Faction Restoring the Faith (Return to Dathomir)

[Gabriel Satra]

Daughters of Allya.
Learn these words and learn them well, for they are the foundations
that will increase your strength and keep you safe from harm.
Those who suffer emotion will never enjoy peace.
Those who choose ignorance will never know their own greatness.
Those who yield to passion will fail to dominate.
Those who fear death will never achieve pure power.
Never forget that your magic must always be used wisely.
Never concede to evil, lest you be consumed by it.
- First Nightsister Allya, Book of Law​

The words resounded in Gabriel's head as he traversed the twisted vegetation that had overrun his homeward since the dawn of time, before he or the Nightsisters had existed there. Navigating the difficult landscape in twilight under Dathomir's eery blood-red light cast from its central star, the Dathomiri Zabrak found himself relying as much on the Force to guide his movements as any of his other senses. Such use of the Force was second-nature in Nightsister culture, using the Force across its spectrum to aid and better themselves, rather than seeking power and being corrupted by it, or living within restrictive and dogmatic doctrines that were ultimately self-defeating.

The Great Mother, Talzin, who had once upon a time united the Nightsister clans, alleged that the Book of Law was a forgery of Allya's teachings by Nightsisters who had been weakened by the Jedi blood in their veins. In saying this, Talzin believed that the Book of Shadows was a true representation of Allya's original teachings, as she asserted that the writings of Allya did not include the notions of good and evil. Gabriel kept this in mind, weighing different teachings against one another, their perspectives, with each serving its purpose.

Ultimately, he tended toward the teachings of Talzin, and thus the original teachings of Allya, believing not in good and evil as strictly defined principles and forces. Instead, well-intentioned people could be caught up and manipulated, without cognisance or choice, into doing unspeakable things. Especially under oppressive, fanatical regimes, common people had been coerced and forced to do horrible things, even succumbing to acts of genocide. These people were not, at their base, evil. Except for the mentally ill and psychologically disordered, where anything was fair play, by and large people were well-intentioned, looking for meaning and purpose in their lives and seeking value, through relationships and self-sacrifices made for partners, family, friendships, and work.

Gabriel had seen this first-hand in his formative years growing up on Coruscant, after being taken as a youth from Dathomir by the Jedi and Galactic Alliance in a war with the Nightsisters, who they misguidedly and dogmatically cast as evil. Aside from the wealthy and political elite, who dictated governance, people were doing their bit to live as well as they could and support their circle. Some people, a select minority, would take advantage of those whom could not help or protect themselves, often due to their own inability to provide for themselves or their circle, but sometimes due to impatience, laziness, entitlement, and greed.

It was in the Jedi and Galactic Alliance's inability and unwillingness to do what needed to be done to look after and protect the common people, their lack of authority amidst their moral grandstanding and virtue-signalling propagandistic system, that Gabriel had come to seek another way, another system of governance - enforcement that instilled order and safety, increased provisions and wealth distribution with efficient economies unhindered by being overly democratic and pandering to different population groups for popularity, a system of governance that just got things done, and through unquestionable authority did not allow those who would do harm, take advantage, or spread anarchy, to do so. It was with this mentality that he came to seek training from a Sith, to empower himself to enforce change in the world, and similarly, how he came to Dathomir, to process and come to terms with what had happened to him as a youth, and to seek out their teachings and ideologies of the Force, as well as the Force magic and nightspells they used.

Climbing through the twisted vines, trees and other vegetation, Gabriel followed his guide, the Force, towards what he sensed would be a major Nightsister congregation. It was a lengthy journey, not least because of the cumbersome nature all around, but because he had settled his ship down far away, fearing that a closer approach from a foreign ship may have been met with overly defensive force, not due their nature, but merely given the Nightsisters precarious and troubling history with outsiders.

Coming across a clearing, the hairs on the Zabrak's skin began to stiffen and stand on end, his senses prickling to a danger nearby. Observing crushed tree branches as well as trunks, and how the whole area had been flattened, he surmised that whatever had enforced its will on nature in this way must have been gargantuan. In his arrogance, Gabriel ignored the warning signs, both those that lay all around him and what the Force was telling him. Drawing up to a cave with a wide opening in the mountainside and venturing inside, it seemed the crushed wood around clearing had disguised the nature of the beast. For as he entered the cave and the ground became softer soil, the towering strong Zabrak's stride fell off a step, into a whole. While he landed without fail, the surprise drew his attention downward to the ground. No longer hidden under lush vegetation, the ground and cave were illuminated by the light of Dathomir's moons and central star, which cast through from openings all over the cave's ceiling. This lit up the giant track in which he stood, its edges shadowed by the light cast from above. His familiarity with the planet, as well as universal notoriety, led him to the belief that only one creature could have made this footprint - a Rancor.

Within moments of his realisation, its terrifying nature was compounded by a roar that came from the entrance to the cave. A creature that had been tamed and ridden by Nightsisters of the past, the Rancor had long been the apex predator on the planet. Even for a formidable Force user, coming across a wild Rancor was dangerous, let alone for an Apprentice, despite his physical gifts. He had travelled too far to connect with his lightsaber and draw it to him from his ship, and had left the weapon behind as to not arouse suspicion from the Nightsisters, trusting in his formidable athleticism, strength and speed, as well as his burgeoning Force abilities, to avoid the dangerous creatures that inhabited the planet. With the entrance to the cave blocked by the massive beast, here he stood, almost utterly defenceless against a beast of this size, and yet...he lowered into his battle stance. As his heart caught in his throat, he remembered the words of Allya, "Those who fear death will never achieve pure power.", and made peace with what was to come, whatever the outcome. His body pulsed with blood and with the Force as he became one with it, trusting in it to guide and energise his movements, even as it were, to almost certain death.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom sensed a change in the energy near her home located along the outskirts of her coven perimeter, nearest the clearing, used as the landing strip. Her demons began whispering to her of what may come. The strip is typically bare, as most who live here are not keen to leaving their homeworld, and the few who come don't want to be known. Frankly, Nightsisters have other Magickal means of traveling across the galaxy, which they do not openly discuss with outsiders. The Sith occupy distant areas of the planet, monitoring approaching vessels for their own reasons. Those of certain criteria, faction logo, or of large passenger number are always thwarted and redirected to an inspection area. Even the Sith don't want Dathomir's natural resources squandered, without hunters going through the proper channels, and paying their fees. Citizens have no issues, as off-worlders certainly were never taught to speak the language; even protocol droids have trouble with linguistic articulation and proper ordering of wording in their dialog. This would be because while off world, Nightsisters and Nightbrothers purposefully alter their speech, in order that outsiders cannot learn the articles of speech, and will forever be easily spotted. It is easy to identify the locals, for even the droids become overwhelmed in trying to decipher portrayed intent. If the computer understands the Paecean spoken, then it is certainly an imposter.

The Nightsister remembered the first night she met Kyrel Ren, every aspect about his approach to her was absolutely unacceptable. This memory caused the walls of her hut to suddenly become far too suffocating. She set out to occupy her thoughts with anything else besides him and their torrid affair. For all she put up with from him, he earned her acceptance by the intensity of degree which he doted his affections, but anyone else would have been murdered for such trespasses as he had committed. Still, the silence left behind in his wake since their last meeting became unnerving as she stewed over his lingering coldness. It is however, exactly what she wants, so she tells herself.

Balled lightning flicked across the sky as the gods of this world vowed to protect this System from intrusion. Interaction with them on any personal level sucks too, most often, yet her gods are no more entertaining than her men, the usefulness of either often never lasts long enough. Sadly though, she cannot change her gods, as they are limited, each to their particular star systems. But men however, well they may even be more perplexing, because they are so many and they are often found to be unique one from another. 'Couldn't they all just be like flowers? All the same, and not deviating from an established norm?' She knew her observation most ridiculous as she walked the path around her home, through the herb garden. 'Certainly men are all the same concerning the critical aspects of their personality!'

In the distance a Rancor roared in enraged. The pets in their pasture dedicated to their Nightsister among her coven called back in answer, growing restless to assist the outsider among the nearby caves.

Pom wondered who would dare disturb a Rancor so? Surely only someone worthy, for poachers would be heard by the natives long before the cry of the Rancor. Usually they start screaming in horror long before accomplishing any of their objectives, first becoming ensnared in one magick after another to capture them. Such unwelcome off-worlders can never keep quiet as they are typically a drunken and rambunctious lot! Pom watched as the herd ran in circles, preparing to jump their boundary fence.

"Surely its only the rite of passage for a youth," she whispered to soothe the herd. She smiled knowing the loyal monsters only remain here in the camp near their Nightsisters because they choose to, no primitive fencing could actually hold them! And how they are consistently spoiled by their owners!

Pom traveled the dirt path till it ended, then she took to making her way towards further to the caves, unseen among shadow.



Gabriel Satra

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Gaia sat, somewhat uncomfortably, against a wall of some building. She wasn't quite sure, in truth, she honestly was more occupied with her thoughts. The landing strip, though, was bare as usual. She had of course initially came in via space, mostly due to her inability or lack of understanding of other more magickal ways of reaching Dathomir. Unlike the many Nightsisters, Gaia was not born into this. She was an outsider, learning, and doing her best to pickup the culture & skills of the witches.

She was lucky enough to be able to come to Dathomir, considering her family's general connection to the Sith Empire. Or maybe that was why she was able too? Ugh, family was always so complicated.

Her tail gently swayed as she adjusted herself, crossing her legs. To her right was the endless and ever lightweight bag that Pom Stych Tivé gave her during one of her first lessons. In her lap was one of the leather bound texts, open at about the halfway mark. She had been studying and reading it intently, mostly preparing for her next lesson with Pom. Gaia was determined to succeed. She had to. It was in her nature to excel at whatever was task was given to her, after all.

But, the girl was still adjusting to the differences. She was much more light sided than the average witch. Or, at least she felt that way.

Her fingers ran along the ring that Pom had given her - her totem of invisibility.

That was, until she heard the very loud roar of a Rancor. The Felacat's hair on her tail and ears practically puffed out at maximum, along with a jump. With a worried look on her face, she quickly put the textbook into her bag - and threw the bag on her shoulder as she ran towards the sound. She only slowed her speed as she came close to a cave. Her ears, held back, and her the little fur on her still puffed out. Gaia paused, hiding behind a rock as she took a deep breath.

Maybe she should've found Pom or some other person first... Oh well, surely others heard it?

Gabriel Satra

 

[Gabriel Satra]

The Dathomiri Zabrak braced himself for what was to come. He could think of fewer foes more deserving of bringing him to his end. Amidst taking his battle stance, a strategy occurred to him, one that was commonly used by animals against their predators. He rose out of his stance slightly, widening his arms to make himself seem as large as he could. Even a man of his imposing stature paled by comparison to a Rancor, a fully grown Rancor at that. There wasn't much hope for his tactic, but at this point he would try anything.

The Rancor responded in turn, spread its beastly arms which ended in menacing claws, and bore its jagged teeth as it let forth another roar. Not the response Gabriel had hoped for. The Apprentice returned the ferocity, calling forth a deep growl from his vocal chords that he imbued with the Force, transforming the sound projected to be far louder than he would otherwise physically be capable of. The bigger beast retracted slightly, seemingly taken aback by the willing call to war of the Zabrak. Regardless, it was not enough.

Whether out of an instinctive drive to protect its young, who may have existed inside the cave, a need to protect its home, or merely a stubbornness born from always having been the apex predator on the planet, the top of the dominance hierarchy, top of the food chain, the Rancor did not back down. A battle of stubbornness and arrogance - two can play at that game. Whether his actions were by choice or not, Gabriel's unwillingness to back down in the face of insurmountable odds evidenced both his own self-belief that he was the apex predator, the predominant force, wherever he went, and in turn, that he had made peace with death. It struck at the mentality that one was better to die fighting for dominance atop the hierarchy, rather than in cowardice avoiding the fight and belittling oneself. However, the young man had much to learn, not least about picking his battles, but also so much more. Nonetheless, he was out of options in his current circumstances.

The beast reared its ugly head and charged. Gabriel called to the Force once more, becoming one with it. His every muscle fibre rippled with its innervation, pulsing with power and energy. As the bigger beast closed in and lunged with a mighty claw, the smaller beast sensed a pull, ducking under the rolling hulking mass that passed through. The Rancor was slow, but mighty. Gabriel scanned for objects to use as weapons, carcasses of Imperial Troopers or natives, and returned little. He felt a pull to something deeper in the cave, perhaps therein lay what he needed, and he was a keen listener and follower of the Force's will, almost reflexively, as it had to be in combat for optimal efficiency, there was no questioning, only action.

Without knowing it, the Zabrak was effectively completing a rite of passage as a Nightbrother. One that he was bound to fail, competing in the rite ahead of his time, despite his experience on other worlds. He dashed further into the cave just as the same hulking arm came swinging back. Gabriel felt the hairs on his back stand on end as the whoosh of air from the flailing limb rushed past him, the claw narrowly missing him thanks to his speed. Finding the Zabrak in its sights once again, the Rancor had a target, and descended into another charge.

The cave walls narrowed as Gabriel entered its depths, just barely big enough to house a charging Rancor. There would be no slipping past its grasp if he got cornered at a dead end. He just had to keep ahead of it and hope the cave's tunnels circled around at some point. Rounding a bend and reaching the depths of his destined path, he saw it, eyes pulled to it both by the Force and the shards of light that cracked through the moss, leaves and dirt that covered most of its small surface. A crystal. A plunging fist drove into the moist pit and out again, leaving a gaping hole behind. There was no time for taking care, a fervoured urgency had overcome the man, by necessity. Remnants scattered from his closed fist as his arm fell back into rhythm with the motion of his body. There would be time to clean it off later, once the rite of passage was complete and he had the calm and mindset to inspect with more care and divine its inner workings and energies.

Shaking off his fist, finding the crystal within the dirty mess, he pocketed it as best he could while at a sprint. Then he came to a skidding, sudden stop. He had reached the end of the tunnel, with the Rancor not far behind him. Turning to face the beast, he readied for impact. The charging monstrous head came through, hell-bent on dealing as much harm to the Zabrak as it could, regardless of its own safety. Gabriel dodged to the side, the head narrowly missing him, and was caught in the chest by the lowered shoulder that followed. The impact threw him back and he careened into the wall, as did the head of the beast, the cave shaking as it did. Pinned against the cave wall by the shoulder and arm of the beast, his body was nestled in right next to its monstrous head and gnashing jaws. There was no escape for him now.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

"Watch Gaia Sunaris Cadera . You may elect to take this trial someday," the Nightsister declared while stomping passing her student and entered the cave to watch the commotion take place. "But do not interfere." Mistress Pom Stych Tivé gave a twist to the onyx cabochon ring on the pointer finger of her right hand and as she did so she vanished from physical detection in this world. She watched the Nightbrother get himself into a serious jam.

'For what though?' she wondered, seeing the young man cornered by the beast.

"You choose to die for a shard of rock?" She called out with an air of condescension, from the path inside of the tunnel Gabriel Satra had taken, her voice echoing over that of the beast. She did not buy into the practices of the Force Users and their little light-swords. "You think that rock is going to save you?"

The Rancor may be free, but it is Mother or Grandmother to the pets of the local covens. Pom reappeared as a translucent figure of smoke, before the face of the Nightbrother for just a moment to say, "You require not a rock but to work on your mind." She vanished again to see what he would do next.

"How do you know, Nightbrother, that the Crystals are not the lure valued by the Rancor?" she asked.

No Nightsister would interfere with the Rite of Passage of the youth. If they die, then they die from stupidity and ignorance. It might look badly for their Magus or Mistress, but likely their teacher would be glad to be rid of them before further disappointment and shame. Already Pom thought this one's actions a pathetic show. That he is here wouldn't he already know how to defend himself? Could he not levitate the beast? Could he not put it to sleep? And she certainly would not permit him to harm it!

"Look, if you're truly in above your head I am going to need you to voice your request for help." She made no attempt to rush her wording for the sake of his dire predicament; to the Mistress it is all just a common occurrence for the Dathomiri. "And if you request my aid, most certainly it won't be for free."

The Rancor knew her voice, and she already bought the young man some time, for Pom interrupted the Rancor's concentration while delivering her offer. The beast listened intently for a cue word from her, and did not detect any orders to follow in what the witch had spoke.

She remained cloaked and nearby. Much like the Sith, Nightsisters do not coddle their youth but help them develop and build confidence, even if they have other crap they would rather to be doing!

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Gaia jumped slightly, although there was no change from the initial puffiness of her fur. Her instructor was already here, too. It figured that she would already be here! It was impressive, to say the least, but Mistress Pom always surprised the young and rather inexperienced witch.

"I won't," she confirmed to Pom's instructions. She didn't have to tell her twice - Gaia already knew she was out of her wits to begin with. Trying to calm down a rancor? But, the realization that it might be a trial made her much more humble. She gave a nod, more to herself than anything, as she realized she could also disappear.

She gently stroked the ring on her finger as she whispered a quiet incantation - and her own body seemingly vanished from view.

Gaia very carefully positioned herself near the cave. Her pupils dilated wide as she watched the scene unfold within the cave.

She held her hand over her mouth as she saw the man get pinned against the wall. She glanced towards Pom's voice - he had to request their help. That made sense, if this was a trial. Gaia tilted her head. Her feline ears were still pulled back, defensive, and very fluffed out. Along with her tail, which whipped quickly behind her.

Gabriel Satra Pom Stych Tivé