Golden plains

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

More obedient than usual, Kiskla tightened responsively to Marcello's change of command. The wind whipped against them, no longer the premiere ally, but not unusually, Marcello had it under control. She felt the rush calm with his conduction, before they dropped softly and safely to the ground once more.

Ocean hued eyes looked beyond his cradle and where they had come from. The lorquals and Shanh were struggling still-- but consumed with their own dilemmas. The chickens had safely crossed the road.

"I've been waiting for you to sweep me off my feet." The blonde commented finally, wrinkling her nose in good humour. That was a neat trick indeed, especially for one who had picked up on The Force so late in his lifetime (comparatively speaking). Shows that hard work could indeed pay off. It wasn't for want to get moving again that made her step back, but instead the sound of curious murmurings.

Her attention snapped to a quartet of furry spectators-- armed with crude melee weaponry. Their brown and grey bodies were clambering over the ridge to the Jedi's left. My my, this was an exciting planet. Instinctively, Kiskla tensed and begun her silent assessment of the situation -- tapping into her empathetic resources (limited though they were). The newcomers were not filled with aggression as the spears would imply, but rather awestruck wonder. The Ansonian-descendants had their eyes trained on the pair, constantly murmuring amongst themselves. They must be a hunting party, Kiskla assumed based on their composure and assets-- likely for lorquals considering they were woefully underprepared for shanh.

The closer they drew (within a handful of moments), the clearer their utterances became. No longer in an undertone did they speak, and Kiskla could determine what it was they were saying --- though it's meaning held little value. She also noticed the Gwurran's were solely focused on one of them, not the pair together. Simply ogling at [member="Marcello Matteo"] while they whispered pidgin Ansion -- but the constant title of 'Miywondl' graced their traditional tongues.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello rolled his eyes with an easy smile at [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s comment. By the time she'd found her feet and stepped away, he'd felt the approaching presences as well. His glacier-blue eyes turned in the same direction as Kiskla's. For the moment, he kept his weapon where it was, eyes darting around to locate a suitable area of cover. There, of course, was none.

Eventually, Marcello's attention returned to the approaching creatures, also noting they seemed...non-threatening for the moment. A few more seconds of observation confirmed that they most certainly were focusing their attentions on him. He kept hearing a specific word repeated over and over again, but he didn't know what it meant. That being said...he could recognize reverent behavior when he saw it. "This is about to be awesome..."

Hopefully he wasn't on the verge of being sacrificed to release his eternal spirit from its mortal shell.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Within seconds of what could have meant the plunge of their spears into the Jedi’s bellies, the furry indigenous dropped to their knees and rested their spears by their sides. Their arms stretched in front of them, their faces turned to the ground.

“Miywondl!” They continued, their breathy whispers now becoming much louder, and more akin to a chant. Even though there were only four of them, the volume was so impressive it caused Kiskla to glance toward the Shanh. Still preoccupied. “Miywondl. Miywondl. Miywondl.” They continued, the volume decreasing again.

Unbeknownst to the Jedi, Miywondl was the Gwurran’s god — though they’d never seen it in full representation. From [member="Marcello Matteo"]’s observed machinations with the wind, they’d categorized him as Miywondl, The god of Wind, himself.

Slowly, one snout lifted and the elder of the quartet stood from his knees.

“Great Miywondl.” He announced, keeping his eyes from meeting Marcello’s for fear of almightiness’ retribution being reaped like fiery coals on his head. His tail flicked nervously behind him while he continued; “Haff the godz comes to puneesh uz?” Pause. “Or blezz uz.”

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Glacier-blue eyes gazed intently at the furry creatures. They were certainly a curiosity, but it did not take a genius to decipher what was occurring. In the interest of time, the Jedi Master simply...played along. "That remains to be seen." Marcello was perfectly well aware that the creatures probably did not understand him...at least not completely. He did what he could to be clear, giving the creature that had spoken a mental image of that which they sought...or at least an image of a generic city.

Outstretching his left hand, he made a show of motioning to the creature. It was unnecessary for the action of planting images in the mind, but it would help the others to...understand. "There. Take me." For the time being, Marcello did not seem to acknowledge [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s presence. No doubt her arrival with them would be a curiosity to the creatures, and surely they would not dare to so much as touch that which Miywondl had brought with him.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

They of course, couldn’t be much bothered with the maid that stood by their great god’s side. Accepting the idea that the god of wind would do petty activities for himself was beyond the realm of possibility.

In the moment that the Gwurran's question was neither confirmed nor denied, he looked panicked. Simultaneously, Kiskla’s brow quirked almost accusingly while [member="Marcello Matteo"] stretched out his arm. Oh my, what an arm.

“Uf Courz, uf courz,” the creature nodded, waving his arms indicatively to his brethren for them to rise. The did so, scrambling slightly. “To the tentz we wills go. The Gwurranz muzt zee you and feedz you before you go.

Come wiv uz, O Miwindyl.” They turned, and their tails swung in unison. It was kind of cute — and considering there weren’t many alternatives, Kiskla fell into step in following. They thought Marcello some sort of deity, and it was a good enough ruse to prevent a skirmish. Plus, if they brought them to ‘the tentz’ which was likely their sort of civilization, there could be a more viable method of transport there.

“To be clear,” Kiskla murmured, not sure if she, the perceived peasant most likely, was allowed to speak “-When I say ‘Oh my god’ — I’m not referring to you.” A lewd reference, but clarity was demanded.

**

The walk wasn't so bad. And the village was more civilized than mere tents. They were more akin to mud huts, with some stones around the bases.

Halfway there, one of the Gwurrans had run ahead to alert the village of their presence. When they arrived, there was a healthy number of observers doing obeisance.

"Oh for kark's sake." Kiskla muttered, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as a child darted between her legs and threw itself at Marcello's heels. Kiskla had never been a religious person, aside from what whole force gig-- but she wasn't ritualistic about it. Moreso curious.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello didn't give the creatures much of a response when they declared the need to parade him around their village before showing him that which he'd asked for. However, their presumption was met with merely a flat, unimpressed stare. Dependent upon how devout they were, they would no doubt...adopt an air of expedience in their adorations.

It was [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s comment that brought a brief, thin smile to his lips. Glacier-blue eyes fell upon her own cerulean gaze before drifting down the length of her body and settling back on her eyes with a mischievous expression. "No of course not, merely the thing that momentarily turns an agnostic...extremely religious." Marcello's mischievous expression transitioned into an outright smile of amusement for but a brief moment before he shifted his gaze back to the direction they were walking.

When they entered the town, Marcello spoke in a deep tone to the leader. "Your speed will receive a blessing, steward." Whether he was completely understood or not was...a mystery.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla couldn't help but roll blues at the proceedings. Likely, if she had been in Marcello's shoes the reactions would have been different. But to see them so sloppily at his feet was mildly irritating -- perhaps it was some innate only child reaction, where she didn't like sharing. The root though, was largely unknown and she was managing to keep composed on the grand scale of things.

An older Gwurran stepped out from a hut. His fur was lined with silver, and he leaned on a tall, gnarled branch for support as he hobbled toward the demi-god. It was very cliché, yet somehow humbling.

"You're going to the city." Spoke the elder, his galactic basic more finessed than the hunter who had brought them to the village. His dark eyes didn't dare challenge [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s, and he kept them pointed to the ground while many spectators leaned in to hear what they could. "And the hunters brought you here. My deepest apologies, Miywondl."

Kiskla swatted away a bushy tail that had been flicking her for the transaction. The owner sidled away slightly--curling her tail in toward her without much notice that she'd been a nuisance.

"If it's not too much, great one, we ask that you not use your winds to navigate to Cuipernam." He cringed, as if the blonde deity would strike him for offence. "There have been terrorizing gangmen from the capital. They followed my daughter home, and we are still repairing." At this, the owner of the tail Kiskla had swatted stepped forward, nostrils flared at the recollection.

She spoke refined basic, like her presumed father:
"I stop in the capital for our village, you see. For supplies the plains don't provide us with -- no offence, sovereign. Some brutes from the unity council followed me out here and....a.."

The girl's story was suffocated by her father's unwant to hear the tale again. For it caused pain right to his bones -- such brutality on an innocent village and his offspring. Disgusting. "I fear your winds will take down that which we've worked hard to re-establish.

Can we offer you another method of travel? We have livestock and some machines."

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello was past the point of really paying any mind to [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s reactions. Though...that was because they amused him and for the time being, he was attempting to be a serious deity. Deities were serious right? Whatever...this one was.

As the village elder approached and began speaking to Marcello in rather articulate basic, the Jedi Master's glacier-blue gaze focused downward. The elder's comments about the capital at least confirmed the suspicions of the two Jedi. For a moment, Marcello's gaze began to divert to Kiskla but stopped halfway at the mention of something happening to a daughter.

When the elder's daughter stepped forward and began to recount her story only to be admonished by her father, Marcello felt a fire spark deep within the recesses of his otherwise continuously serene soul. While the former Rogue knew anger and had dealt with it in many various instances, he generally managed to discharge his duties and conduct himself in spite of such. Did he push his emotions aside? No, not anymore - they were always present, he just acted in the presence of reality. The reality being that his emotions were precisely that, his. They would never again control him.

Mention of livestock and machines forced Marcello to turn his gaze from the daughter to her father. "Machines," was the quick retort. Perhaps a touch...too quick. "My kin would not take kindly to using that which they hold dominion over to travel." Surely there was some deity that controlled the beasts, no? Even if there wasn't, the furballs surely weren't going to question Miywondl. "Rest assured. Those that do not belong in the capital and shame the Gods with their actions will meet swift justice. I must leave now."

Oh, right. Kiskla.

Motioning off to the side, Marcello included her. "The woman must accompany me."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

The elder nodded, resting both hands on the swell of his cane as his daughter folded her own hands against her stomach, also looking down. From her forcibly respectful position, Kiskla observed the kinetic clues as well as the empathetic ones. Not only from Marcello, but from the ones that were causing a reaction to his chemistry -- the blip in his façade inspired a frown to stain her pouted lips.

It wasn't unusual for planets to have uprisings here and there, but outright brutality like the father was suggestion seemed a little too primitive for a world that was as traditional and involved as Ansion. When the daughter turned, having elected herself to be the one to show the god and his companion where their chariot would be, many eyes followed curiously. And yet, Kiskla couldn't stop herself from reaching out and scraping her fingertips along the exteriors of some of the structures they walked past on the path to where the machines were kept.

Her psychometric abilities worked quickly, a convenient collaboration between ancestry and training. Brilliant sparks of flame filled her minds-eye, as well as crumbling foundations -- depending where and what she touched. There was more to the story than what was being told -- the stories wove through the twists of her skin and fingerprints through her mentality. A snake-like hissing whisper echoed through her mind, whispering words she had heard before. On Iridronia -- not far from Ansion.
The elder's concern about the wind hadn't been a hollow one -- what they'd used to rebuild had been scrounged from nearby lakes to compose mud bricks. The resilience was nothing compared to the architecture before. Kiskla and [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s welcome to the planet wasn't the only thing awry.

"I'm sorry for speaking out of turn earlier." The young woman said finally from up front, just as Kiskla curled her fingers into her palm to stop the connections, furrowing her brow intensely from the sight. "Some in the village wanted to go beyond the foothills back to the capitol, but my father spoke against it. I'm sure you saw that, Miywondl." Her eyes were still down as she came to a stop near a brown and black speeder with Songoquin Ltd. embossed into the side. Near it was a secondary speeder -- though it looked more damaged than the branded one. Finally figuring out the routine, the blonde Master moved to the least functional looking of the speeders; running her fingers against the metallic gashes -- confirming her suspicions that it had been the same thugs that had caused a majority of damage to the rest of the village.

"Do you know if any of the other areas beyond the capitol have faced similar situations to yours?"

The Gwurran girl looked at her for a moment, perplexed as to whether or not she should be speaking to Kiskla. After a moment's hesitation, she gave a slight subdued nod before changing the subject.

"Thank you...for..what you said. About justice. We'll intensify our prayers to you so your effort isn't too much." A small smile showed on her furry lips, before she nodded to herself and bowed deeply. Her fingers twitched slightly as she rose, finally daring to look up to his neck (horrors!) before she immediately turned to scurry back in the direction she'd come.

Blues were transfixed on the back of the girl until Kiskla was certain she was out of ear-shot. But just in case: "Permission to speak, m'lord?" Although she couldn't even keep up the submissive act for a faux audience. Without his permission, she moved from the speeder, arms crossed to stand beside the long-haired Naboo native "-This is not the Ansion that we're familiar with. This is recent -- extremely recent; that's likely why the government reached out in the first place. It's like a call I received not far from here before, on Iridronia. There was a terrorist group that plagued those streets -- but then vanquished."

She paused, hoping not to jinx the situation with her next words "-But it was more brutal than this -- unless there's more they aren't telling us." There could certainly be assumptions derived, though.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello was mostly silent as the young female spoke to him during their walk. Glacier-blue eyes surveyed their surroundings but mostly lingered over [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s form. For sure...his eyes always seemed to find their way to her in just about any circumstance, but this was different. While Marcello was not exactly a Psychometric savant, he knew enough to recognize what Kiskla was attempting to do. Further more, he knew Kiskla well enough to have a sense of the emotions that drifted across the surface of her existence.

However, the Jedi Master's attention was pulled back to the female creature that was in the process of thanking him for effectively speaking his mind. His face remained an emotionless mask until such a time as she scurried off. Before he could even think to do anything else, Ms. Sarcasm arrived. No doubt it was killing her to even remotely play a subservient role.

While Marcello really wanted to engage her in a battle of wits, they had more important matters to tend to. "A vanishing terrorist group... That's odd...terrorists generally attempt to claim some type of credit for actions, leveraging it to inspire more followers. What was the nature of the attacks on Iridonia?" Really, Marcello just wanted to have an idea of what they were up against.

Waiting for Kiskla's response, he casually made his way towards the speeder that appeared the most serviceable and began checking various components. Obviously...he wasn't going to just turn it on lest he risk blowing both of them to pieces.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"Super." Kiskla replied, not letting a breath pass between the end of [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s question about the nature of the attacks. Because super and nature implied supernatural. Get it?

"Mostly bloody slaughter with fear as the only purpose. There was a dark lord referenced as The Rook who was brainwashing iridronians for the sake of death. " she closed her eyes for a minute while Marcello tinkered--"They were indoctrinated to a dark Lord's propaganda; All that I am, anger, cruelty, vengeance, I bestow upon you... my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality, so that you may herald a new dark age for the Sith. Gaze now upon the lands above us, the Republic scurries to undo my work. While the capital stands defiantly against us, a blemish upon your new world. They must all be shown the price of their defiance. You will become my force of retribution, where you tred doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, Disciple of Rook."
The Rook had been powerful, and reflecting on it now, familiar before her time. The dark signature was a magnitude she'd not known until Coruscant--- she just hadn't reflected on the two incidents until this second.

"If I'm right, and the events are connected, this isn't a gang-related issue. It's Sith." Which also made sense why something hadn't felt right when they had broken the planets atmosphere.

Her eyes narrowed in thought, and she adjusted the weight of her pack to sling across her body instead of a single shoulder. She reduced her focus on the immediate, and searched the metaphysical span. Cerulean gaze searched in front of her, as if she were looking for something. The reality was she was thinking, deeply. The instance of Iridronia had been so powerful it had almost infected her with the darkness. And she was still as vulnerable in her chemistry; though everyday she got better at suffocating the imbalance.

A sharp inhale, and she scowled at herself. "I don't know why I didn't feel this earlier."

 

[Marcello Matteo]

No. Marcello did not get it. However, it ended up not mattering as [member="Kiskla Grayson"] launched into an actual explanation of the terror on Iridonia. Though he listened, the large Jedi Master kept about his current task. Once he was satisfied that everything was in working order, he reached into the cabin of the speeder and activated the engine. It took a bit longer than normal to turn-over, but it eventually sputtered to life. Forcing the engine to rev above idle for a few moments with the thrusters in a neutral position, Marcello eventually allowed it to return to idle.

Standing to his full height, he turned to cast his glacier-blue gaze in Kiskla's direction. Strands of blonde hair had, as usual, fallen in front of his eyes...partially obscuring his view. He couldn't be bothered to worry about it just this moment though. "Well. You weren't the only one, and we've managed to discover the reality before being confronted by them. I'll take it." Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he indicated they were set to go. "We should get moving." Casually, Marcello moved to begin securing the belongings they'd brought from the ship before taking his place in the driver's seat.

Naturally.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla didn't expect Marcello to stop everything and listen to her. That just wouldn't be efficient.

With the slightest reluctance, Kiskla leveraged herself into the passenger seat and set her pack between them. You know what else wouldn't be efficient? Squabbling over who got to do the honours -- though technically, the false god should likely not be doing his own driving. Which she voiced as she twisted, rummaging through her materials; "I'm surprised nobody volunteered to chauffeur you." Her fingers wrapped around the slender body of her datapad, and she plucked it from it's nestled location. Before sitting properly though, she remained twisted, and her right hand brushed Marcello's loose strands from the part to behind his ears -- still talking, of course. "-But maybe that would offend Miywondl's capabilities." She wrinkled her nose, before settling back in and firing up the electronic device for the map to appear once more --- the Gwurran's had taken them from their original route, and they might need to consider some adjustments.

[member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"]​

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello smiled thinly at [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s comment. As the engine had already been started, the large Jedi was able to give his lithe companion his full attention as she settled herself. "Hmm. Or maybe...Miywondl just enjoys giving his most favorite of humans a good ride." The smile that adorned his features lingered only briefly at the lewd reference as he returned his attention forward. Grasping the controls, Marcello advanced the power just slightly to guide them away from their present location.

As the speeder reached out for the open plains, Marcello steadily advanced the power to full as he smoothly guided the speeder along the most efficient route that kept them in line with the course plotted on Kiskla's device. That course had, of course, been mostly managed for the purposes of walking. It remained important for the Jedi to do what they could to minimize the effect of the strong surface winds by using the rolling landscape to their advantage.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla's lips circled, pursing the 'o' shape out slightly as she pursed in response to Marcello's comment. This seemed a most wonderful start to a running gag. Miywondl. Shame they were on a time schedule, a quick romp in the speeder wouldn't have been abhorred. She released an amused breath, on the verge of a snort before turning to rest her elbow on the top of the door and look out at the grassy sprawl. While a spectator to the scenery, the Jedi expanded her senses as much as she could. Removing the assumptions of what she was looking for and merely allowing the Force to tell her what was up. Something she'd learned quite young. Master Marclonus had been teaching herself and [member="Harland Gates"] the stupidity of assumption. From a canister, he had removed a medley of berries and juggled them. Each falling Into a different location; some behind his back, etcetera, but all out of sight. Immediately, Hal and herself had assumed this was a trick of discovery, and pointed out which colour had fallen where. Antares had then asked them which was the sweetest-- a question they hadn't expected and couldn't determine because of the assumption of location. So long story short, Kiskla was now not looking for anything but everything altogether.

"Slow down." Kiskla suddenly spoke, after they'd been riding for about an hour or so. Because she was hanging out the window, she was looking right to the east. It was dark now, for the most part, but there was a flicker of something far off. Normally, one would assume this was a regular fire for a village; but the amount of black smoke that curled into the starry sky was startling. And she could feel a lot of fear radiating from that single spot.

[member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello had caught [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s facial reaction but only just. He was happy that he forced himself to set to purpose because their seemingly combined propensity for physical interaction would have certainly...well...it just wouldn't have been very efficient.

As they sped across the landscape of Ansion in relative silence - each Jedi focused on their own respective task, Marcello allowed his mind to touch upon the likely culprits for what was happening on Ansion. In truth - the list of Sith capable of doing something and having it actually take some sort of effect was...relatively small. He really hoped it did not involve Shara because any confrontation with that monster seemed to always result in Marcello very nearly being killed.

Kiskla's command to slow down broke through the Naboo Jedi's silent thoughts. Retarding the thrust gradually, Marcello brought the speeder to a much more leisurely pace. Given their lower speed, the speeder stabilized in the harsh winds of the planet. Well...the noticeable effect of the force was reduced simply because the speeder was not rocketing through the elements any longer.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"Look," Kiskla continued, realizing that Slow Down didn't actually accomplish what she'd really wanted. She wanted to investigate, but she didn't want to be the only one seeing the spectacle of cloudy embers. Though, with all the wind, the odour of something raunch travelled broadly. "Another distraction before the capital, I know, but..let's go."

She really hated being in the passenger seat.



[member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Those that could not be indoctrinated must be eliminated."

Those words echoed throughout the confines of his mind as he stepped over the charred corpses that littered the streets of the Ansionian village, taking great care to avoid the pools of blood and bodily fluids that had begun to collect in the indentions of the ground made by short-ranged artillery strikes. What sort of commanding officer would he be if he went trudging around in the sludge like some common jar-headed grunt? Not a very good one, at least in his mind, so he took great care and precision to not get one bit of his uniform muddled by the grotesque vile that practically covered the ground before him. They had come to this village on their master's command with orders to either convince the populace to join those of their species who had already flocked to the master's banner, or eradicate the women and children and subjugate those men fit enough to be transformed into warriors.

They had tried to go with the diplomatic route, but when the wretches refused to give in to the Master's demands things got hostile.

They had purged the entire village, ransacked every home, murdered everyone that could not benefit them. They gunned down women and children in the streets, broke into homes and smashed the head of newborn babes against the wall. They detained any man that could prove to be useful, beat them to near-death, and began to collect them in armored transports for the trip back to the capital. However; there were reports of several stragglers hiding out in the ruins and surrounding forest areas, and many of the Commander's men had been sent out to find them and either bring them back in one piece, or execute them if they proved to difficult.

Now almost all of them have been accounted for, although the reports of a speeder traveling in the vicinity of the region made the Commander anxious. He had almost ordered a full withdraw from the area to avoid any trouble that the occupants of the speeder might give them, but he was more scared of what his master might do if he left the job incomplete. So he decided to then mobilize heavy weapon squadrons to set up in the outer ruins to watch the perimeter and to eliminate anyone who came to close to the village.

They could not afford to be discovered so early, not with the master's plan so close to fruition.

[member="Marcello Matteo"] [member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello slowed the speeder to a complete stop once they'd managed to shelter at the bottom of a steep ridge. Glancing in [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s direction, the Jedi Master forced himself not to roll his eyes. The large Naboo native really wanted to say, 'Yes. Let's just silhouette ourselves on the horizon in a big ass speeder as we drive directly at a situation we know nothing about'. However, Marcello knew that wouldn't serve to improve anyone's awareness of their tactical situation, and if he'd learned one thing about Kiskla, it was that such battles had to be chosen with care. Why? She was stubborn and would argue her point, logical or not, until she was blue in the face. Also, Marcello knew much more than just that about her. Like a pastor knew his work, even.

A digression.

"Let's...find a slightly more logical approach to your desired end-state, shall we?" Alright so that wasn't...actually much better, at all. Work in progress. With an eye towards avoiding awkward situations, the large Jedi jumped out of the speeder and grabbed his pack. Slinging it over his back, Marcello secured it firmly after retrieving a datapad and optical device. Swiftly, he leapt up the ridge until he reached the top where he proned himself out and gazed out to the horizon. Placing the optic to his eyes, Marcello surveyed...what he could. They were still a decent distance away, so it was hardly perfect. However, he saw enough to convince him he did not want to drive a speeder straight into the area.

After a few notations on his datapad, Marcello slid back down the ridge to Kiskla's location. "Gonna take both of us on this one. If you can keep us hidden from view, I can keep the wind for blowing us across the surface. The alternative is taking old faithful over there...and getting blown up, quickly." Neither one of them would be able to do both for the amount of time it would take to, basically, reach the destination.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla wasn't idle in [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s absence. She'd dislodged herself from the seat she'd been left in, and poking and prodding in the distance-- peering with eyes more holistic than her naked blues. The return was what she'd hoped against; a raging similarity between the Gwurran village and the stamps left on Iridronia. When the Naboo-born returned and confirmed the approach would result in catastrophe, it was definitive then. This was the work of the Panathan hand.

She could have made a Miwondyl joke here, but it would have been ill considering there were none left in the village to worship him. Pack strung across her body, she crossed to near him; drawing her awareness with the white current as she did so. It's waves crashed and collided in a finely knit pattern here, and discovering a knoll was difficult for a comparative novice. She was no Olra'en after all.

"Ready when you are," Kiskla murmured, extending a figurative finger into the loop that had evidenced itself. With a healthy ounce of effort, she extended the pressure of her ethereal pry to expose the hole more and stretch the invisible veil over herself and the larger blond.