Open Jakku Mortalis Encantatum

[Sariel Rhovan]

Spoiler: IC Theme

Somewhere on Jakku...​

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Sariel woke up feeling as if she had been hit by a landspeeder at full speed. Her body throbbed with a soreness that burned and stung all the same. Where was she? Opening her eyes felt like lifting ten pound weights with her eyelids. Was she drugged? Had Aren found the same fate? That must have done the trick as Sariel gasped and shot her eyes open to see an alter before her, slathered in deep red blood that had dried and stained what would've been a beautiful stone sculpture. Behind it was a robed figure that seemed to be conducting a hideous choir of the damned.

Sariel looked to her left and right, finding that she had been tied up next to a line of other victims who were all wearing ragged clothing. Each breath she took seemed to get heavier and heavier as she scanned the group of soon-to-be sacrifices for her son. Aren wasn't present- but was he safe? Had they already done the deed?! Or was he hiding... Why couldn't Sariel remember what had happened within the past twenty-four hours? What had they done?...

"For the Animus who brought forth the reckoning of our Order!" Cried the cult fanatic as the choir continued on with their death-song. Then, someone from the shadows grabbed a man next to Sariel, cutting the binds to his pillar before dragging him to the alter.
"In the name of the Marrow, our Immortality, the Sinew, our Godskins, the Pulsaries, our Tumor, the Bled, our Children, and the Veins, our Destiny..." The man was slammed on top the alter as the choir reached the climax of their devil chanting.

"We so sacrifice you to our lord, the Animus, the Night-Father, the Doom!!"

The ceremonial knife plunged through the man's chest, and the cult leader gave a simple twist and pull, ending the sacrifice's life. The choir didn't stop and now Sariel could see them in the dim light. They were all of different races but predominately Orcolans and Zabraks, all wearing red and black face paint resembling that of a skull. Then, another cultist emerged from behind another victim and brought her to the same fate the other man faced. Sariel could still hear the ringing of the woman's screams after she passed. Terror began to take hold of the Matukai as she awaited the same doomed fate.

Who were these people and why were they doing this?

Spoiler: OOC Note

Open to any would-be rescuers of any faction, 48-hour posting limit.

 

[Ariadne Blain]

The rumours had flown thick and fast on Jakku. Secret meetings. Strange markings. Missing people. All the hallmarks of a cult... and Ariadne was becoming something of an expert at those. Another sparse world. Another spate of disappearances. Another group of malcontents. If she was a betting person (she was), she'd usually put her credits on Killik infestation. Something about this particular situation made her hesitate this time.

The cultists were not subtle. Robes. Wicked singing. The flash of blades. It was rather cliche, if Ariadne was any judge. She watched from afar, through binoculars, waiting. Taking in what they wore, the patterns, any trace of faces. They hid themselves decently, and she was too far away to pick out specifics even with the lenses. Her droll attitude slipped as soon as she saw them pull someone over onto the altar. The bloody altar.

Oh. That's what this is.

She sighed, slipping her binoculars back into her bag. Direct intervention was now going to be necessary. The sands shifted beneath her feet as she approached in the darkness, sticking to shadow, taking advantage of the cultists distraction. The sacrifices continued on and time grew short. Whatever she was going to do, she needed to do it now.

Ariadne pulled out her blaster pistol. Aimed it squarely at the man who looked like a leader. Holding her breath, she pulled the trigger, twice. Two blasts. She didn't stop to see where they went. Instead, she bent herself down and started moving quickly, in the returned darkness, in the hopes she could reposition before the panic of blaster fire would end.

@Charles

 

[Drow Venn]

Being the Jedi Order's First Shadow wasn't easy in the best of times. It was a thankless job that typically involved a whole lot of infiltration, lying, murdering, stealing, spying, fleeing and, worst of all, meetings. Meetings from every which way. Which Sith convoy to attack next, whether this Sith defector could be trusted, and so on. It was a difficult job already and after the Killiks declared war on the galaxy? It was practically impossible.

An enemy that could be literally anyone, from your next-door neighbor to your worst enemy, meant that defeating them was a monumentally difficult task. Frankly, Drow wondered why the Shadows even bothered to help out with this conflict - it wasn't as though a hive mind was an ideal target for the Shadows - but he had agreed to lend their efforts to this war and, begrudgingly accepted the ceasefire with the Sith.

Not helping matters was the fact that the Shadows, by their nature, didn't have a whole lot of manpower to cover every lead and dig up every clue. While Drow liked the fact that this meant that he was still in the thick of things, he was getting on in years and finding time to sleep was proving to be harder and harder to do.

Tired as he was and as jaded as he'd become doing Shadow work, Drow was still a Jedi at heart. And though this lead on potential Killik activity had turned out to be a dead end (it was nothing more than your run-of-the-mill death cult), Drow wasn't going to simply abandon the mission and let these people die. In true Shadow fashion, he had stolen a cultist sentry's robes (the unfortunate sentry now had a mysterious lightsaber wound in his head) and was now making his way to the altar, seeing the executioner as the priority. Whether he was the leader or not, the guy was the one killing people and, therefore, the clearest threat.

However, it seemed as though he wasn't the only do-gooder here today as the sound of a blaster rang out from far away. As one of their leaders on the altar fell over, the other cultists buzzed with activity; some moving to secure their line of prisoners and some whipping out weapons of their own. Realizing that these next few seconds would be crucial, Drow activated his yellow-bladed lightsaber and thrust it through the nearest sentry that was moving towards the prisoners.

"Come on then! Let's see if your afterlife is real!" Drow shouted as he twirled his lightsaber, ready to deflect any bolts coming his way. He figured with an unknown blaster-wielder out there, it was best to draw the cultists attention with his voice and lightsaber and give the shooter easier targets.

@Charles @Charndley

 

[Sariel Rhovan]

Just before Sariel was to be taken as a sacrifice, the Cult fanatic was struck by two blaster bolts that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was the longest and quietest five seconds of the Matukai's life as the entire mass of genocidal psychos froze in their tracks. But as soon as a stranger ignited a yellow lightsaber and challenged the mass of cultists, chaos ensued. A few of the Zabraks began channeling a strange black and green ichor that gave their eyes a devilishly green glow. They all turned their attention to the intruder, drawing wicked vibro-blades of all shape and manner.

"Kill the spares!" Ordered on cultist as another drew a long curved sword that was too big to be a sickle but too long to be a scimitar. He snarled before lunging towards Sariel, hopping to cut down through her chest and torso. But, the Matukai was quick and evaded the attack while reaching her bound hands forward. The wicked-sickle cut through the rope, releasing Sariel from her bonds. Hope flooded Sariel's emotions, but she needed to focus and find Aren first.

Sariel was quickly on her feet, side stepping and ducking to avoid being hacked into shreds. The enraged Zabrak then sent a volley of light green lightning from his free hand, striking Sariel and throwing her on her back. The feeling of being stabbed with an icy hot blade raced all over her body, and after she opened her eyes, the Zabrak was about to swing down on the Matukai. With a gasp, she rolled to the side, the sickle striking only sand and dirt, and Sariel took the opportunity to kick the Zabrak's wrist aside, causing him to let go of his weapon which was still in the dirt.

Then, in one fluid motion, Sariel drew the blade from it's earthly sheath and embedded it in the cultist's throat. Finally, she could gather herself... but, there were still others like her who had been abducted. Sariel began cutting their bonds with the sickle but saw no sign of her son. Please let him be alive!

@Fantasy Liver @Charndley

 

[Ariadne Blain]

The blaster shots rang true. The fanatic fell to the ground and suddenly, the ritual was cut short. There were a couple of seconds of frozen shock as Ariadne moved through the darkness, making her worry. If they listened, if they looked carefully, no doubt they'd find her. She was saved by the flash of the yellow lightsaber. It definitely shocked her. The gleaming yellow pulsed in the harsh darkness, highlighting so many robed figures.

The panic grew amongst the cultists as the saber flashed. Ariadne heard the swish of blades, the snarl of fighting, the hiss of a saber being used. The robes were moving, making it harder for her to take shots. Attention was drawn towards the mysterious saber wielder though, leaving plenty of targets. Repositioned towards the back of them, facing towards the fighting, Ariadne stepped forwards.

As she moved, she took aim at the cultists ahead. Squeezed the trigger. Fired. One blast. Two. Three. When a robe fell, she aimed at another. Plenty of targets swishing, as the cultists were caught between the yellow saber and the blasters. She didn't hide herself anymore, stepping into the dim, yellow-tinged light. Blood was splattered in the sand, and she saw someone scrabbling with a blade. Ariadne was halfway to firing off a snap shot before realising taht she seemed to be cutting bonds.

"Get the rest," she told the woman quickly, moving near to her. Eyeing around the chaos. Black and green eyes flicked towards the both of them, making Ariadne shiver. Creepy freaks. There was a crackle of wicked lightning on the cultist's fingertips. "I'll cover you!" she yelled as she fired off a couple of shots, getting ready to leap out of the way of the expected bolt.

@Charles @Fantasy Liver

 

[Drow Venn]

Drow moved like the water of an old stream; slower perhaps in his aging years but graceful and constant as he sliced his way through the cultists. He defaulted to his Makashi, remembering Master Drallig's words as he cut his way to safety.

Once he'd made enough of a gap, Drow let out a tremendous Force Bellow to stun the rest of the surviving cultists and began to run, hoping to draw them down the winding road that led up to the altar and into prime sniping position

 

[Sariel Rhovan]

Now there was hope! It took the form of two strangers who were as appalled by the cult as Sariel was. The Tiefling hero earned her a bow of the head from Sariel, before they avoided another lightning strike. After the Matukai finished freeing the other captives, she led them away from the rapid cultists who were now seeking to flee from the scene themselves. A few of the warrior-caste members decided to stay, however. The majority would go after Sariel and Ariadne, attempting to recapture the hostages while a squad of five would aim to take down the Ishi Tib.

"Wait! My son! Have you seen my son?" Sariel asked the other captives, only receiving worried glances and the shaking off their heads from side to side. That hope that was once burning so brightly diminished. Aren hadn't been sacrificed- he was alive! Sariel could feel it in the Force. She stopped and turned on her heel to face the pursuing cultists with her gnarly sickle. Maybe if the Matukai could get one of them alive, she could find her son.

"I'm not leaving without him..." She would say to Ariadne with a bold expression.

@Fantasy Liver @Charndley

 

[Drastus Drahr]

As the mob pursued the prisoners, a flash of white light would swing from behind a pillar, the hot plasma of the white lightsaber cleaving through the neck as a hot knife would through a butter. There was no scream, no chance for shock.

A form clad in gray beskar would flourish his saber before cutting into the next cultist. Drast had been drawn here by the Force, something he had long thought to remove himself from. He had no idea why, until he saw it, felt it, the darkness.

The third victim managed a scream, his club bouncing aimlessly off of the beskar pauldron. "Get them to safety!" He yelled over his shoulder to the Jedi. With quick steps, he positioned himself between the mass and the prisoners, the enemy now cautious of the lightsaber.

To him, these were enemies that needed to die, just the sick and the depraved. It was then he noticed the reason he was pulled there: Master Venn. It had been years since Venn pulled Drast into the Shadows, years since he departed with Lani. Part of him was relieved to see the old warhorse.

His saber was lifted overhead in a two-handed grip, his voice deepened by the speakers of his helm, his T-visor lifeless as it bore into the hearts of those before him. "Every step will cost blood.. how much are you willing to spend?" It would be his God, Kad the Destroyer, against their heretical master.

@Charndley | @Fantasy Liver | @Charles

 

[Ariadne Blain]

The Force blasted and swelled around the freed captive and Ariadne as the other attacker scattered the cultists. Now the battlefield was chaos, with fleeing prisoners and cult members scattering into the darkness. The woman hung close to Ariadne, begging to find her son.

"Fine... fine, I'll do something," Ariadne said, wondering what exactly the woman thought she could do in the middle of pitched gun battle. She raised her blaster, firing a couple of shots off into the mob of approaching warriors, when a bright, white light cut into one of them. Another lightsaber. Ariadne noticed the gleam of armour and the distinct T-visor of a Mandalorian Warrior.

Clearly, the Force felt this day could only get stranger.

Ariadne held her blaster as she stood from her hastily-chosen cover, still keeping an eye on the mob as she did. The majority of them stood there, staring at the Mandalorian's humming lightsaber. She looked down at the woman and then sighed, turning to look at the mob again.

"Put down your weapons and tell us where your other captives are!" she bellowed into the dark lull. She heard her voice echoing in the sands around them. "Or we end this with you all dead."

She'd given them a choice, right? So the Jedi code was cool about her threatening death afterwards like that, surely. Something for the philosophical types to ponder, once she'd kicked the living crap out of some cultists.

@Charles @Fantasy Liver @Rhogar

 

[Sariel Rhovan]

The cultists that hadn't fled stopped after the Mandalorian Jedi joined the fight. Though they had strength in numbers, they would be outmatched by the group now. So, after Ariadne asked for them to surrender, the all kneeled and got rid of their weapons, except for a small crooked looking dagger which they all pulled from their waists. One by one, they began plunging the blades into their stomach, sliding it to left and then the right before twisting the blade and pulling it back out.

Frozen in fear, Sariel couldn't do anything else but watch in horror as these psychopaths began sacrificing themselves. She needed at least one of them alive to find her son- My son... -and that thought gave her the courage to begin moving again. The Matukai spotted a Zabrak who hadn't gutted himself yet and quickly disarmed him and knocked him on his back. With her foot on his chest, he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

"You will tell me where you are keeping the others..." Sariel usually never used the Force like this, but she hoped the mental manipulation would get something out of this guy. The Zabrak winced before relaxing himself, "We... We kept a few...inside the cavern... They were special..." A sigh escaped from Sariel and she closed her eyes, silently thanking the Force for guiding her this far. "Take us to the cavern. Now."

@Charndley @Rhogar @Fantasy Liver

 

[Drow Venn]

"Drastus." Drow said shortly but warmly. it had indeed been years since he'd attempted to recruit the boy into the Shadows. A boy much like himself in that he often flirted too much with the darkness in his fight against it, his bid to join the Shadows (and indeed, Knighthood) had been rejected by the Council. Drow disagreed with the decision but respected the Council's authority. However, just because Drastus wasn't a Shadow didn't mean that the Shadows couldn't use him as an asset and the Ishi Tib felt glad of his presence. It was good to have someone also battle-tested and committed to the light with him here today.

He said nothing yet, not wanting to step on this mother's toes but he did back her up by standing behind her, keeping his saber activated in case this Zabrak cultist proved uncooperative.

@Charndley @Rhogar @Charles

 

[Eileen Van Alasdaire]

From the distance, emerald eagle-like eye thinned within their helmeted socket. It had been years since Eileen had seen other Jedi, spending most of her time as a silent observer on devastated worlds, healing the sick, defending the wounded. The display brought forth today was like a light show in the eyes of the Force. Light against Dark, light tainted with dark… both welcoming to see, and concerning. She had known by presence alone that several Jedi had converged to defend the innocent, electing not to get involved directly. Not yet.

Upon hearing about the freed captive was not alone, but rather the Zabrak cultist had elected to move those touched with the Dark to the inner chambers of the caverns below, Eileen sighed. This is where she would make herself known. Cursing silently, she rose from her perch above the surrounding landscape and hopped with grace, sliding down the sand dune with an outstretched hand to guide her path. Anyone with a careful eye and heightened senses would be able to tell, from the shift in weight of the sand to the ginger movement the Jakku wasteland provided.

As a cultist, watching the last of his kin commit ritual suicide, raised his weapon to finish the job, a silent crack could be heard. As Eileen landed at his back, grabbed the base of his skull - transferring all the force from her fall to throw it unceremoniously against a rock. The resulting force caused the being to be rendered unconscious instantly.

The initial battle was over, but the second skirmish was about to begin. Opening herself to the group and allowing her presence to be known, she waited in the shadows of the dim torchlight. It was up to the girl to decide how best to help her friends, and it was up to the elder Vahla to see to it none of the Jedi got corrupted by what lay beneath them. She recognized two of the group - Lucien and Master Drow. The rest, including the hapless mother, were unknowns to her.

Silencing her thoughts, she gently grabbed at the unconscious radian cultist’s neck. Turning the necklace it wore about, Eileen was taken aback. The symbols were carved on white moonstone, each symbolizing different, equally as evil beings strewn about the cosmos. Symbols of the Son, the Bogan, even some ascribed to the Dathomiri Fanged God and Sith teachings. Another overlooked Sith cultist, likely led by someone or something with the teachings to produce such accurate glyphs.

 

[Drastus Drahr]

His saber would continue swinging out until the cultists lost their taste for battle. "Smart choice." This wasn't his first foray with cults and so he expected them to do something malicious: he just expected it to be against them. The first suicide would catch him by surprise, but the second attempt would end in a pained scream as hot plasma cut through wrist, cauterizing the wound as the limb hit the ground.

His boot would then pin the cultist on his back, someone needed to pay for their crimes. His saber fizzled before he tucked it away, his hand now resting on the grip of his blaster. His visor scanned the scene, sickened by the cultists.

A Mother conducted a battlefield interrogation, odd to him that Venn allowed it, but nonetheless he offered the First Shadow a nod of his head. To his surprise, he wouldn't be the only Jedi he recognized as Knight Alasdaire made herself known. The last time he had seen her, he was still a teenager, and it was in the depths of Coruscant. He offered her too a nod, even if she didn't reconize him.

@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Charndley @Aurius

 

[Ariadne Blain]

The initial wave of triumph that washed over Ariadne quickly fizzled as the cultists lowered their weapons, only to start plunging blades into their stomachs. She gasped, frozen in wide-eyed shock as they moved as one in ritualistic suicide. Fortunately, a couple of the others had been quicker off the mark than her in stopping them, leaving a couple of cultists alive and in their hands.

The whole thing was turning more and more surreal by the second. Despite the continued arrival of yet more people, lingering at the edges of the night, very few seemed to be interested in the reality of what was happening. Looming in the periphery for some silent, forlorn mission or busy rekindling old relationships.

She felt the mother reach into the Force to help interrogate the cultist. Such firm and forceful application made her a little unsure, though she didn't doubt how determined a mother could be. Stepping ahead, she eyed the others surrounding them.

"There are still some people in danger out here so... if you could save your moody staring," she said, waving to the presence lingering in the distance, "or your long-lost reunions until after the civilians are free, that'd be swell?" With a huff, she turned back towards Sariel, kneeling down with her hand still on her blaster. One hand moved onto the cultist's shoulder.

"Whatever they decide, I'm with you. We're getting them out of those caverns," Ariadne vowed to her, nodding quickly. She hoped the rest would fall in line and do something, but she knew what Jedi were like sometimes. If there was an argument to have, they'd have it there and then, innocent lives be damned. "And if you even think of leading us astray, then you'll spend your long, remaining days in the brightest, smallest, meanest Jedi prison we have," she hissed to the cultist as she dragged them to their feet. Blaster pointed firmly in their back.

"Go on then. Lead the way. Quietly." The latter word was accompanied by a nudge with the blaster barrel.

@Charles @Fantasy Liver @Rhogar @Aurius

 

[Sariel Rhovan]

After being threatened, the Zabrak cultist was more than willing to comply and quickly got to his feet. The more Sariel examined him, however, the more she began to realize just how young this boy really was. How could anyone raise their own children to be apart of such a gruesome religion- if you could even call it that. This young cultist was young enough to be Aren's twin. Regardless, this boy had tried to kill the Matukai and the remaining captives. He would only be pitied after he was locked away where he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore.

"Thank you, master Jedi. All of you." Sariel would say to her many rescuers before closely following the young cultist. It wouldn't take long for the group to reach the caverns, where it would appear the remaining cultists had escaped to. The spot the boy had led them to allowed for the group to overlook the entire encampment. Near the far back of the camp laid several metal cages holding about three humanoids per cell. They would all notice that the captives were children. However, one by one, the cultists were taking the prisoners out of the cage and moving them deeper into the cavern where the group would not be able to observe.

"Where are they taking them?"

"..."

"Where are they taking them?" Sariel pressed the end of her war-sickle on the cultist's throat, who began to shake out of worry. "I...I... We're moving them to the Stone...So...so...they can see... So they can see the truth..." The boy stuttered. It didn't matter what this stone was- Sariel wouldn't see her son become twisted as the cultist before her. She wasted no time and dropped down into the encampment, using the shadows to help her weave through the panicked cultists. What the others did with the boy, she did not care. Her son and the others needed out of this place and fast.

@Charndley @Fantasy Liver @Rhogar @Aurius