Myriad Reckonings

Sirejj slowed his gait as he sensed slight movement ahead. There was almost certainly someone waiting for him there. He leaned forward slightly, light on his feet in case he needed to run or leap to avoid a blow. But he left his weapon on his back. Appearing hostile might ruin his chances of learning anything, either of his own desire or for Tarkin's knowledge.

He ascended the steps and reached a shelf of damp rock that overlooked the wall of water in front of it and the river that flowed away for miles underground. The ice cold spray was refreshing and washed away the sweat and stale air of the caves behind him. He was tired, but not in any way unprepared for a fight if it came to him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He looked around and saw nothing at first. There was someone closeby, but their presence was hidden deep within Atoa's life force. It didn't feel like they knew where he was just yet, but he wasn't entirely sure. This world, especially deep in its core, was strong in the Force and seemed to have a will of its own. And as of now, it didn't seem to appreciate more trespassers.

A shadow loomed on the other side of the falls, backlit by the lamps behind it. Something similar in build to Atoans, wearing a spiked headdress by the looks of it. Raia got to her feet and retreated into the shadows, grasping her lance. She'd see what exactly came through the water, what his disposition was, before she made herself known. Moving back down the tunnel into a little alcove, she stood up straight and waited.

Sirejj looked into the crashing water in front of him. There was almost certainly a passage behind it, but it appeared as a perfect dead end. He looked up to where the water gushed from a narrow crevice and fell down the walls and then flowed away into a stream down through the many lower caves. Those passages, flooded by the waterfall, were impassable.

He narrowed his eyes and allowed the light of his staff to go out again.

Dim light shone from behind the falls, casting dancing shadows on the walls behind him. His destination almost surely lay beyond these falls, but the whispers of doubt that had grown louder since he'd entered these caves pulled at him. "Go back!" They seemed to say, almost in a threatening tone.

Sirejj frowned and his lips narrowed as he struggled to clear his mind and focus on the task at hand. He must cross through these falls to the other side, but one foul step and he'd be sent crashing back down the cliffside through a river of jagged, razor sharp crystals. There appeared to be a way through the water by way of navigating over a precarious selection of slippery rocks. He stepped closer, but as he did, the room seemed to spin beneath him. The whispers grew louder, slowly gnawing away at his sanity. The Force presence here was incredibly powerful, and he knew if he took one false step, either by a loose stone or within his own mind, he may never return from these depths.

This place was certainly enough to drive one mad.

Raia chanced a look back at the waterfall. Some of the light had dimmed. Perhaps he had doused a torch? She had no qualms; it was better to work in the dark. It was at times like these she wished she had that second sense her mother and sister had, if only to get a feel for her opponent. The shadow she had seen suggested he moved like a young man, and he was most definitely going to be taller than her. At 4'11 she was hardly an intimidating sight.

Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, Sirejj brought his mind to the task before him. He focused on the Force around him that was so unique to Atoa. He smelled the sharp cold of the waterfall and the musty dampness of the caves behind him. He felt the spray of the water on his skin and face. He saw very little but the shadows dancing around him, sometimes taking on eerily humanoid forms before melting away into nothing. He heard the crashing of the water and the dripping of the stalagmites from the ceiling. This was the heart of Atoa. This is where her Force signature came from. This was the power he desired so much to learn about, the living Force that emerged from the planets and other silent things.

He was not an enemy in that respect. Planting his feet and his staff, he reached out into the core of this planet's signature, seeking guidance through the obstacles his faced. He felt a chill pass over him for a moment, and the voices that had hounded him for so long finally began to slip away. They simply passed him by, as if he was one of their own.

He looked up and spotted a small but passable path through the falls. He stepped out, finding foothold on the small stones that led beneath the waters. Not caring if the icy water touched him he returned the staff to his back and passed through, allowing Atoa to guide him in the darkness.

She heard the footsteps scraping along the passage and raised an eyebrow. He was a sharp one, then.

Kurra inhaled sharply. "He's inside."

"Calm yourself, child," Mother murmured. "Excitement is unnecessary. He will come in his own time."

"I see him more clearly now," she said, brow furrowing. "What a strange form his signature takes. There is a darkness to it..."

"There is potential, though." Her Mother stood. "Come, he will be delivered to us soon and we should make everyone ready."

It was treacherous footing, but Sirejj was not born yesterday. He managed to make it completely past the falls. It felt different, here, as if he'd stepped inside an entirely different place.

It was still dimly lit, but his sharp eyes had adjusted and he saw comfortably well. He saw a sort of chamber with more runes on the walls and a carefully carved pathway up through many other tunnels. Looking up, he admired the carvings. They had been made so long ago that the edges had begun to fade, but the skill by which they were carved was evident. It was impressive for a civilization with little to no modernization, especially that long ago.

He could feel others here, but he found that hunting down their signatures in his mind brought back that creeping sense of fear. No, he would have to leave his hunter tendencies behind for now. This was not bloody Dathomir- it was peaceful here.

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Sirejj exists in such a weird place between light and dark, and yet it's a seperate idea from "light" and "dark" altogether. makes him interesting but hard to write lol

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You're doing it really well!! I love him and his morally grey self.

Raia stayed still as the stranger passed through the falls, though she drew in a breath as he came into view. What she had taken to be a spiked headdress was in fact a crown of sharp horns jutting directly from his skull, which was hairless and marked with many patterns--whether they were tattoos or skin pigmentation, she wasn't sure. It made for a terrifying visage.

In his hand he carried a well cared-for staff, which appeared to be a weapon or mobility aid. He seemed able-bodied, so she assumed the former. He was younger, as she had guessed, and clearly athletic. Raia most certainly classified him as a threat, even without his strange physical characteristics. How common was this species in the rest of the galaxy? They must be accomplished warriors.

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which was completely by accident. I didn't wake up one day and go "huh ima make a morally grey character" he just kinda happened

Sirejj could sense there was someone nearby, but he wasn't sure who or what. He decided to let them be. He doubted his welcome would be a kind one, and considering his appearance and the fact he had more than one motive, he must tread lightly. If the person or persons lurking around wanted to make themselves known, they would.

He was tired, but he knew rest was nowhere nearby. He could continue on for days if he had to, but he'd rather not if given the option. He refused to think of it, but he knew he'd be at risk of losing his mind if he was alone in these caves for an extended period of time.

His curiosity returned now that his mind was clearer. He wondered what these people were like. Their culture, though one of the many centered around both deities and the living force, was still so unique amongst the others in the galaxy. His own culture, though considerably more warlike and carrying an affinity for communing with the dead, was very similar. They were all part of the same spectrum of the living force.

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That's character development for ya!

Raia, having taken in the stranger's appearance fully, opted to remain hidden. It was best to take him by surprise if he tried anything--she didn't think she could handle him if he was expecting her. She sized up any weak points that she could see from her vantage point, searching for tender spots, old wounds, and easy marks. She needed to know her opponent before she engaged...if she engaged at all.

Sirejj had many scars from his fights, but they'd all healed. He wore them with pride. His people valued resilience and grit, and he was a perfect example of those values.

The tunnels were wider now. He travelled them slowly, studying the walls as he went. The light was enough to where he did not need his staff, so he placed it on his back.

There were many runes and carvings, some young, some old. The temperature rose slowly as he neared what he believed to be their civilization. He was steady and calm, the blanket of Atoa's Force covering him as much as it did her people. It instilled in him a sense of safety and confidence that would prove invaluable. It was not unlike how his homeworld had provided him a shield against those who would do him harm or take him for their own use.

That was a skill he had learned very young, and of all the things he'd learned of the Force or his magicks, that one had proven the most useful to him.

Raia followed at a distance, slipping behind stalagmites and into other passageways whenever it seemed like he might turn around. She kept her lance at the ready, though she got the feeling from his body language that he wasn't looking for a fight. He certainly appeared attentive to his surroundings, but not in a way that suggested hostility.

Sirejj felt the footsteps of someone following him and debated as he went on if he should interact with whatever it was. He suspected a guard had picked up his presence and had been closeby since the waterfall.

He reached out towards this being, feeling as much of their thoughts as he could without disturbing their mind or the Force around them. They were suspicious, and intent on guarding their home...what was left of it. Among those feelings he picked up on fleeting bits of terror and agony. They were very faint, almost as if this character didn't even feel them, but they glistened there like tiny crystals in the shadows of their thoughts.

They did not desire violence any more than he did. He decided to attempt contact. Pausing from his studying of a carved image in the wall, he turned towards where he suspected the person might be.

"Hello?" He asked, his tone placid and curious, as if he hadn't spent the past hours dragging himself through dark and dangerous caverns.

Raia stopped, frowning. This one had the Final Heart beating in him. He must have known she was following him. Why speak now?

She knew of the language he spoke. The invaders had spoken it. These were hateful words, words of killers and torturers. Why was it coming out of another species entirely? He wasn't human, yet he spoke human words.

Raia gripped her lance in both hands but stayed still for the time being. She'd see if he turned around and sought her out. If he spoke again, she'd show herself.

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By the way Atoan has been explicitly stated to be untranslatable by protocol droids. That was a problem for Vader when he came here, but Saro had a unique workaround.

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hmmmm I wonder what might be a good workaround. he might try the translator not knowing it won't work. he could perhaps communicate with other force-sensitives a little easier but that wouldn't work for Raia.

Since his special ability is kinda the whole unity with the planet's living force thing he could perhaps understand/communicate in whatever that native language is? but that kinda seems overpowered to me

Sirejj sensed a negative reaction to his question. This one either did not understand basic at all, which was most likely, or had been very unnerved learning that he knew of their presence. He sighed, contemplating what to do next. An idea struck him. If they only understood one language, and he did not speak it, it didn't matter what language he used. They would not understand him. His tone and body language would be taken into account, and perhaps any negative association with a foreign tongue. There was one language he was positive they'd never heard before.

"You likely do not understand my words. If you by chance do, I wish for you to know I come in peace." He spoke in Dathomiri, curious to see if a different sound would alter the being's reaction. It wasn't the best of translations he was sure, but he doubted it mattered in this instance.