Arriving in Darkness [The Primeval]

[Catalys Maijora]

The Primeval Fleet was stationed just above the grim world of Gulamendis, an epicenter of death within the galaxy and ruled by corrupted Sephi. In the heart of these warships was the very flagship of their efforts, the personal warship of Anja Aj'Rou; Order's End.

Catalys quickly exited his ship which had just landed aboard Order's End. Several armoured individuals of varying yet similar shape made way to the sloped ramp that entered the bowels of his light transport. Aboard were two prisoners -- captives of his latest mission -- and the new additions to Salacious Vile's prison. The starship was surprisingly clean inside, sleek walls shined as overhead lights reflected off of the laminate floors. In the very bowels of the ship rests an even more pristine laboratory, the refurbished medical ward that is now the housing of all indoctrination efforts. Whether or not the prisoners knew what was coming they soon would get a startling understanding of what would begin. Far above that on the ship's bridge was the very individual who ordered the capture of talented beings to fuel the ongoing search for their Gods. Anja Aj'Rou, Host Lord and Harbinger of the Gods. It was her vision that sent the Agents deep into the galaxy.

If anything could go wrong for these two forlorn prisoners it has probably already happened. The armoured followers brought them out of Stasis, a concoction of drugs and paralysis for easy transport. The two would likely begin to feel sick with nausea, headaches, and of course come down with confusion. Only the strong willed could remember what happened in striking detail. Even then there wasn't much use dwelling on recent events; they were now in the worst place possible. The heart of their very enemy, those who took them from their home world across the galaxy. Whatever there was left to think about it would be their own survival -- their escape.

Following close behind, Catalys watched as they were dragged down the hallways and into a central chamber; a flashy doorway opened into a prison-like structure that was obviously retrofitted within the hull. Far back was throne-like construct made of scraps and engorged with precious metals into a finished design that was befitting for royalty of a most cruel sort. The two were let go by their captives, harshly even, and onto the cold metallic surface. Unlike the rest of the ship the lighting was quite soft. In the corner a young Umbaran boy wore a robe marked by the bleeding sun across the chest. He watched the two before heading out behind the guards.

Chained by arm and leg they were left there, alone, near the throne chair was a closed door; shadowed by the dim lights.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"] [member="Salacious Vile"]

 

[Keira Priest]

A string of curses was the first thing to escape Keira's mouth upon her slow, uncomfortable awakening from whatever drug-induced sleep she had been in, and the same colorful expletives and insults were still on her mind when the pair, the other being [member="Jorda Ulluto"], were left alone in the room, though not unrestrained, much to her disappointment. She could, however, take some small comfort in the fact that their captors were either worried about what the two were capable of, or didn't want to have to deal with an irate rogue and her Zeltron counterpart. But whichever of the two it was, she still wasn't in any way happy about her current predicament, and nothing could change that.

It had seemed like such an innocent thing at first, back on Antecedent. Prevent whatever robbery of sorts was currently occurring in the apartments and maybe return to the casino to celebrate just surviving. But instead, her captor had led her on a wild bantha chase through the establishment and into the docking bay, where the details became fuzzy. Either way, whatever happened, she had ended up here, on some strange ship in a section of the galaxy that wasn't familiar to her, with people she didn't know the least thing about. Oh, and she was chained hand and foot. That didn't improve her already irritated outlook on things at all.

Finally she cast a look around the room they'd been left in to await whomever it was that attended to the captives on this vessel. There was nothing of note, save for the nearby throne that seemed to have been all but thrown together from any nearby scrap. It didn't look like a comfortable seat, but then again, she supposed that was the intention. Intimidation was a common tactic, and not one she was a stranger to. But something told her this experience would be different than what she had in mind.

Now she looked to her fellow captive, attempting a small smile that wound up looking more like a grimace courtesy of the headache she was currently nursing. Whatever drug or other substances they had used to knock them unconscious had certainly done their job, and done it well. "You okay?" Considering their current situation it was probably an all but ridiculous question, but one she posed anyway. Because, whatever was in store for them, she had a feeling that this would be the last chance they'd have to reconvene before it all began. What exactly 'it' was, she wasn't sure of yet. But it wouldn't be pretty.

[member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Salacious Vile"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Zeltrons were notoriously skilled at avoiding hangovers, so to Jorda's annoyance, not only did she have a blinding headache, but as she awoke from what seemed to be a drug-induced haze, she discovered that she had no clue where she was, which was itself a terrifying feeling. A cold wave of nausea crept through her body as she unconsciously tried to move. Bad idea, Jorda. It was then that she noticed the chains around her wrists and ankles, and the situation went from bad to worse in that instant.

The Zeltron blinked and willed her eyes to focus on her surroundings. She seemed to be in some sort of prison cell along with another, a young woman, bound by chains, asking her if she was ok. She spoke up, her voice throaty and ragged. "Let's put it this way, the last time I had a hangover this bad, at least the party had been worth it." She smirked at the woman. Humor probably wasn't appropriate here, but it was Jorda's defense mechanism. The other option was to let abject terror take a hold of her and she wasn't about to choose that.

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Boethiah]

As the two spoke in chains the far door nearest to the Throne opened slowly with a loud hiss. Compressed air escaped a crude tubing system that released the old blast door's lock. From it two unrecognized individuals emerged; one wearing dark armour and holding a large blaster carbine and the other wearing a rugged uniform. These two beings stood on either side of the doorway where a third more identifiable person stepped forward; a seemingly young Umbaran woman with unusually human complexion and long hair. The only thing Umbaran about her was the fact she had those same piercing eyes the race commonly adorned.

The Umbaran woman walked quietly over to the Throne, taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair but gave the impression that she just sat down into a pile of pillows; even if she was sitting firmly. She wore a simple armour comprising of light metal that covered her chest and shoulders, wrists and legs, and adorned with a ceremonial skirt that wouldn't be missed from any traditional robe but had slits to allow agility. The woman finally relaxed in the confident throne chair. Her two escorts saw themselves out, the blast door remained open.

"Two unworthy are before me.", her lips opened softly with each word and released a gentle yet monotone expression. "You should be quite glad that I requested you to stand before me, you're in the presence of righteous power.", she continued with a fervorous interests, crossing her legs in-between words. The Umbaran seemed to believe everything she said with divine grace, as if each word was the echo of a greater power and her voice its vessel. For the force sensitive, she would resonate a twisted and growing darkness that lacked empathy and gave way to ardent motives.

Her hands clasped together, each finger interlocking aside its opposite just under under chin and along her chest as she leaned back eagerly.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

As a woman entered with two armored guards she took a seat on the jagged-looking throne. Jorda slowly sat up and inspected the new arrival, her hazel eyes heavy-lidded. No doubt by her ceremonial dress and her speech, their captor was some sort of noblewoman, but having spent most of her time around criminals and thieves, Jorda wasn't able to place the exact fiefdom. The woman's skin was pallid with tinges of sickly blue undertones like that of an Umbaran.

Jorda reached out with her species telekinesis to sense the noblewoman's emotions and came away with an almost zealous malice. The woman hadn't arrived to bargain with them and there was no hint of mercy in her aura.

The Zeltron glanced at Keira. From the bits and pieces that emerged from her memory, she seemed to recall that her fellow captive had Force powers. Out of the two, the Force user would be the one better prepared should the situation go downhill since the Zeltron only had her wits. With the effects of the drug slowly dissipating, her mind and tongue weren't the sharpest at the moment. Still the jaded Zeltron narrowed her eyes and managed a response, ratcheting up the hostility a few notches.

"Oh, did you notice that I'm fething overjoyed? I feel like I've just won the Miss Galaxy Pageant. But pardon me if I don't jump at making an acceptance speech. It's a bit hard to be eloquent when you can barely remember your own name."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

A number of insults came to mind after the woman who now sat on the throne had spoken, each more colorful than the last, as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position made uncomfortable by the chains. But for a few moments Keira remained uneasily silent, simply watching her, studying the aura she emanated with the Force, vaguely unsurprised at the cloying darkness that met her senses. From what little she could remember of their encounter with the man on Antecedent, his presence had been similarly cold and unforgiving, though not so much as this. Either she was before a Sith, or someone so near one it made no difference. Rarely did her instinct lie.

Jorda's comment earned a small smile from her, gone as quickly as it came as she further studied the new arrival, having noticed with an uneasy feeling that the blast doors she'd entered through remained open. That foretold of another entering, and if this was any hint at what was to come, then it wouldn't bode well for either of them. "Righteous power? That's a nice way to put it. I had something else in mind, myself." Her own comments helped to keep her relaxed to a degree, otherwise she would have been less seemingly fearless. It was her own sort of defense mechanism.

Once more she attempted to adjust her position, tugging experimentally at the chains that bound her wrists both with her own strength and the Force, frowning slightly as they hardly gave under either. Though it was true she was only gently probing, she should have felt something move, at the very least under the ethereal tendrils. That wasn't the first strange thing she had noticed about the entirety of it all, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last, if this was any indicator.

"Mind telling us who you are, or are we just supposed to assume you're all high and mighty?"

[member="Jorda Ulluto"], [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The sarcastic attitudes portrayed by each came at an unpleasant surprise. Surely she's witnessed aggressive captives before but few if any have stood their ground against her words; that would change in time, she thought to herself.

The Umbaran readjusted in her seat, the metal of her armour squeaked lightly in a chaffing motion against the metal of the throne producing an eerily uncomfortable sound. There was somewhat of a dramatic pause about the way she was acting, it was fairly obvious that she would speak but her words relented for the moment. The blast door still remained open. The corridor behind it was even darker than the softly lit room, perhaps for those who knew the Umbaran were sometimes sensitive to light without proper covering. Despite potential thoughts as to why a somewhat damp draft came through it and filled the air with heavy yet cold humidity; as if there was another presence in the room.

Finally the young rogue's question would be answered, "I'm someone you will happily get to know." These words weren't playful by any means nor entirely threatening but it was clear she was humoring their sarcasm earlier with her own darker sense of it.

She glanced to the blast door at her side briefly before fixating her gaze on the two of them.

"The Gods have given you two paths each. The Rite of Service or the Rite of Pain." , she spoke this time much like she did earlier, eyeing in particular the rogue who kept moving the chains. They were made of titanium, one of the most valued industrial metals found on their world, used in just about anything from weapons to starships, and even tools. By this point she awaited an answer, that much was clear.

Anja Aj'Rou kept her attention, awaiting the next words to escape their mouths.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Once she felt eyes on her Keira stopped fidgeting with the chains, looking up to slowly meet the gaze of her captor. If one looked closely enough there was a glint of malice in her eyes, but for the most part it was shadowed over by disdain. But regardless of what emotion might have been perceived, it was glaringly obvious that she held no respect for the woman in front of her. "I believe I've already had enough of you already, and it's only been, what, five minutes? I'd rather be done with everything and never have to set eyes on you again, if that's alright with you." Something told her she was crossing a line with these words, but if she was already that far gone then there was no point in not continuing.

The Gods. That was something new. As far as she'd known, there had been no mention of any religious sects anywhere in the galaxy, least of all any as seemingly militant as this. If there had been any threat, the Ravens would have surely heard of it. Apparently she was wrong. "So, wait a second..." She readjusted her position so she could sit marginally more comfortably, feigning interest in anything the seemingly Umbaran woman had to say. "You guys are a bunch of religious fanatics? Well, I can tell you already that this isn't a way to gain followers."

While she had never been one for any kind of religion herself, she had no problem with those who were, as long as they were respectful in their beliefs and kept them to themselves, for the most part. This, by any standards, was something entirely unacceptable, though that didn't even begin to encompass the entirety of it. And the newly known fact just served to bring more irritance into it. That just meant she would have to tread even more carefully, because those who were so deep in their religious fervor rarely saw past their narrow frame of mind.

Another faint frown found her lips as another glance was cast in the direction of the blast door, and she could vaguely sense something out of place, but she wasn't quite sure what.

"Two paths, is it? I have a better idea. You let me out of these chains so we can see just what I'm capable of without having to be restrained." There was a brief pause, and she knew she'd regret her next words just as soon as she spoke them. "Unless, of course, you're afraid of what it is I can do."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

As their voices echoed through the chamber, Jorda simply listened. Their captor spoke of Gods, and she wondered with a shiver if the two women were about to be sacrificed to a rancor, but a rancor would be too large to fit through the door next to the woman on the throne so there was no use entertaining that morbid thought. Grimly the realization dawned on the Zeltron. She was so very wrong about her capture being the handiwork of Dasha the Hutt, and, inconceivably, at that moment she almost wished it were. As least Dasha would mercifully put a bullet in her brain. Whatever was about to happen in this chamber was going to be slow, nasty, and bloody.

Her hands balling into fists, Jorda finally shook enough of her stupor to feel a flash of anger surge up inside her. She growled at the pale woman on the throne. "You really don't know who you're messing with do you? The Red Ravens hold a massive amount of reach and influence from the Inner Rim to the Fringe. They will find us and when they do, they will utterly destroy you."

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja listened intently at the final words that came from the Zeltron's lips; nearly ignoring the rogue save for stare whenever she spoke.

"I'm rather intrigued, then. How many would die before they gave up on you? I'm quite impressed that they'd be so willing to die for one.", she had no idea whom or what these Red Ravens were but nonetheless she spoke as if she was prepared for anything. Rather she believed it was only a matter of time before she would find a suitable planet to conquer and burn it to the core. So hearing such a threat come from one person before her was brushed off quite easily. Afterall, one cannot gain a scope of what they do not see nor understand. That went for all of them.

"Once more. In which path do you walk?", she was clearly in no mood to discuss any further. Her curiosity was sated, these were the two outsiders she's ever spoken two since the meeting between her and the High King of Gulamendis. Her tongue moved slowly behind her lips and along the roof of her mouth as she awaited the final answer from both of them.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Not one. Two. We're both Ravens." And those would be the final words she spoke on that subject, deciding not to mention the fact that her older brother was one of the heads of the organization. Any personal information such as that would be used against her, and the last thing she needed was more Ravens, whether they were family or simply friend, falling into the clutches of whoever it was this woman worked for, if it was anyone. There was an aura of command about her that was impressive, however much Keira wanted nothing more than to escape her chains and be done with her that very moment, she had to admit that much.

Neither of the paths that had been offered sounded terribly beneficial to her, and so it was that she remained silent at the question, choosing unanswer as her own form of defiance. Whichever of the two they chose she had a feeling that things wouldn't end any better for either of them. Regardless, something would step through the still open door, and when it did that would be the sign that things had taken a turn for the worst. The individual hadn't even revealed themselves, and yet she knew they would be a person no one wanted to antagonize. Though her stubborn attitude often won out over common sense.

Casting a sideways glance at [member="Jorda Ulluto"] she gave one final tug at the chains that bound her before continuing to study the one who sat the throne, more curiously now than anything. Though she seemed one capable of a number of cruelties herself, it seemed she was more the type to order them done than actually sit around and wait for things to commence while she bore witness. That was just as well. Her pious talk wasn't the most refreshing thing to wake up to anyhow.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Jorda foolishly allowed herself an ounce of hope when Keira mentioned that she herself was also a member of the Red Ravens. Even better would be if the rogue was a higher rank than the Zeltron because that could mean they'd have the bigger guns involved in their rescue. If they'd left enough of a trace to be found, and the Zeltron woman thought that was a pretty big "if."

At their captor's incessant question, Jorda finally just cracked a smirk. "Is there a path that involves generous amounts of drugs and alcohol? Because if not, I'm not interested." She frowned. The line had sounded funnier in her head.

Jorda knew that the amount of humor she was exhibiting was probably disproportionate to severity of their situation, but the Zeltron had her own ways of dealing with horrific events and one way was to treat the whole thing like a game. She raised her eyebrows defiantly at her captor. There was no way she was going to let anyone see her broken, much less this witch.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The defiant gestures of each prisoner had evaporated the remainder of Anja's patience for the two of them. She wasn't visibly upset or enraged by all means but it was clear that her gesture, if not her aura, had changed from poised to apathetic in a near instance.

She leaned forward in her throne until her back was just about at a 90 degree angle, her chin leaning forward just a bit more than that. "No matter. You will be broken, your very identity is naught. The path for both of you is not deserving of the rites.", she spat out each word with an almost cruel demeanor, more described as tenacious.

As soon as her voice cleared she let out a light sarcastic sigh, leaning back in her chair for a moment of silence only to be then broken...

"Vile!"

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Salacious Vile"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Zickery]

And from out behind the throne, a tall, darkly adorned Umbaran stepped forwards. Each of his footsteps clanked loudly as he stepped forwards, his dark, metallic armour glimmering faintly in the dim light. He blinked slowly, before turning, taking in the appearance of the two newcomers. The long, twisted tribal scarring and tattoos across his gaunt face almost made him look skeletal as he approached, and his arms never strayed far from the holster and the sheathe at his side. To those aware of the force, he would clearly give off the signs of being attuned, his body reeking of the seething sadism and ferocity that could only accompany the darkside. Steadily, he traversed the side of the throne, going to step in front of Anja. He briefly glanced back towards the two captives, smirking. His tongue briefly snaked out from between his dark, pale lips, viper-like. He wet his lips in anticipation, and he turned towards Anja, dropping to a kneel. He bent further, planting his forehead firmly against his knee, only his eyes gazing upwards, ever alert, darting, dashing. With a barely noticable twitch of the shoulder accompanying it, his left arm raised upwards, and his fingers groped at the dark, silvery collar around his neck. He pressed down tightly on a single, bright red button, and he held it down as he began to speak, his voice dripping with arrogance and assurance in equal abundance. Yet alongside those emotions, there was one other, one stronger. Devotion.

"Your orders, master?"

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The sudden appearance of the other Umbaran didn't necessarily surprise her, though his aura and scarred countenance left something to be desired, certainly. This one was another dark sider as well, but his presence was more potent, sadistic even, and it spoke of a further attunement to the energy field than the one he knelt before. They might not have been Sith, but the resemblance was close enough that Keira didn't deem to pick and choose. If they had been waiting for the person that would determine their fate in all of this, he was the final player. And if how he appeared was any indicator, this would not bode well for either of them.

Still she didn't speak, remaining still and silent, her gaze still steadily on the woman, though it strayed to the Umbaran knelt in front of her every few moments, something about his simply kneeling there unnerving to her. He was definitely more volatile, unpredictable, wanton. And she didn't like it one bit, doubly so with her being restrained.

[member="Salacious Vile"], [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Finally the mystery guest made his appearance, and when he did, Jorda felt her blood run cold, her breath hitching in her throat. It wasn't so much the sight of the man as his bestial aura. It had a deep and sinister depravity to it, the likes of which she'd never felt before even in the most hardened of criminals she'd regularly dealt with. She glanced to Keira who was unreadable. If the human rogue were as terrified as Jorda herself, she had yet to let it show.

Although every cell in her body wanted to her to hide from his gaze, the Zeltron felt herself unable to turn away from the vicious being whose eyes darted around the room like a reptile. And in a last ditch effort not to simply stand there and be helpless, Jorda released some pheromones in the air in the hopes of placating the creature or his master. Although her charm would be potent to those with weaker minds and even weaker libidos, she knew the effort was probably futile, but she had no other cards to play unless either one of them got close enough for her to scratch their eyes out.

Jorda smirked to herself as a ridiculous thought passed through her brain. The Zeltron felt upon staring at the new arrival, that she'd much prefer a rancor after all.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Salacious Vile"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The hint of pheromones went unnoticed except when Anja shuddered slightly as if her body reacted on its own; feeling an emotional connection with something invisible and unfelt before. From those who could see she would seem more confused than anything but only momentarily. Regaining composure -- as if nothing happened -- Anja graced the submissive behavior of her knelt servant. The Umbaran male she referred to simply as "Vile" was likely more repulsive in aura and physical demeanor than she ever was. With a flick of her wrist, her hand gestured to Vile in an allowance for him to rise and act on his own motive.

"These two who stand before you are to be broken, bring them before Sargon and do not spoil them.", she ordered Vile with swift speech that almost slurred together in decisive resonance. Taking a stand, Anja double glanced at her prisoners before turning her attention to Vile.

"You know what must be done.", her final words were almost a whisper, a steady song that deluded itself from the bottom of her throat. With the orders given she began to walk slowly through the darkness behind the blast door, it closing slowly behind her in the same manner as it opened.

 

[Zickery]

Salacious Vile twitched, involuntarily spasming as his teeth bared in a snarl. His hand moved to his sheathe of its own accord as the strange sensation passed through his mortal frame, briefly overtaking him, and then it was gone. He squinted for a moment, glancing to and fro, his eyes wild with anger, as he held the hilt of the dagger at his side in a deathgrip. He shuddered briefly, exhaling in a raspy breath, before muttering in a quiet whisper under his breath. He paused, glancing upwards, brought back from his sudden rage by Anja's words. He nodded slowly, squinting as he glanced backwards and forwards, his expression as dark and stormy as his mood. He rose upwards from his kneel, and he turned towards them, beckoning the two nearby guards forwards. Leaning forwards, he breathed raspily in the nearest man's ear, whispering a mixture of obscenities and instructions.

"Yes... take... facility... isolation room... use the autoboarder to break... do not hesitate to break limbs..."

The instructions whispered are brief, and most of them are quiet, almost inaudible, but several of them would be easy to pick up. The two guardsmen would move forwards, going to attempt to raise them up and drag them away to the nearest passageway. Assuming they were able to, Vile would follow in their footsteps, muttering quietly to himself as he followed, his dark eyes darting with barely restrained anger, his face contorted into a scowl.

 

[Keira Priest]

For the moment Keira had resigned to their current situation, offering little resistance when the guardsmen went to move her, allowing them to drag her across the floor. But in reality, she had hardly submitted to whatever fate awaited the two of them, instead deciding simply to wait for an opening to present itself, if it ever did. Should such a time arise, she would be ready. And unless the chains around her wrists or ankles prevented any sort of Force tricks, she should be ready and able when the time came. The planning kept her relatively docile as well, but only for as long as was necessary. If the Ravens didn't arrive first, she intended to make it as difficult as possible for the man until they did.

But, for all her brave thoughts, she was all petrified with fear at the aura the man gave off, his presence a constant wavering in what little confidence she had left in their situation. The rogue wasn't one to let these true feelings show, so she did her best to mask them with snarky comments and steady looks, all the while having to rely on the Force to calm her more than she would ever admit to anyone, least of all their new warden.

As best as she could without drawing any undue attention to herself she attempted to cast a glance backwards at their newest captor, though hardly a turn of her head accompanied it. He seemed less than mentally stable, at least to her, but with the dark aura he gave off, she really hadn't expected anything less. Then again, the ones who weren't aware of or didn't care that they were hurting others were always the most dangerous, and the ones to watch out for. If this was his good side, then she decided right then and there that this was one she would tread carefully with, while still trying to goad him into either letting his guard down or making a move that she could turn in her favor, whether he wished to do so or not.

Despite these thoughts she found herself stretching out with the Force once more, to get a feel for what other beings were either trapped in this ship with them or worked with the Umbaran woman and whomever this man was to her. An apprentice most like, or something akin to a slave. The feedback she received from doing so was unsettling, and she made a note to be restrained with doing so again. Instead she directed the tendrils to another task, this one marginally more simple, though just as dangerous. With a subtle, almost unnoticeable twitch of her fingers, she reached out to attempt to trip the Umbaran that followed them up. It might not have been the wisest thing to provoke him, but she wanted him aware that she would and could fight back.

[member="Salacious Vile"], [member="Jorda Ulluto"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Just as she thought, Jorda's phermones didn't seem do much but momentarily confound the Umbaran woman if that. They had no effect whatsoever on the surrounding men, including the creature their captor had called Vile. Such was the nature of zealotry, she thought grimly. These people clearly were more excited by the lust for sating their dark gods than any fleshly pursuits.

Jorda couldn't help but hear bits and pieces of Vile's orders. The auto-whatever didn't have a nice ring to it at all, and Jorda didn't much want her limbs broken either. She vaguely wondered to what end all of this was being done. But did it really matter? After all, this was likely just how these folks got their jollies.

She decided that like Keira she wouldn't struggle as she was moved to the other room by the steely guards who performed their task with as much excitement as watching paint dry. With one raised eyebrow, she turned her face to Keira with a microexpression that searched the other woman's eyes for a possible plan.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Salacious Vile"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]