Ask Onderon Moonlit Walks

Cavalry

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Sreeya
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He was not normally in the habit of chasing rumors, but this one seemed too delicious to pass up. Cav was in his element - as he loved to operate alone more than anything. Crimson Dawn had a sweet tooth for Jedi and Sith affiliated artifacts, and those things were incredibly difficult to come by. Despite being part of the syndicates for a number of years and a criminal for even longer, he had never actually seen any of these artifacts.

However, the lead on this seemed promising. Apparently it was some sort of chalice that once held a great deal of importance. It was associated with doing rituals and some other mumbo jumbo he didn’t understand. All he knew was that it was worth a significant amount of money, and he would stand to profit quite a bit if it came into his possession.

And so he found himself in a forest on Onderon, swatting away mosquitos. Allegedly this was the gathering spot for the cultists, and he had been waiting for a few hours. Apparently they came out at night and set up a bonfire to conduct rituals and use the chalice.

He didn’t think it was going to be that simple, and he was always paranoid by nature. Cav took a break to have a smoke before coming back after sunset. It was hot and humid, and he wanted nothing more than to leave. He was sweating beneath the armor and waiting for something he had no clue about.

All he knew was that the cultists wore long robes and sheets and chanted in some ancient language and circled around a fire. Some of them carried torches, but one of them was the ‘grandmaster’ of sorts and he used the chalice to channel ‘ancient spirits’.
 

The Storyteller

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Pol Grizwal hadn't been the leader of this "movement" for very long, but she had quickly managed to gain the favor and interest of almost everyone within the clan. Now in her middle ages, everyone knew that Pol had been around as long as any of them, and even more than that, no one wanted to cross her for fear of her reputation.

In a circle, deep in the forests, the group had convened on another moonless night. Always a moonless night. Fog hung in the air and the fire was still being built. The edges of the group held a handful of men with blasters standing guard against the many creatures of the night, but the meetings always seemed to have some unnatural protection. Never before had an animal crossed the threshold of their small clearing.

There were quiet whispers throughout the group and an undertone of excitement seemed to permeate the group. From behind a rather unsettling mask, she looked out to her followers gathered her.

Prepare the blooding, she said, raising a hand toward the darkness of the bushes. When Cav arrived, he would see one of the men run deeper into the forest on the opposite side of the clearing and a brief rustling could be heard before the man - now accompanied by another - dragged a board nearly the size of a door through the clearing. It became evident shortly thereafter that there was someone or something strapped to it.
 

Cavalry

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Sreeya
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Cav felt uneasy being here, especially as he saw the group coming out in their weird costumes. Not only that, but the masks looked extra eerie. He couldn’t make out any details, but they looked pale and haunting. He switched HUD to night vision to see properly, counting out the figures. He could see that a few of them carried blasters, and that meant another obstacle he hadn’t counted on.

He followed the two men as they hauled out a giant board with something strapped to it. Whatever or whoever it was made quite a fuss, shaking about and banging on the board. Cav couldn’t make out the details just yet, but he observed silently. Based on what he heard the creepy woman call out, he assumed things weren’t going to end well for the victim.

Cav couldn’t spot any objects that stuck out, but he assumed the chalice would be used to collect the blood. He would wait for the ritual to play out and see if it made an appearance before making a move. He kept his focus on the people with blasters, knowing that the cultists would rely on them for protection. If they were on the lookout, hopefully they would be the only ones venturing out to investigate anything suspicious.

He made no other moves for now, having a clear view of the whole thing. He wanted to see what was on the board and how this strange ceremony would play out.
 

The Storyteller

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The young woman strapped to the board had tears streaking down her face. Her voice was gone from all the screaming she had done, and no amount of begging had convinced her kidnappers to let her go. She couldn't understand why this had happened to her. She had no enemies, and everyone in the village loved her. She taught their children and spent even her spare time tutoring them in order to help them excel.

The board was dragged into the center of the clearing, right next to the fire, and the ritual began. Burning, blood, and screams were the three words that best described the horrid scene that unfolded in front of Cavalry. It was enough to make even a hardened soldier grow ill.

Pol, the executioner, waved a hand to her right, and a large bowel was brought over, collecting the blood that gushed freely down the young woman's arms. But still there was no chalice. No sign of what he was after.

The blood was poured onto the fire, and wisps of smoke rose into the air, seeming to form unnatural shapes as a slow chant rose up from those closest to the fire.
 
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