent as an assassin and as a titled Apex Huntress meant she could move almost silently through the forest as she stalked her prey.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

Derium laughed as he spread the fire wider and wider. With each tree burning and releasing the spirits inside, Derium grew more ecstatic. It took him a few moments for the rain to start for him to even comprehend what was happening.

"Well, well well, it seems I've caught the witch's attention" Derium snarled to himself as he held a cupped hand out to let some water pool. As if to confirm his suspicion, he felt the spirits shriek slightly before going silent again. The woman was approaching.

Before the last flames flickered out, the Kro Var Shaper held his Javelin's head over the dying ember. Inside, the tar and coal became alight. While he wouldn't be able to spread the fames to the forest, at least he could have a source of fire on him at all times. Besides, this is what he was trained in. The Jedi and Sith had their blades, the Mandalorians their guns ...and the shapers had their Javelins.

With both hands holding the chain of his Celestial Javelin, Derium began to spin it in a figure eight pattern side to side. Derium's skin crawled as the water of the rain pelted his skin, the sound of his burning weapon whooshing softly in his ear, and the sound of the water rushing behind him. With the river to his back, he hoped he could face the witch head on when she struck. And this time, he would be ready for her little shadowball trick.

"Come, come to me..." Derium cooed and cawed. "I will have my blessing, even if I must earn it through blood and burns..."

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla moved like a predator of the jungles, her presence seemingly coming from all around him as she approached.

She saw him spinning the weapon through the air, and she saw no reason to hide herself any longer, stepping out into the visible clearing. She had told him to leave, she had defeated him non-lethally... now the ending was assured. This would only end in death, and it would end quickly.

She struck like a serpent again, the entirety of the Shadow wrapping around him. Wisps of green would be visible coming off of his body as he was bodily restrained. He could fight and resist, but it would do nothing. The end was inevitable.

And then his body would break. Unlike earlier when she stopped short of snapping bone, the same would not be said now. His bones would snap quickly followed finally by his neck which would twist until his head came off entirely, letting his body fall to the floor.

He would resist, they all did, but in the end it wouldn't matter. His attacks would be neutralized, his resistance would be overcome, and he would become one more unwelcome visitor who expired in the jungles of Dathomir.

@Narzen

 

[Derium Vark]

The woman stepped forth. Derium smiled and began to move forward, hoping to strike before she could react.

Little did he realize, she was striking already. The wisps of green. The sudden pain within his body. It was like before, but a hundred times worse. His bones were beginning to snap inside of him. The spirits were screaming a cacophony of shrieks and wails. Dathomir itself was coming to life around and inside Derium. Death was claiming Derium, and no abnegation would be heard.

In that moment, Derium snapped.

There are numerous names of what Derium did next. Some called it a berserk state. Sith called it Force Rage. The Fire Shapers of Kro Var called it 'Consumpta intus igni', a state of mind not meant for people to tap into easily nor without thought. But Derium, and perhaps some of the Dathomirian witches, called it 'possession of the spirits'.

Derium didn't feel anything. He didn't think of anything. All he could do was hear the spirits screams and be utterlly under their command. Even as his bones at the joints snapped and grinded, Derium was moving. He could feel his neck beginning to break and pull. But it did not matter. Derium jumped forward, his legs snapping underneath his weight. With broken hands outstretched, he hoped to strangle this witch with every ounce of strength his breaking body could muster.

He had received his blessing. He became utterly connected with the spirits in this brief moment, and was as close to his perfection as he had ever been. Even if he lost this fight and died, he'd be happy. But if he survived, he would leave this planet both humbled and exhilarated beyond measure.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla hurled him back even as he tried to power through her grip, bones broken and body mostly broken.

No doubt he would make his way back to his ship and leave the planet. It was one of the weirder experiences that Arla had ever experienced, but it likely wouldn't be the last strange experience.

OOC: Per our previous agreement from a week ago to end this thread, I'm throwing up a //Thread having you leave rather than attack

//Thread @Narzen