Opportunities On Ossus (Open, Liam)

[Ebon Dir]

Right, left, right, left. With a grim determination, he kept the rhythm.

Good gods it was hot.

The thought ran through the lone traveler’s mind once again, as it had constantly ever since he had wandered into the desert 2 days ago. He almost wished he were still in the festering stinking swamp he had been wading through the week before.

At least there had been some shade.

All told, the man had been wandering over the surface of the planet for almost 3 weeks now, a translation from an ancient data file his only guide--3 weeks of travel through uninhabited, inhospitable and sometimes utterly barren terrain. He was starting to doubt whether he was even in the right place. Several months ago he had been so excited, having found not only the system where he could find the temple and it’s treasures but the planet and even the rough coordinates where it lay. But his excitement had been siphoned from him as steadily as his energy once he hit the surface. As little as he liked to admit it, he would have to turn back to his ship soon or risk dying.

Right, left, right, left. Just a little ways further.

[Ebon Dir]

It was approaching late afternoon when he finally slowed to a stop to get his bearings. The man's raised hand did it's best to shade the sun, but he still would have been blinded were in not for the goggles.

An observer would have a hard time learning much of the wanderer just from watching him. Little of Ebon was visible beneath the dirty white cloak and headwrap and he had been going about his business with a quiet efficiency, eager to conserve as much energy as possible in this harsh landscape.

Still, one might wonder what a Tusken Raider was doing here, so far from home.

He scanned the horizon, searching for any landmarks that might help him determine his position. According to the datafile he had found, the jedi temple was in this general area. Or at least it had been several thousand years ago; he had no idea if it now lay in ruins. Ebon finally spotted a distinctive rock formation at the edge of his vision, a formation that, according to the map, lay due north of the temple. He plotted a new course using the formation and the sun as guides.

With a quick swallow of water, the man continued on his silent trek. His slight limp left an odd trail of footprints behind him: the only testament to his passing.

[Clea Darkrunner]

The watcher followed quietly. Her cloak blended with the dry desert, her steps quiet and assured. Her mind blended with the thoughts of the little animals that lived there, native, as she was native, to the great Erg that surrounded the Sacred Place.

She watched him, curious. He would die, as all died who came this far, this near to the Sacred. He would die, and the snake would take shelter in his ribcage, the little deadly scorpion feast on his flesh until it was gone. His fate had been sealed when he stepped onto the sands.

For so had the Sacred been kept sacrosanct, and the Secret kept secret.

Even from those who guarded it, descendants of those who had made it. Even from those who did not know they were.....Jedi.

[Ebon Dir]

Considering the overwhelming tedium of the landscape, it was no surprise that Ebon's mind began to wander as he continued plodding along.

The scattered references he had found to his destination had described it as everything from a temple to a library to an acadamy. Perhaps it was all three, perhaps none of them. In any case, he had faith it had what he sought.

Information on the Force, collected over the course of hundreds and thousands of years.

It brought an instant smile to his face. For close to ten years now he had been searching obsessively for more information on the Force, traveling from system to system, poring through dilapidated books and corrupted datatracks, consuming everything he found. As a result, he was now a virtual encyclopedia of knowledge on the Force in all it's forms, from the darkest to the lightest; he had no prejudices, no preconcieved notions. A few years ago he had found his first mention of Ossus and the treasures found there. And now...now he was finally here and closing in on his goal.

He had been satisfied with the small scraps he had been finding. Now he was about to be invited to the table for the main course.

[Clea Darkrunner]

Gently, she chivvied the little brothers of the sand - the viper, the scorpion, the kaylath, into his path. Quietly, she annoyed their simple nervious systems, sorrowing as she did so, knowing their loss to the All. She loosed the Desert on him, all fangs, stingers, paws, and claws. And watched, dry-eyed, cool in the desert's heat, as they attacked him................

His persistence didn't matter. All that mattered was that the Sacred be protected.

[Ebon Dir]

The warning rattle of a serpent in his path was the alarm that woke him from his daydream.

At first he wasn't that concerned. Long years of his youth had been spent in the wilds of planets across the galaxy. His ambitions back then had extended no further than the next hunt, the next trophy, the next opportunity to collect bragging rights. A little viper was really no big deal to someone that had once had his fun staring down a krayt dragon. He caught the omninous sound of another rattle behind him. Spinning around he was surprised to find a pair of snakes behind him as well. Where had they come from? They couldn't have been laying there the whole time.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of at least a half dozen scorpions, as big as his hand. Looking closer he saw more approaching from every side. Even in the eerie silence, he couldn't hear the arachnids; a fleeting glimpse here and there was all that told him they were there, among the rippling sand dunes. Something was definately wrong.

A shooting pain shot up his leg. The traveler looked down, horrified to see the first snake, recoiling after his attack. He hadn't moved! He hadn't threatened the snake in any way. There was no logical reason for the attack.

The realization hit him moments before the snarling ball of fur knocked him to the ground--he was being hunted.

This simple fact slowly sunk in as he slipped into unconciousness, the creatures of the desert filling him with their venom.

[Clea Darkrunner]

As she saw him sinking, she called off the little brothers. The viper was soothed, the scorpion brushed back, and she called the little kaylath to her. She petted it, stroking its fur, purring softly at it until it forgot its anger, and turned in her arms, batting playfully at her weather hood with its sharp little claws. As she looked back at the intruder, she was surprised to see that he still breathed, his breath moving puffs of sand away from his body. Usually, intruders died within minutes of meeting the little ones.

Usually, she realized, intruders killed some of the little ones as they died. Her allied kaylath's mother had died so, a smoking, scorching ball of fur, and the watcher had raised the litter as best she could, but all but one had died.

But this intruder had killed none. Had, in fact, merely brushed them away, before the venom started to get to him.

This needed further investigation. She set the kaylath down, and it glided off to hunt.

After an hour, it became apparent that the venom was taking long, long to kill him. She started to move in to finish the kill, but paused.

"Let the sun finish him," she thought to herself, and settled down, wary yet wondering how long he would last. He did not cease breathing as the heat reached its peak, and so she sat in a curious vigil, needing to confirm his death. He was not of the Desert, and so the Desert would kill him.

-------------------------------------------------------------

OOC: At this point, the Watcher is visible, but out of armreach - close to cover, if she needs it.

[Ebon Dir]

Slowly, he emerged from the blackness, clawing his way back to conciousness. He wasn't dead. Experimentally he tried to move; pain wracked his body and he was overcome by a wave of nausea. In the back of his mind, he secretly wished he was dead.

The attack had come so quickly, so unexpectedly, he had been unable to react, his mind refusing to accept the situation. Animals of the desert simply didn't act like that; some outside force must have been guiding them. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had been paralyzed with uncertainty and fear. Years spent in musty libraries had dulled his senses and now he was paying the price.

It was hot, very hot. He couldn't figure out if it came from his fevered body or the baking sun. Whatever it was, it would soon prove his undoing; the weequay blood flowing through his veins may have saved him from the venom, but the heat would cook him alive before he could take advantage of his reprive.

Thankfully, he slipped back into the darkness after a few short minutes.

[Clea Darkrunner]

As the evening shadows started to slip bluely across the dunes, the Watcher stirred again. Like the animals of the deep desert, she had not moved during the high-heat, resting in the shade created by her garments and the thin shadows of the dunes. Now, as it shifted toward the evening, she roused from her trance.

Rising to her feet, she walked toward the intruder. His breath was not slowed or stopped, she noted. In fact it was faster. Closing with him cautiously, she sensed that he presented no real threat- to anything.

As the sun slid over the horizon, she was sitting by his side, and still he did not die. She grew curious as to what the strange bandages concealed, sat him up, and began to remove them from his face. The last rays of the sun revealed his face, flushed, hot, and sweating, unconscious but still alive. She laid him back down, cushioning his head on his removed bandages, and considered her options. After a while she nodded to herself, in the dark. Reaching back to her supplies, she removed a small water flask and carefully dribbled a small amount into his mouth, drip by drop. She felt him swallow. Two mouthfuls, she allowed him - the same as that allowed to one of the People. If he was strong, he would live. If not....

She shrugged, her face and hands still covered against the elements, and sat by him, determined to see the matter through.

[Clea Darkrunner]

In the middle of the cold desert night he stirred. The Watcher looked up from where she had been sitting, drowsing in the chill evening. Carefully, she dislodged some of the "little brothers" who had gathered next to her to share her warmth, then stood and walked the few paces to his side. He was shivering, slightly.

It appeared that he was not to die, after all. That being the case, she felt that he was owed SOME shelter.

[Clea Darkrunner]

Working swiftly, she erected a shelter for them both from the lightweight components she carried. A Heat-cube was pulled out of one pocket, and a super-folded tent out of another. Having erected the tent over him, she entered, and wrapped her cloak around his still-shivering form. Curling up in the unaccustomed warmth, she was soon asleep.

[Ebon Dir]

Were he more aware of his situation, he may have been a little upset. The denizens of the desert had done a thorough job, their venom still coursing through his veins. He was at the edge of the abyss that lay at the edges of life, but he hung on. If that precipice were the place were people were said to have “near death experiences” he had been cheated. There were no prophetic visions of the future, no wistful recallings of the past, no ghostly specters of friends and family long dead…there was simply a melancholy grayness and the fire of the fever that burned through his body. And it seemed to have been there forever.

All in all, it was a rather diappointing experience.

He awoke with a panic start, his mind racing, but his body still essentially paralyzed. After assuring himself that he was indeed alive, he began to cautiously take in his surroundings. It was dark, but there were no stars. Wait, no, it was not clouds that blanked out the stars, but some sort of fabric…he could hear it softly ruffle in the wind. The desert air, normally bitterly cold, was warm to the touch. Clearly he was not alone…ahh, there it was--nearby he could here the soft, measured breaths of his companion. Was this the person who had attacked him? Had he or she sent the creatures to destroy him? No, that made no sense; it was this person who had likely saved him. Perhaps the person who slept near had fought off his attacker, saving Ebon for some unknown reason. Then again, perhaps he was truly dead and this was all part of some twisted deity’s idea of an afterlife.

He tried to rise but his muscles wouldn’t respond. He tried to talk, but all that came from his parched throat was a strangled moan. He fervently hoped this wasn’t the afterlife—it would be a pretty lackluster way to spend eternity

[Clea Darkrunner]

She rose, and he felt a small measure of water carefully trickled into his mouth. His eyes were open, she noted, and they looked at her, tried to track her but failed. In that, the little brothers' poisons still held sway. Silently, she put a hand on his face, carefully closing his eyes, mentally bidding him <Rest > as she would a tribesman.

He was not yet out of danger, but it appeared he would live. - if he did not try and fight the poison, but let it run its course.

[Solidus]

((This a free RP, or do I have to do something?))

A man stood atop a stone ridge a ways away, a slugthrower longrifle across his back and a vibrosword dangled from his belt. He wore a leather jerkin, pants, and a cloak made of animal skins, the inside made of furs.

He took off his hat and looked at the small light in the distance. He came here, because he saw light, but no one else did. He came to get away from people, and had lived on the planet for several years. His tanned, weather-beaten face hid the two amethyst orbs that others called his eyes.

He lived off the land, never taking any more than needed to live, as he moved from place to place, enjoying the silence, the solace.

He put the hat back on and climbed down from the small cliff.

[Clea Darkrunner]

The Watcher meditated while she waited for the man to awaken.

It was not an unaware state. She felt the movement of the little brothers, their small lives as they skittered across the sand, eating and being eaten. She knew herself to be part of this Web, and knew that some day she would form food for the little ones of the Sand - Watchers were not buried, except by the winds of the desert, and were left to go back to the carbon-cycle that is Life.

She thought, briefly of the treasures of the Ancient Ones that she and others like her guarded. It was not to be disturbed, this treasure. She would kill - had killed - in its defense.

[Solidus]

The grizzled sniper set up camp a ways away. He made a fire, and laid out a blanket next to it. The fire snapped and crackled merrily as he sat down in front of it.
His eyes became passive as he stared into the fire thoughtfully, lost in his memories.

[Ebon Dir]

"Thank you."

The whispered phrase shattered the silence.

He was alive, though it seemed to him like he had been teetering on the edge for months (woo, breaking the fourth wall). The poison had run it's course, leaving behind aching muscles, a broken body and a mind filled with more questions than it could hold. Rather than trying to rise, the man simply remained on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He would rise, in time. But for now he was content enjoying the simple pleasure of drawing breath.

[Clea Darkrunner]

"Rest." said the Watcher. "The Sand did not claim you this time. If you rest, the Sand will not claim you. It is your choice, of course. Your choice and the will of the Force."

Her hands drew symbols as she spoke, a slight blue glow following them. The symbols were a throwback to older traditions in the Jedi, traditions of symbol and sign, of sigil and sense.