Ask Tokmia Home, Country Roads

[Darth Tempest]

.

In the absence of organic life, it was the wind that had risen up to claim dominance over the glacial plains of Tokmia - howling and wailing with a life of its own. It sang a hollow chorus that carried far over the horizon and reverberated against Vahliri’s sensitive ears, and it carried a chill that paid no regard to the abundance of fur and thermal textile that she wore. Each and every gust caused the half-Annfyn to tug the coat a bit tighter around her small frame, while her hands nestled deep into the fur-lined pockets of the garment. It was miserable and grueling as she trudged through the ice and snow, and that wasn’t even the worst sensation that washed over the half-Annfyn.

More pronounced was a deeper cold - one that had nothing to do with the climate of Tokmia. It was a chill that ran down her spine and sunk deep into her core, filling the half-Annfyn with a sense of dread. The Dark Side was palpable from the moment she had stepped off her shuttle - permiating across the plains and into the glacial ice below. It was familiar in its own way, and yet deeply uncomfortable - even for a trained Sith. It was a presence impossible to ignore, and it was a large part of by Vahliri had come to Tokmia in the first place.

Through tattered scrolls and tomes, legend spoke of Tokmia’s ancient history. It spoke of the cabal of Alchemists who had taken the planet for their fortress, and and the rituals they had conducted beneath the ground. Whether it was through their success or utter failure, the actions of Sith long dead had cursed the frozen wastes of Tokmia - forevermore haunted by vengeful spirits and creatures drawn to the darkness that now cling to the world like a shroud. Legend had turned to folklore and common knowledge, and there wasn’t a sane person likely to step foot on the northernmost continent by choice.

But there were men amongst the ice and snow, all the same.

Cultists had taken residence on the planet over the years - finding and claiming one of the ancient temples that had once been utilized by the Alchemists. What they did within the stone confines of their fortress wasn’t widely known - and there were few people who wished to delve into their secrets. But their actions had progressively drawn the attention of the Empire - and Vahliri had made the proactive decision to address the situation before they became a nuisance. Perhaps it was loyalty to the Empire, or perhaps it was her own curiosity in the group - it mattered little in the end.

After minutes of walking, Vahliri finally came to a halt - amber eyes traveling up the stone obelisk a few feet ahead. It was the rendezvous point that had been discussed with Nakoa, and she figured it wouldn’t be long before he arrived. Even if she didn’t know the other Champion particularly well, his knowledge of the Arcane preceded him and Vahliri wasn’t going to complain about having another set of eyes within the cultist citadel.

For the moment, she waited for Nakoa’s to arrive - listening as the wind continued to howl across the frozen, cursed plains.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

The Wrean shaman was mildly difficult to spot at a distance, his mix of natural colors and thick, white, fur-hooded poncho breaking up his shape against the snow and stone. His face's lower half along with his neck was covered by a winter mask, while amber-lensed glacier glasses were perched on the top half. More concerned with the air's relative dryness than the cold, Nakoa was dressed more lightly than his Induparan partner. Wreans were a species from the deep ocean; it didn't take as much layering to stay warm.

"You look miserable," commented the stone obelisk in accented basic. Or more specifically, one of the bundles of snow gathered around its base. It moved, flakes of snow dropping from Nakoa's hood as he sat up from laying down, turning to fully look at Vahliri from behind his sunglasses. Turned out he was also hard to spot if he lay very still. Nakoa lazily stood from the ground, brushing a bit of snow from his poncho. Beneath, connected to two points on his belt, a strung totem made of some kind of bone lightly rattled. He offered Vahliri a handshake with a gloved hand.

"Haven't noticed others." By which he meant any natives or cultists. Nakoa had his own interests in this old temple and its history on this planet. Despite not knowing Vahliri aside from the ever-churning Sith rumor mill, he'd agreed because of those interests. That and the half-Annfyn was known for competence in direct conflict. A distinct possibility when it came to isolationist cults. Besides, testing his knowledge against new and interesting arcane findings was always entertaining.

"Plan?"

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri knew that she was waiting for the arrival of her mission partner. Thus, the half-Annfyn was expecting the other Champion to round a corner nearby, or appear on the horizon - trudging miserable through the snow. What she wasn’t expecting was for Nakoa to appear out of nowhere in a pile of snow nearby, seemingly unfazed by the awful cold.

She blinked a few times, staring at the fellow Champion when the comment was made. “Yes, well not all of us have a frostbite fetish.” She said unamused. A life spent on Indupar left Vahliri with little tolerance for the cold, and yet she constantly found herself in such conditions. “A bit extra on the camouflage, don’t you think?”

“I’m Vahliri.”

Vahliri crossed her arms over her chest, listening as Nakoa revealed he hadn’t seen anyone else. In her mind, that made perfect sense. Except for travel, why would anyone willingly hang out in the current conditions? It made far more sense they all hung out inside the temple. “Good,” She said with a nod. “The less people that see us until we want to be seen, the better.”

With that, she started to walk ahead - jutting her chin for Nakoa to follow. “Well,” The half-Annfyn tugged on her coat a bit, suppressing a shiver. “Rumor has it that ‘initiates’ make the pilgrimage to the temple regularly, and are put through the orientation process upon arrival. To test their.. Devotion,” She said that last bit with a shrug. “Rather than sneaking around, I say we go along with the process. Gain their trust and get inside.”

Unless Nakoa argued, Vahliri would continue right along - climbing over the dunes of snow on her quest to reach the temple. “So,” Shd glanced back. “Why’d you come?” It wasn’t exactly an ‘important’ mission, and while Vahliri had a reputation, the half-Annfyn lacked the authority of a Sith Master or Lord. If Nakoa volunteered himself for the mission, she could only assume he had mutual interest in their destination.

“Beyond trying to become one with the snow, I mean.”

 

[Nakoa Singh]

"That's true," he agreed regarding frostbite and flicked a small red stone hanging from his belt that resembled a mote of flame. Literally, a fetish to ward against frostbite. Nakoa didn't realize that Vahliri meant something else and had taken it literally. He looked down at his snow-themed clothes, then back up at the other Sith. "I do not." If he thought it was too much, he wouldn't be wearing it.

The Wrean followed along easily enough, boots crunching softly through the thickly layered snow. He listened to Vahliri's plan without giving any commentary, with a brief pause as he digested the words. Then, after careful consideration, Nakoa argued. "But we're not devoted," he stated pointedly. "I'd rather not be initiated into the Cult of the Frosty Testicle or whatever." No element of risk was being considered here, really. He just didn't want to do that and said as much, but being the kind of person he was, he was open to debate about it.

Nakoa smirked at Vahliri's almost conversational question, smirking behind his coverings as he cocked his head. "I finished Tomb Invader and wanted to see what it'd be like in person." His tone gave no hint as to whether or not this was a joke.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri couldn’t help but aggressively roll her eyes when Nakoa spoke - proudly proclaiming that his outfit somehow wasn’t extra. Nevermind the expensive coat the half-Annfyn draped herself in, the Wrean looked like an overgrown mink who’d been digging around in the snow - and she planned to express as much during the course of their journey together. She didn’t miss the fact the man didn’t introduce himself - but neither did Vahliri linger on it. First-name basis wasn’t a prerequisite to working together.

She huffed a bit when Nakoa started arguing her plan. To make matters worse, he didn’t immediately offer an alternative, either. The half-Annfyn’s fluted ears twitched ever-so-slightly before offering the Wrean shrug. “I’m not exactly giddy about it either,” She stated with a clip, “But it’ll get us into the front door without much fanfare. Chances are, there’ll be different.. Acolytes? Initiates? Devotees?” She blinked, “..A multitude of others gathered, we'll blend right in.”

“You can dislike the Frosty Testicle all you want. Hack-and-Slashing my way through doesn’t sound like fun either.” She arched a brow ever-so-slightly. “Unless you have a better plan?”

Vahliri squinted a bit when the Wrean stated his own motivations for traveling to Tokmia. She.. Really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not - but the half-Annfyn supposed she hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with her reasoning either. She smirked a bit in the end. “Whatever you say, Cara Loft.”

With that, Vahliri continued to advance across the snowy plains - just beginning to make out the destination straight ahead. A multitude of Obsidian obelisks marked the path, until finally arriving at the temple in question. The structure was oblivious one that had survived the eons - carved entirely from stone and without any modern technology. It’s lower structure was domed, with column along the perimeter that seemed to hold up its colossal roof. A singular spire rose from its center, windowless and with a glowing brazier mounted at its apex. The flames licked and roared against the wind, burning with shades of blue and inky black. Framed by a few pairs of column and statues, a single door frame led into the temple. It’s entrance was sealed by a slab of stone, marked and carved with a multitude of runic symbols.

As the pair grew closer, they would finally begin to make out some signs of life amongst the snowbank. Tucked against nearby canyon walls, the faintest fires flickered from hutts and tents that had been pitched - likely from the ‘residents’ or pilgrims coming to make pledges to the cult. It was difficult to say, really.

If Nakoa had any alternative ideas, they’d need to be voiced quickly. The sun slowly began to set over the horizon, bathing the snowy fields of Tokmia in shades of amber and vermillion. The weather would only get colder, and the doors to the temple would only scrap open when the final rays of daylight had gone out.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa gave the other Sith and her general appearance a steady look. "So long as they're accepting well-off widows and lost mountaineers," was his dry reply, catching both Sith in the joke. All the same, he resumed walking along toward the temple, expecting some kind of grand fortress covered in turrets, guards, and maybe strange wards in the Force.

Mostly it just seemed really tall. Amber-gold eyes widened with sudden sharp focus as the two Sith approached. Obviously, the building itself was ancient, touched by ghosts long since departed the material coil. The runes looked vaguely familiar, but not such that Nakoa could actually read them. Most immediately interesting was the strangely colored brazier flame, which lacked any obvious signs of being a chemical burn rather than something more mysterious.

Neat! When they stopped, Nakoa fished out a thermos and sipped some strong-smelling spiced tea, fragrant steam wafting about his person. He perked up with fresh caffeine in his system and spent this time examining the structure and the many, many, many ways it was climbable and otherwise open to the elements in various places. "Your idea works to start," Nakoa stated after a long period of peaceful silence. He offered Vahliri some tea, which was made with different herbs, roots, black pepper, and fermented tea leaves.

Walking in the front door was more practical and funnier than climbing outside in the dark. Although, Nakoa didn't expect infiltration to go without trouble. Cults were often completely batshit. Unhelpfully, he didn't explain any of his thought processes out loud and had instead crouched down in the snow to feed crumbs to a native snow bird like this was the natural thing to do. Meanwhile, the sun dipped ever closer toward the horizon and the air grew cooler.

This lasted for about three minutes before he stood up, now with the bird nestled in his poncho hood pecking at crumbs, and strode off toward one of the occupied campfires without a word. He slipped his sunglasses and mask off his face to make it visible. Nakoa sat himself a reasonable distance from the others and struck up a conversation, starting with how freezing it was with a shiver and tucked-in body language for emphasis.

He was actually fine, but the act was convincing enough to lead up to questions about what drew these people to Tokmia, all spoken in a friendly tone. Aside from some tidbits adjacent to the cult, the subjects didn't seem all that focused, although the two Sith would learn many showed up in the hopes of solving some incurable disease or, for one, a long-lasting famine. By all appearances, much of it wasn't obviously helpful.

Except maybe the open spot by Nakoa for someone to not freeze in the cold.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri snorted a laugh in response to Nakoa’s little joke. Much to her enjoyment, the Wrean didn’t immediately come across as one of the many characterless, sadistic Sith she’d been assigned to work with - which made dragging her legs through the snow, slightly, less miserable. “Baby Wampa might be more apt in the latter case, I’d think.” The half-Annfyn flashed a playful grin, eyes lingering on him for a moment.

Her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as they approached the temple. She couldn’t deny that she was fascinated by the structure - from the vaguely-Sith looking runes, to the flames that burned shades of midnight blue. All the same, she couldn’t deny the very obvious reality that began creeping up in the back of her mind. “It’s always some spooky-shit.” She muttered flatly. Perhaps this was simply the half-Annfyn’s curse.

“Your approval warms me deeply,” Vahliri said back entirely sarcastic - albeit internally pleased that Nakoa was simply going along with her plan. The half-Annfyn was confident in her own plan, and didn’t really feel like arguing without a better alternative. That aside, she happily took some of the spiced tea - humming her enjoyment as she sipped the warm beverage. The combination of spices and the frigid temperatures made it an especially delicious drink, and vaguely reminded her of some of the spiced teas from her homeworld.

“Visit Indupar some time, if you’re ever wanting to try something new,” She gestured to the Wrean’s thermos of tea. With that, she silently sipped from her cup - watching as Nakoa turned into a Sisney Princess and started feeding the local birds, capturing up one of them in his poncho. Vahliri couldn’t help but squint at the pair, a complicated look on her expression for a few moments.

“Five credits, it shits on your poncho before flying off.” She said matter-of-factly. Though Nakoa didn’t say a word, the half-Annfyn followed him towards the camp - quietly taking her place at the empty seat beside him. With especially sensitive hearing, Vahliri listened to both his conversations and a few of those occurring around them - picking up on the different reasons and purposes for the pilgrims arrival. All of it screamed usual cult bullshit - desperate or brainwashed people, seeking miracles when all else failed.

After a while, Vahliri turned to a younger woman beside her. She offered the woman a bit of tea, which she happily took. “What brought you here, sister?” The half-Annfyn asked with feigned interest, playing up the cultist-to-be bit ever-so-slightly.

The woman sipped the tea, looking back at Vahliri. “I.. Am a former slave. I escaped from the Hutts during an uprising at one of their pleasure palaces.” She shifted a bit uncomfortably, “I hope to be able to free my daughter and the rest of my family from their bondage. I’ve prayed to Gods.. To the Force. Waited for the Jedi or Sith.” The woman bitterly shook her head. “But perhaps the Herdsman can help me.“

“My home was ravaged by the war,” Vahliri said, chewing on her bottom lip and averting her gaze to the ground, as if to make her lie more convincing. “Our people died, our fields burned.. But perhaps they can help us. Bring back what we lost - and allow us to rebuild.” The half-Annfyn let out a small sigh. “Do.. You know when they will come? How long must we wait?”

“Only until the sun sets over, sister.” The woman said excitedly. “It is a test.. The first of many, to see if our resolve will last the cold. Only then - when the chill has reached its worst, will the doors open and the trials begin.”

 

[Nakoa Singh]

"I've been to Indupar," he plainly stated. That's precisely where he'd picked up some clothes he'd worn to that party-turned-chaos for Commander Din's promotion. "They won't. Deal," Nakoa replied regarding the snowbird.

While the pilgrims spoke, the Wrean made all the right faces and conciliatory noises of awe, interest, and pity. Once Vahliri engaged the travelers he stopped asking questions of his own and just listened to the various people speaking. Instead, he offered people snacks and encouraged them to continue on as the sun sunk lower. Somehow he wasn't surprised the Hutts were involved in more than a few of the pilgrims' woes. Nakoa couldn't imagine why they didn't have any friends.

As night's starlit blanket covered the sky and smothered them all in its pervasive chill, the snowbird suddenly flew off along with a veritable swarm of other birds in the area. They gathered in clouds around the temple, squawking, chirping, and cawing in an ominous avian chorus. Without looking at Vahliri, Nakoa tapped her on the arm and held his hand out, palm up, for his five credits. She'd find his poncho was just fine.

The flame above the temple flared, casting the snowy terrain in an unnatural glow that mixed strangely with the full moon climbing through the sky. Figures in thick woolen cloaks and bovine skulls emerged from the temple, humming in low tones and shaking staves tied with delicate little bells. Shake shake, thump. Shake shake, thump. Ringing, ringing, ringing. It echoed off the stone and stifled against snow, lending it an eerie and mysterious sound.

Panflute played from a place deep inside. Pilgrims stood, awed and afraid at the "supernatural" display. Drawn to the strange lights like moths they wandered with varying degrees of eagerness to gather before the temple. Nakoa stood to join them.

"Harrowing and hallow are the journeys far, aspirants! They Who Guide the Herd hears your desires. Step forth with humility, and you may yet pass the threshold," shouted the two cultists in chorus, walking the line of pilgrims, eyes unseen within bone eyesockets. One by one they were led through the doorway into the temple's antechamber.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

For a few minutes more, Vahliri continued to listen to the pilgrims and their stories - nodding along or providing comfort whenever necessary. The half-Annfyn.. Wasn’t genuinely that interested in their tragedies and sob-story. All the same, they all did provide some bits and pieces of information about the cult. Vahliri knew less about the group than she wanted to admit, and anything from the prospective members was something to go off of. Her amber eyes promptly flicked over when Nakoa’s little buddy proceeded to fly off - joining with the other avians and their ominous cries. The half-Annfyn glanced over to the waiting and smug Wrean, her eyes rolling so hard it was a wonder they didn’t spin out of her skull. Reaching into her pocket, Vahliri pulled out five whole credits and tossed them to Nakoa. “For the snack fund,” She grumbled.

It wasn’t long before the cultists began to stir from within the temple - music echoing and voices booming across the snow-covered plains. The half-Annfyn couldn’t help but squint at their animal-skull masks, ominous words that beckoned them towards the stone structure ahead. If there were any reservations to the plan thus far, the time to voice them was officially over.

The flocks of people narrowed towards the doors, stepping out of the snow and into the temple for the very first time. At once, Vahliri and Nakoa would be able to feel the shift in temperature - frigid cold replaced with balmy, pleasant warmth. The walls were lit with blue-flamed torches that painted the entire chamber in gues of azure, reflecting off the bone masks of the faithful and rippling off of three, bottomless pools of what appeared to be water, just up ahead.

“Come forth, aspirants - for your journey may properly begin.” At his words, a handful of faithful began to dip bowls into the pools of water - drawing a few swallows full of liquid. The bowls were promptly handed off to pilgrims. “Generous is He Who Guides The Herd - to grand unto us the Waters of Life. Drink deep, and allow his gift to wash away the pains and sorrows that you carry. Drink deep, and open your mind to receive his word.”

The bowls were soon handed to Nako and Vahliri to drink their share. Upon closer inspection, Nakoa would likely be able to pick up the scent of strong and pungent herbs - alluding to some kind of hallucinogenic concoction. While they certainly had the option not to drink, that didn’t come without its own risks. The eyes of the faithful were firmly upon the both of them, and they risked early exposure by not following the process.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

A smirk was the Wrean's initial reply as the thrown credits sailed past his hand and bounced off his poncho, sliding down into his lap. They were tucked away into a belt pouch somewhere. "A worthy cause." His attention remained on the temple until the moment it buzzed to life.

Inside it was warm from torches on every wall, yet still, a chill remained on a spiritual level. Amber-gold eyes glanced around this new space with little expression to show beyond some small eyebrow movements that showed interest in a particular pillar or other odd detail. It wasn't until the "Waters of Life" were revealed that he paid much direct attention to the people speaking. His head tilted slightly toward the three pools, nostrils subtly flaring as he inhaled the surrounding scents.

The gesture was repeated as he was handed a bowl. Nakoa was only able to hide his grimace while his mask covered his face. He lowered it and removed his glacier glasses, hooking their arm around the collar of his poncho, and brought the herbaceous concoction to his lips. Nakoa from with all the appropriate reverence expected of a religious ritual. Although it wasn't clear what it actually did, like others who drank it before him, quickly appeared physically off-balance and out of focus.

"Hallowed is They Who Guides the Herd, and wise is Their word! Listen well, that their wisdom might sweep aside your doubt and your fear." Being Force users, Nakoa and Vahliri might notice someone or something's mental influence permeating the room alongside the sound of panflutes, both originating from somewhere out of sight. It was neither targeted nor observant, but an attempt to steer a crowd in an emotional direction they wanted concealed with the use of hallucinogenics. As the drugs took hold of those who drank, smaller groups of people would be guided away to different chambers for the next phase.

Which was something akin to a sermon, complete with panflute and a masked man gesticulating energetically as they spoke. Nakoa's eyes were unfocused and truthfully he caught very little of it, except for one snippet about 'proving faith' that involved ritual cleansing, oils, and something to do with hair.

@Altaris