A walk in the woods (Kytarra Hawk)

[Samuel Malkloc]

The jungle was endless. Samuel had been practically wandering aimlessly for an hour or two, slowly moving uphill. He had no particular destination. He had decided to walk. So he started walking. His staff, serving as a walking stick, hit the ground ahead of him with every step, checking for creeper vines, molehils, sinkholes. Last time he'd tried to take a walk, he's broken his ankle. Time before that, some lizardy thing he didn't reconize tried to attack him. This time, he was staying alert. His eyes scanned the path- if you coudl call it that, it was more like a Rancor trail- ahead of him, making sure to catch any obstacles that his staff missed. He was prepared for a rabid animal, quicksand, and half a dozen other things. What he wasn't expecting, however, was to look up and see a small hut ahead of him. That was enough to stop him in his tracks. He'd walked in the jungle a dozen times or so, he'd never seen it before... Then again, he'd never gotten this far without having to go back. He was cautious, with good cause. Most of the... we'll say friendly, Dathomirans lived in villages or towns. The ones that lived in huts out int he middle of nowhere? Either crazy Nightsister sorcerers, physcotic serial killers, or some exile. None of those were people he particularly wanted to meet. However; he was curious. And that curiosity is what caused him to keep walking forwards, studying the hut with every step.

He sincerely hoped a deranged exiled something-or-other didn't pop out and try to kill him.

[member="Kytarra Hawk"]

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

As soon as [member="Samuel Malkloc"] closed in on the small hutt, the earth would seem to tremble under him. It would start like a heavy rumble, just barely strong enough to scatter the pebbles upon the undergrowth of jungle beside him. Thick, heavy, and resonating.

A flock of large birds would suddenly flap their wings as they would go airborne, dark tiny shadows sending leaves and twigs scattering round in sudden seemingly fright, their cries echoing with an eerie forebearing that would chill to the bone.

Thump.

Within the mist that would linger about the jungle, the sound of sharp talons would scrap across dark slate, as yet again, another loud heavy step would send the earth to tremble.

A dark looming shadow would break the dark of the jungle, as thick forest green leaves would part and crack, beholding the behemoth behind him. The snort and hiss of a flat bone plate of a nose would send streams of mist down, as the tiny beady eyes of a massive matron Rancor would seemingly glower down at the jai.

Thump.

Sharp fangs and deadly claws from the small arms that hung under that massive skull would bare, as a low rumbling growl would bubble forth from expansive lungs and that wide mouth, turning into a massive roar that could shake bones.

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel's hand tightened on his staff as he slowly looked up to the source of the rumbling and thumping. This certainly wasn't what he was expecting to live in the hut. A lunatic witch? Sure. Maybe a couple of canablistic headhunting Nightbrothers? Wouldn't be the first time. A rancor? Not quite. The Jai took a few steps back, not making any sudden movements or anything to provoke the creature. He'd learned that that rancors were a lot more intelligent then then he'd originally thought. Among the Witches, they were practically thought of as people. Very large, scary, man-eating, people. Which meant the Rancor probably wasn't going to attack him out of nowhere.... probably. Nevertheless, he stepped back slowly, watching the beast for any sign of attack. "Not here to cause problems.... I'll be moving along...." He wasn't sure if it could understand speech. Some of the witches claimed they could, but... Come on. They're giant monsters. The funny thing was, he wasn't even worried the most about the Rancor. A rancor that just happened to be lurking around a hut in the middle of the jungle? He was still suspicious of what actually lived in the hut. And the thing about physco Nightsisters and Witches is; they tend to have very large, scary, man eating pets.

[member="Kytarra Hawk"]

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]


A deep cackle would come barking out from the right of the Jai, the shadowy figure of a hunched over woman shaking in her mirth.

"Dhat what you dhink, maleling?" came her rather scratchy question, as the Rancor drew closer to the male. It gave a large huff, as what pass off as a bony flat nose gave twin puffs of exhale.

"No trouble, eh?" a large walking stick seemingly used for balance would stab the earth as she drew near. Rays of light would fall over her, revealing the dreadlocked white hair first. Then came the bathing of light over her wizened face, thick slabs of blue paint smeared across it. Leaves and twigs would poke out of her hair, and as she spoke, one could see the blackened teeth, dyed by berries that signified her status.

"Dhen why you be wanderin alone... " her eyes would pan around as if searching, "Where be ya mistress?"

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel just about jumped out of his skin. He jumped a few inches off the ground, spun around, and nearly swung his staff at [member="Kytarra Hawk"] as she appeared out of nowhere, on pure reflex. He stopped, however, when he saw her. Crazy hermit nightsister, one of his three guesses. Samuel looked back and forth between the hermit witch, or so he assumed she was, and the giant Rancor. Which way would be better to make a run for it, if he had to. Rancor would eat him. Witch would probably kill him. If he went back the way he came, they could get him in the back. Samuel's fingers tightened on his own walking stick as she asked where his 'mistress' was, but he answered nontheless. If they were having a friendly chat, she probably wasn't going to try and kill him.

"Just walking... Alone." He stressed the last word, to signify that he wasn't with a 'Mistress'. "Didn't know any..." Crazy hermits? "Witches..." Lurked? "Lived up here." He glanced at the Rancor again, before looking back to the Witch.

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]

Kytarra's eyebrows rose just a hair at that revelation, and the Rancor took a step closer to the male, as if to prevent him from leaving.

"Alone ya be, eh?" came her commentary, as she slowly used the malrass bone walking stick to hobble on closer. White dreadlocks entangled with bits of bone, leaves, and polished stones would sway against her angular sunken face. She was a mass of contradictions. On one hand appearing to be naught but an old woman, but the manner by which sinew and bone would hold under that walking stick suggested that everything was in the eye of the beholder.

A cackle came next at his next words. Blackened teeth would bare in a rather wide Nexu cat grin, "Dhere be daugthers of Allya in all places Jai." she would say, and in this her words would resonate with power. Thump, thump, thump. She drew closer.

"But wandering malelings....dhat be rare -- much less, foolish ones to wander off alone..." there was a rather ominous sound to that.

"For lest they be claimed by dhose who would stumble upon you."

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel glanced at the Rancor, tightening his grip on the wooden staff in his left hand until his knuckles were about as white as [member="Kytarra Hawk"]'s hair. Fantastic. A hermit witch that looked like she'd been crawling through a field of brambles with a staff made out of something's- or someone's- bones threatening him. And between the fact that she had a pet Rancor, and the fact that she was just plain creepy, Samuel had no doubt she could accomplish her threats. And beat him to death with her staff while ripping him apart with Magic. Or some variation thereof. She looked frail enough he may overpower her physically, but... Physically didn't really matter. Best method of getting out of their without getting his skin flayed off and used as a bodysuit? Keep talking until it's safe to run. Samuel took a slow step back.

"Claimed? I'm sure there's plenty of other..." Idiots who thought a walk in the woods might be relaxing? "People to- err- claim... No need for a scrawny...Maleling..." He almost gagged on the word, but managed to choke it out. Samuel's eyes glanced back and forth, looking for any way he could make a run for it where he wouldn't either get eaten by a Rancor, or murdered in a variety of surely imaginitive ways. He was pretty sure she was some lunatic exiled Witch that preyed on travellers... Where had he heard that before?

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]

Thump. Thump. Thump.

That steady tattoo of her staff grew louder as she drew closer. Enter the slow throaty cackle in amusement.

"Scrawny, eh?" her grip drew tight around the shaft of her staff, lifting it up easily to poke at his rips with the tip of it, almost as if to test his so called claim.

The rancor would close in from behind the maleling, as if herding him towards Kytarra.

"Dhere be some meat on dhem bones... likely tastey too." a seemingly manic expression would dance across her face, taunting the wandering male.

"Come now.... let us dake a closer look, no?" it was then that the most melodic of chants came flowing from her mouth, the staff rattling as she made a gesture of her hand that ended in a pull. Power would surge and flux; ancient and primal. A tingling sensation would flow to thicken the area round them and settle upon the vines and leaves that cluttered the undergrowth.

Life stirred within those verdant vines, a call to the Winged Goddess. A form of plant surge that would stimulate growth as those vines would take on a life of their own, manipulated by the shaman to start to weave against the malelings legs to hold him fast and intend to bring him to her.

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel slapped the staff away at it poked at his ribs, scowling. He backed up quickly, but was met with hot breath down the back of his neck. He slowly craned his head back, to see the face of a rather large Rancor behind him. Fantastic. Stuck between a canaballisitc physcopath and a hungry rancor. The Jai opened his mouth to speak when [member="Kytarra Hawk"] begun to chant. That was never good, when a Witch started chanting. That's how they used Magic. The symbols etched onto Samuel's staff began to glow a bright orange in response to the power radiating from the Witch. And then vines started crawling out of the jungle at Samuel's legs.

Yep. Maniacal Witch.

Samuel had virtually no training in Magic. He was trained before he left the Nightsisters, but only barely, and everything he had learned their was forbidden with the Aaylan Witches. And he'd learned virtually nothing Magic-related with the Dathomiri witches, as of yet. Unwilling to train him, due to where he came from, probably. Nontheless, Magic was probably the only way to get out of this. The vines were up his legs before he had a chance to move away from them. He raised a hand, and spouting basically gibberish. It was meant to be words of Magic, maybe something to conjure fire to burn away the vines... Nothing happened. The vines were creeping up his thighs. Plan B.

Samuel grabbed his staff in both hands, and swung it like a club at the Witch's stained teeth.

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

Her cackle would seem to echo as what manner of manipulation she wielded would not be held at bay [member="Samuel Malkloc"]'s attempts to avoid the unavoidable.

While he did manage to strike, pull and break several of the vines, they would only keep coming. Reaching out like fingers to encircle his legs, curve up his thighs, and even attempt to reach for the stick he was trying to use against it.

"Dhere be no fightin' dis maleling," Kytarra would squeeze out through blackened teeth, that grin ever wider with growing satisfaction.

"I hereby claim you as mine." She said, nodding. "Captured by my hand rightly so, to be witnessed by my sisters once we travel to the clan."

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

This wasn't working. The vines climbed up his staff like grasping tentacles, soon making it useless to help clear his legs. Within moments, the creepers had wrapped around his legs and up his waist, making escape impossible. Fantastic. Even if he was able to escape, he was beginning to have doubts he could outrun a Rancor. Samuel stopped his struggling abruptly as he heard that she was planning on bringing him back to the clan. They'd see that he was captured by some exiled lunatic! What he didn't realize is what being 'claimed' by [member="Kytarra Hawk"] meant. Nor the fact that due to that, none of the Witches would help him.

So, with that ignornace, Samuel stopped struggling completely, a useless attempt anyway.

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

That cackle would wane, as the vines would complete their wind round [member="Samuel Malkloc"]'s legs and arms. That staff of his would also become entangled, leaving him for the most part, defenseless.

Kytarra would hobble on closer, until her face was but mere inches from his. Eyes glazed over like that of a dead fish would apraise him, while the Rancor behind him would finally settle down with twin huffs of air streaming from it's flat bony nose.

"Now what 'ave we 'ere," she would mutter, studying him like one would a prized Kwi.

"You 'ave a name, maleling?"

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel had to stop himself from smirking. The exiled Witch, or so he assumed, was just going to deliver him right back home. She'd captured him only to giev him back. ...Ignorance was bliss. He had virtually no idea what was happening, that [member="Kytarra Hawk"] basically owned him by Dathomiri law, now. His earlier fear had left him by now, now that he was just waiting to be delivered back to the clan. He figured the faster he appeased the insane Witch, the faster he'd get back to the clan. So he minds as well answer her questions.

"Samuel."

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]


"Sah-mu-ehl," came the roll of her tongue, black teeth flashing in the dark. "You shall do well." The vines would tighten around him like sinewy binds around his arms. Those along his feet would loosen to allow him to walk. She'd reach over to take his staff, and in this, a longer vine would be woven to provide a measure of a leash.

"Come Sah-mu-ehl," she told him, as she would tug him over towards the Rancor. A cluck of her tongue would bring the large beast to kneel in front of the witch, allowing her to climb on top to the back of her neck.

She gave another tug to the maleling then a tap over the bony plate over the Rancor's face. In a massive shudder, the rancor would rise.

"We ride."

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel clenched his teeth was the vines tightened, but made a point not to make any noise. The faster this got over with, the faster he'd get back to the village. He made a mental note not to take walks in the jungle alone anymore. He audibly ground his teeth as his staff was taken from him, but again made an effort not to say anything. He wouldn't let her see that she was annoying him. However, he kept his eyes on the staff, even as the vines weaved around his neck. Samuel only looked away from the staff to watch the Rancor kneel... A freaking Rancor kneeled down, and [member="Kytarra Hawk"] climb on. A moment later, he was being half-dragged up as well. He started to struggle, there was no way he was going to get on that thing, but realized that one way or another she'd probably make him. The faster he complied, the faster he'd get back to the village. So, rapidly looking back and forth from the Rancor's tooth filled maw, and the staff that still glowed faintly, he climbed on top of the beast... And jsut about fell off screaming when it stood up. It'll all be over soon...

Ignorance is bliss.

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]

And so they would be off, commencing the great trek that would lead them across the valley and up the sheer cliffs of Singing Mountain.

A rocking motion would follow with every heavy step the rancor would take, already the sounds of wildlife stirring in the dark filling the air. The air was thick and the jungle thicker still.

Kytarra would often glance over at the maleling, and finally in one of those moments, she spoke. "From which clan did you flee from, Sa-mu-ehl?"

 

[Samuel Malkloc]

Samuel struggled to hold onto the Rancor as it gallopped through the jungle, nearly falling off about half a million times. This day was interesting. Walk through the jungle. Find an apperantly abondoned hut. Almost get eaten by a Rancor. Find out the Rancor is owned by some kind of creepy exile hermit. Get captured by said creepy exile hermit. And then get delivered home gift wrapped in vines by the creepy exile hermit. Yes, an interesting day.

Samuel looked up at the witch as she spoke, nearly falling off the Rancor as it continued it's lurching walk. Flee? He didn't flee from anywhere... Maybe that's why the Witch had captured him? She thought he was an escaped slave, like many of the Witches still had? ... That would explain a lot.

"I didn't flee from anywhere..."


[member="Kytarra Hawk"]

 

[Kytarra Hawk]

[member="Samuel Malkloc"]

A cackle came from the witch. "So you say, maleling." it was clear the elder woman only saw his protests as amusements.

"Dhen, if you did not flee from any... dhen where you be from?" she'd ask, the great rancor underneath them rocking with every clawed step she took.