No good deed goes unpunished (open challenge to a Dark Sider)

[Draken Chakara]

The rhythmic thump of an axe splitting wood is heard throughout the forest. Draken stands next to a small cottege, doing chores of various sorts for the woman who lives there. She is an older woman, and has not been able to get around as well as he once was. He finishes splitting and stacking the firewood and goes to the front door. The woman comes out to offer him a large container of water, which he drinks down gratefully.

"Thank you very much, ma'am." She attempts to offer him money for his work, but he quickly declines. "No, it was a pleasure. More than willing to help. If there's anything else you'd like me to...."

He pauses as he sees a sinister figure approching. The woman had mentioned such a person before, merely referring to the being as the "Dark One." From what he can gather, there has been an evil presence in this area, causing mayhem and destruction of the most wanton kind.

If he can stop this person, then it is his duty as a Jedi to do so. Taking up his warhammer, he quickly switches it on, covering it in its protective magnetic field. He does not armor himself just yet, just in case. No reason to provoke a fight if one is not necessary. He walks towards the figure.

"Excuse me... may I help you?"

[Morag Prime]

"Unless you have Dirthstricken Seed in your pocket which you can give me, then No."

Morag barely spared the man a glance of her soulless eyes. The Witch was busy seeking ingredients and had no time for chit chat.

[Draken Chakara]

The witch does not seem to be ready to fight at this exact moment, but for some reason he is still very wary around her.

"No... I fear I have no such item. Why would you search for such a thing?"

[Morag Prime]

Overhead, an owl hooted toward the pair below.

Morag swivelled her head to look up and then followed the gaze of the bird's amber eyes off into the distance, a little beyond the old woman's cottage.

She then looked at Chakara, taking a guess as to why he would be interested, and why he would be in the woods at all.

"You are curious for a....common woodsman.."

[Draken Chakara]

He keeps his hammer in a defensive posture just in case, but relaxes a bit since she has not attacked yet.

"I am not a woodsman by trade. I am a Jedi of the Order. I am helping the old woman in the cottage behind me. I have heard reports of an evil figure who has been causing a great deal of trouble in this area. Have you heard anything?"

[Morag Prime]

Morag smiled grimmly.

"I hear lots of things...I hear Jedi bleed yellow blood, is this true?"

Her mockery was obvious.

[Draken Chakara]

Draken can sense that this woman is dangerous, and immediately goes back on the defensive. And her comment about Jedi bleeding seems a thinly veiled threat to him. He decides to step this confrontation up slightly.

Concentrating, he summons the armor innate to his race. Unlike most of his brethren, though, he is able to maintain his armor for more than a few minutes. In a muted flash, the man is suddenly covered in a shining, metallic coating.

"You will find, madam, that it is hard to make some Jedi bleed at all. I will ask you once more... who are you and why are you here?"

[Morag Prime]

Morag shrank back with a venomous "hiss," sucking air back between her bared teeth.

She had done nothing to provoke such a response other than jibe at the man, yet this Jedi seemed bent on issuing his own brand of justice.

She moved around Chakara, creeping almost, her fingers extended fully so that she looked like some crazed dancer.

"I am seeking ingredients for my craft, Jedi. You wish to fight me over pollen and petals?"

Her voice had changed from its almost careless air to a hard, menacing tone.

[Draken Chakara]

He keeps his eyes on her, dropping into a guard. He turns slightly, continually facing her.

"I do not wish to fight you at all. Yet you seem to match the description of the woman who has been causing so much havoc of late, and your comments about bleeding Jedi were not appreciated. I merely ask you why you are here and what you are doing. If a fight is to be had, I will not be the one to start it."

[Morag Prime]

"Then lower your hammer, woodsman..."

Something in the witches eyes warned Chakara. Her fingers that had been extended and that he had ignored as just nervous wigglings as she moved, had infact been working a shapeshifting rune.

Even as she spoke the purple magic laced about the weapon.

"...unless you want it to bite you.."

The wooden shaft that the Jedi held in hand began to squirm as the hammer became a poisonous asp, its head snapping forward to strike with dripping fangs.

[Draken Chakara]

The sudden transformation of his warhammer leaves Draken more than slightly suprised. He can actually feel the snake writhing in his hands. Either this is an incredibly powerful illusion, or she has managed to turn his weapon into an actual snake.

His question is soon answered. So stunned by the transformation, he doesn't even have time to react as the serpent strikes at his chest. Lucky for Draken, he called his armor up before the fight began.

The snake hits his chest with a small thump, its fangs unable to pierce his armor.

"It seems that your snake doesn't much like me. Would you like him back?"

With that, Draken hurls the snake back at the woman, rushing in behind it.

[Morag Prime]

Morag scattered the runes of her spell upon the weapon, returning it to its original form.

The wieghted end caused the flight through the air to drop short of the Sorceress, but the rush of the Jedi continued unhindered.

Chakara crashed into the Prime, just as her hands came up to fend him off. They rose only in time to gouge toward the Jedi's eyes - her intent lethal, wanting to scratch them from his head.

[Draken Chakara]

He sees her clawed hands coming toward him out of the corners of his eyes. He closes his eyes simply by instinct. Though her claws cannot cut through the skin of his eyelids, the pressure generated is still very painful. The eyelids are not very thick, so the force from her fingers easily transfers through.

He cannot open his eyes for fear of her claws reaching his unarmored eyes, and he cannot get his hands up without releasing her. Instead, he simply continues moving forward and drives her into the ground. Once there, he tightens his arms around her, attempting to squeeze the air out of her.

[Morag Prime]

Morag stops wriggling - her smaller frame no match for the weight of the Jedi and his armor.

Like a deadly viper, she pauses waiting the right moment to strike.

[Draken Chakara]

The woman, for some strange reason, decides to stop moving. Not one to pass up a way to end this fight quickly, Draken acts. Still keeping his eyes closed, he raises his head and slams it down toward her unprotected face. If he's lucky, he'll be able to knock her out without doing any more damage to her. All the while, he continues to compress her torso, trying to squeeze the air out of the witch.

[Morag Prime]

His eyes were closed, but Morag's were not, and she saw his head lifted to hit her. She twisted her own head away, successfully avoiding the brunt of the headbutt, but still was clipped on the side. The blow however was no where near as effective as it could have been had it landed true.

Taking what little advantage as she could from the woodsman's shift of weight, the Prime followed through with a twist of her whole body, breaking slightly the pinning hold Chakara had on her. Lifting her shoulder from the ground, she brought herself up just a tad, bringing her lips close to his lowered head to speak lowly to his ear.


"Estoi non ami se noir cirrus"

Suddenly into Charkara's mind came a disorientation, black cloud came across his mental vision. He felt a dizziness of vague confusion and momentarily he did not quite remember where he was and why he was pinning someone to the forest floor..

[Draken Chakara]

His mind is suddenly a jumble of nothing. Totally disoriented, he rises to his feet, almost forgetting that he was even in a fight. He staggers a bit, trying to get his bearings.

Looking down, he sees his hammer, and sees it humming. *Hmmm...* he thinks to himself, *my hammer's on. I only turn it on when I'm fighting.* He reaches for the hammer, and as he takes it up, he notices that he is armored as well. *Now... I KNOW I only summon my armor when I'm fighting... so that means...*

He slowly turns around, wondering who on earth he was fighting. He sees the Prime, but for some reason can't bring to mind who she is or what she is doing.

As he looks at her, trying desparately to clear his head, he sees her moving her fingers in strange ways and uttering words he cannot comprehend. For some reason, the gesture looks familar and reminds him of danger. Just as she is about to complete the spell, it all clicks.

"A spell!"

He tries to react, bringing his hammer up before him, but it may be too late to stop her from casting again.

[Morag Prime]

"No! No! Dont hit me! Please!"

The voice was one he was familiar with, and when the frightened woman before him slowly brought down her arms that she had been cowering behind - he recognised the old lady from whose cottage he had recently left. No sign of Morag as Chakara searched the woods at a glance.

"The witch has gone - ran off. Please, Ive come to help you. Come back to the house, have something to eat. Be warmed and filled.."

High above them, the owl hooted.

[Draken Chakara]

Draken looks around him, thoroughly confused.

"She... she left? But... but where? How did she get away so quickly? Never mind... very well, madam. Lead on."

He waits respectfully for the older woman to go before him.

[Morag Prime]

Morag led him directly to the old cottage - she had been there many times before.

They stepped into the front room, Draken having to stoop to avoid hitting his head on the crossbeam.

"Sit, sit. I'll get you something to eat."

She shuffled further into the little house, and a moment or two later he heard a frightened gasp and then arguing.

Standing and crossing over to the kitchen, Chakara was stunned to see double of the old woman standing either side of a broiling pot.

The two crones pointed a knotted finger each at the other.

"She's the witch!"

[Draken Chakara]

This is turning out to be a quandry indeed. He ponders for a few moments before coming to a solution. He moves over to the two women.

"Excuse me ladies... I am terribly sorry to do this, but..."

With a great deal of care, he lifts both women off of the ground by their coats. His Force-enhanced strength coupled with his already powerful frame allows him to hold them up with ease. His plan is simple. Whichever woman fails his question, he will fling to the other side of the room. In case the witch happens to be a mind reader, he focuses his concentration on keeping a mind reader out. He has very litte strength on the mental side of the Force, but this should delay the witch long enough for the true woman to answer.

"Now... tell me. What is my name?"

[Morag Prime]

Morag did not wait for the woman on her left to answer, instead she reached out her hand and struck at the old womans throat. Her body looked like that of a bent old crone, but she had the strength of her natural state.

Morag, in truth, was centuries older than the woman beside her, but through her sorceries and dark art practices had kept her youth at the cost of many a young maids life. Her nails broke the soft wrinkled skin of the old woman, and Morag's eyes sparked dangerously at the Jedi.



"Release me now, or the woman dies"

[Draken Chakara]

Draken nods slowly.

"Very well..."

He puts both women down VERY slowly, but lets go of the real old woman who was in his left hand. He lets go of the witch as well, but only curls his hand into a fist behind her back. His left hand as well makes a fist, but it is still covered behind her back. Moving as quickly as he possibly can, he places his left fist directly in front of the witch's chest as his right fist is already aimed at her back. He fires two Force Blasts, one from each fist. The Blast is much like a Force Push, only compressed into a single, near momenary shot. The two Blasts converge on the woman's torso. With luck, it will be stunning enough to allow the woman to escape.

[Morag Prime]

Morag collapses to the floor in a heap, and the old woman squeals in delight.

"kill her, Jedi knight! Kill her quickly!"

[Draken Chakara]

Draken grabs his hammer quickly, trying to buy time to figure out what to do.

"What? Never! I do not kill."

He reaches down to take hold of Morag Prime. Looking around, he quickly finds some rope. He binds her hands behind her, making sure to bind her fingers as well. He finds a piece of cloth and stuffs it into her mouth as well. He cannot allow her to cast spells as he attempts to transport her.

He turns to regard the old woman.

"I will transport her to the local authorities. She shall not bother you again."

[Morag Prime]

The enchantress had fallen to the floor in a heap, but was not unconscious, and as the Jedi found rope to bind her, Morag had set up defence wards about her person.

The learning of these wards were part of a beginner innitiates first steps, and the Prime had long ago mastered them. To be an effective spell caster, one must keep their self free from any rune entanglements and inadvertantly ensare themselves in the process of a spell. Safety wards cast a protective covering over the innitiate, insulating them against harmful effects - they acted as almost a second skin or mystic clothing.

The ropes that bound the Prime were tied snug, but not as tight as the Jedi believed. Where normally, flesh would chaff against such bindings, Morags did not, and she had some wriggle room - very slight as it was. With her infinite patience, she would chose the right moment to press some advantage of this slack.

For now, she would have to be content to let the Jedi have the burden of getting her to a transport.

[Draken Chakara]

Draken takes up the witch onto his shoulder and starts the long trek back toward the city. It is only a couple of miles, and in his physical condition, he should not have trouble carrying her.

He takes up his hammer with his left hand and throws the woman over his right. As he walks, he watches carefully to see if she comes to.

[Morag Prime]

Hanging limply over Draken's shoulder, Morag did her best imitation of a sack of wheat. The Jedi was unaware that she had not yet been out of consciousness.

The languid sway of her body as the huge man walked disguised her moving hands as the Prime deftly worried her ropes, gradually loosening them.


By the time they had arrived, hanging behind Draken's back, the sorceress' s bindings were so loose as for her to be almost free.

[Draken Chakara]

The task of carrying the witch nearly complete, Draken stops for a moment to rest. He places the woman down gently and stretches for a moment. He has long since dropped his armor, as he cannot hold the armor for more than an hour or so. As he stretches, he wonders why the woman has not regained conciousness yet. Perhaps he used too much force on her when he disabled her earlier. Cautiously, warhammer in hand, he advances on the woman, checking her condition. He does not want to be tricked, but he must be sure she is not seriously injured.

[DarthHERA]

rats.

[Morag Prime]

Morag remains in a passive posture, curled on the ground where Draken had placed her.

Her hands hidden underneath her body, still have the rope around them, albeit loose.


Between her fingers she twines a thread she'd nimbly plucked from Drakens clothing while hanging over his back, a solitary hair she had tugged from his head while he laid her on the ground, together, with a strand of her own fine silk hem.

As the Jedi approached, he realised she was quite conscious, as a low murmering reached him even from her turned back, but her manner was so placid, she gave him no cause for alarm

[Draken Chakara]

As he nears the downed witch, he can hear her murmering lightly. Maybe she's coming to. Holding his warhammer in his left, he starts to reach forward with his right to turn her toward him.

Suddenly, he stops. This woman is crafty. He won't be fooled a second time. He pulls back and summons up his armor once more. With his warhammer raised to strike, he circles the woman until he is in front of her face.

[Morag Prime]

When the Jedi finally squares around to look Morag face to face, he sees in her eyes an ancient guile in their black pools and a sly smile creeps across her lips.

"You are wise to be wary..but lower your hammer, I am harmless"

[Draken Chakara]

He grips his hammer even more tightly.

"Madam... if anything, you are indeed dangerous. I will not be caught unawares again."

[Morag Prime]

"I am the captive here, I would point out."

Draken needed to be cautious. Morag was the Prime of an Ancient order of spellbinders. But spell craft needed time to be effected. Certainly, one could do a quick fix - but that was exactly all it could be..a quick fix. A lasting, more effective syphering required precision crafting and delicate balance.

And Morag was designing something against her Jedi friend to last ....

"But keep your hammer raised against me, if you are more comfortable that way.."

[Draken Chakara]

"Indeed I shall. In fact, let's check those bindings of yours to be sure they are secure..."

Moving around behind her, Draken cautiously moves toward her bindings. He keeps his hammer in his left hand, ready to strike at the first sign of treachery. He checks the bindings, resecuring and tightening them where necessary.

[Morag Prime]

The ropes were snugged up once more and while Draken was crouched, Morag's owl circled high overhead.

Lifting dark eyes upward, Morag mouthed the Kiett word for "heather-spore." The feathered hunter wheeled to the right and beat its grey-flecked wings to carry it on its bidden task. The Owl looked no different than any of its brethren, but was not nocturnal as they were. Raised from a fledgling by the Prime, the creature was drenched in sorcery runes and was more than a servant of Morag - it was a counterpart. A fellow mystic.

The bird of prey would return to the enchantress, bringing with it the heather-spore, the necessary ingredient that would work a charm on the Jedi as he had never experience before.

Morag would bide her time. She was conducting a different fight than the Jedi obviously was used to if that waving hammer was anything to go by. And it was to her advantage that she did so.

She smiled darkly as she watched Chakara at work on the bindings.

"The judgement of the self-righteous - it is a terrible thing to look upon, Jedi. A terrible thing."

[Draken Chakara]

"You have not yet been judged. You have simply attacked a Jedi without just cause, and have been arrested because of it. I will take you to the authorities, and THEY will judge you."

He reaches down and releases the bindings on her ankles. He then helps her to her feet. She may be under his custody, but since he is a Jedi, he reasons that he should at least be courteous.

"Since you are concious again, I think you should walk for the rest of the way. Please move in front of me."

[Morag Prime]

She walked ahead obediently as instructed, but tossed over her shoulder to the Jedi as he followed along behind her.

"Waving your war hammer at people you meet in the woods is not a good habit if you dont wish them to respond with hostility. I will tell your Jedi Inquisitors as much when I meet them."

[Draken Chakara]

The Jedi almost laughs at the woman's 'threat.' Surely she must be joking.

"Madam... you attack me with a snake just for questioning you, you have been accused of several evil deeds in this area, you have cast spells on me to decieve me... and you ask that I not keep my weapon at the ready? I am not a fool.

"Nor is the Council. And for the record, we do not have inquisitors. We trust each other. And I hardly think they would fault me for simply being wary."

He continues walking behind her, more wary than previously. She was trying to shame him into dropping his defenses... she must have something planned, then.

[Morag Prime]

A thin smile parted Morag's lips as Draken defended both himself and his Order.

He was just like a trigger, primed and waiting to be sprung. He would play right into her hands.

She kept walking obediently, the Jedi following warily behind.

[Draken Chakara]

Draken follows the woman, ready to see if she attacks. He cannot help but lower his guard as she continues to merely trudge along. He starts slightly as a large bird flies overhead, only to land on her shoulder. He can tell the bird is an owl, but why a wild creature should land on a human is very strange... unless...

"Is that your bird? If so, what is it doing?"

[Morag Prime]

"The bird is my companion"

She stroked the speckle-feathered neck in affection as the creature perched atop her shoulder, allowing the heather-spore to drop from its hooked beak unseen into her palm.

"Thankyou, little sister" she whispered to her.

She raised her voice once again for the Jedi's benefit.

"She aids me and sometimes is my window to things I cannot see with my earthly eyes."

[Draken Chakara]

Draken is at a loss as to how to reply. He does, however, realize that she has yet to give him a satisfactory answer.

"That's all well and good... but what is she doing here?"

[Morag Prime]

"She is here for the same reason I am - to gather herbs and ingredients"

Morag's voice held a chill in it now. His suspcions, while not unfounded, were annoying.

"Or perhaps you'd like to fabricate a reason she is here that better suits you"

Before Chakara could answer, Morag lifted her head and sniffed.

"The twilight air closes - it will be dark in a while. Will we need to make camp?"

[Draken Chakara]

He continues to be suspicious of the woman.

"You can berate me all you wish, but I harken back to an old saying: 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' There is no folly in being cautious."

He thinks about her next comment for a moment.

"I would rather not camp for the night. We can rest for a bit, if you wish."

[Morag Prime]

"No folly, no folly" she parroted, flashing a mocking smile his way.

"A short rest is enough. No need to stay long"

Without further direction from the Jedi, Morag took a seat on the ground, her back resting against the rough wood of a thick tree trunk.

[Draken Chakara]

Draken lets her jibe go as he takes a seat across from her. His armor is once more off, but he is still wary... more so since the bird's arrival.

"Very well. If we are not going to stay the night, we should not rest too long, though. The night is swiftly approaching."

[Morag Prime]

"mm, the night is close"

Her voice was but a soft murmer.

Pale fingers crushed the heatherspore,sprinkling the fine dust between index digit and thumb to coat the fine strands of hair and thread still held in the witch's hand, hidden still in the folds of her garment.

The two coils from Chakara, entwined within Morag's own thread linked him to her through her spell craft, and the effects of the ensorcled heather-spore began to make the Jedi unnaturally drowsy.

Morag lifted the talisman she had made toward her mouth, chanting softly over it.

Draken leaned forward a little, peering in the fast fading light to see what Morag was doing.

The sorceress blew softly, the loose particles of spore lifting to the air. Guided by her crafted runes, they drifted toward Chakara to which he breathed them in with every inhale/exhale of his lungs.

"you are feeling sleepy, master Jedi" it was both a question and command in one and dark wicked eyes watched him closely.

The owl sat as a statue on her mistress shoulder, blinking amber orbs in the twilight.

[Draken Chakara]

He nods almost involuntarily. He is indeed sleepy... strangely so. He speaks, but is more muttering to himself than to the witch across from him.

"Perhaps I did not get enough sleep last night... as well, it has been a trying day... but why am I tired so soon, just when she spoke of..."

He does not even complete the sentence as the realization strikes him. His eyes widen... she must be using a spell on him! He realizes that he does not have much time. He must attack before she takes him down entirely. He rises on somewhat shaky legs and lunges forward, hammer raised to strike. Unfortunately, he had not realized his situation until it was far too late. As he steps forward to strike, all strength leaves his body. Eyes rolling up in his head, the big Jedi topples to the ground, hammer slipping from his senseless fingers.

[Morag Prime]

Morag watched the Jedi keenly as the slow sluggish dawning of revelation peirced the spell-fog of his thoughts revealing to him her snare.

She sat very still as the big man lurched toward her, only for him to fall short with a heavy thud unconscious to the ground, his mighty hammer releasing from his fingers to rest beside him.

A second's breath, as a momentary thrill of success excited her and then, with a short crouching hop, Morag craned forward on her haunches to inspect the Jedi more closely. Satisfied her spell had sunk him deep into slumber, the sorceress got quickly to her feet.

Reaching up, she broke off a craggy branch from the tree she had been leaning against and, confirming it had a pointed enough end, she traced with it a circle in the ground around Draken.

Bordering his form in a thin line which divided Draken from his hammer beside his hand - he inside the drawn circle, his possession without. Then standing back, Morag spoke her incantation. The outline marked in the ground sprang up into unnatural fire - white hot and feirce, hungry with the drive of sorcery. Inside its brilliant conflagaration, the Jedi warrior lay sleeping as the flames stretched tall around him.

"Come little sister" Morag said to the owl whose eyes reflected the brilliant blaze, "time for haste"

Morag turned and hurried to make her escape into the woods and the settling darkness, even as the flames encroached toward Draken within the confines of the circle. It would only take moments before the creeping flames- so eager to lick at the boots of his feet and singe his hair, and the searing heat so determined to blister his hands, and melt clothing to skin - would devour all in its confined reach with its insatiable lust, to finally peel tortured flesh from charred bone and claim life as its conquest.

"..yes, little sister, we must make haste.."

[Draken Chakara]

The smoke and heat nearly stir Draken from his magically induced slumber. However, the spell is strong and Draken's resistance is not the strongest, by a long shot. When the flames finally lick at his heels, however, the slight burn quickly brings him back to conciousness, the pain getting through the spell. He rises quickly and realizes that the circle of flames is closing in quickly. He cannot jump the high flames... Force Jumps have never been his strength. Instead, he relies on sheer power.

He summons his armor once more, and then aims both fists at the ground just in front of the fire. He plans to disrupt the path of the flames and try to escape in that window. He concentrates and launches a rather strong Force blast into the ground, and quickly dives toward the outside of the flames. The disruption coupled with the strength of his natural armor help immensely. He escapes the flames almost unscathed. The armor, innate to his race for dealing with solar flares, is rather resistant to heat.

Once free of the flame trap, he scoops up his warhammer and heads back to the old woman's cottage. He has no idea where the witch went... but his first and foremost duty is to protect the innocent.