Darth Rixas
Unto the Knife
Azal sat with deadly patience as he watched the hunter 20 feet away from him spit onto the ground, wave annoying pests from his face and take a sip from his container. He looked bothered, as he looked deep within the cave before him. Azal narrowed his eyes at the strange man before him, studying him more closely. From behind the shrubs, Azal could see that he was lean, in shape, and knew how to use the weapons he'd pursed to himself for this trip. Azal couldn't quite understand what drew hunters to this jungle world. Were the Vong so famed for their fierceness and vigilance in battle that others thought it to be a challenge to come and fight them? How foolish.
He would not find whom he was looking for. Azal found him quite easily. The men who came here for the thrill of fighting Vong were clumsy...and loud.
"Talk to me, buddy!” The man yelled into the cave.
Azal looked at the hunter, then down to his hand at the scattergun he was holding. His hands raised the weapon and his finger contracted on the trigger. He fired off a shot for no reason, the ammo flew at amazing speeds, lodging holes in the wall of the cave in the vicinity of the unexpected visage, sending hardened clay, dirt, and insects in all directions. Azal looked on, wandering why he did it. Perhaps he was testing his weapon? Or maybe he was simply nervous. The man lit a torch, and instantly the pestering bugs scattered away from him and he eased tentatively forward. The long void in front of him was dark and uncaring. At first glance he probably contemplated whether the hollow was natural or had been excavated. Azal watched him as he eased into the cave and rose from his hiding spot to silently pursue him inside.
Azal tread on clouds as he followed the hunter inside. This cave in particular was Azal's own spot. He'd spend nights here when he didn't feel like being in his home. He loved nature and the jungle, and he found life adventurous being both the hunter and sometimes the hunted, although the latter was carried out by enemy domains. He continued to follow the torch until it stopped. Apparently he'd come across his ceremonial section. It was where he killed animals, offered them and their hearts to Yun-Yuuzhan and consumed them. Although the consummation wasn't completely necessary, Azal did it to please his own sense of survival in his solitude.
Azal heard the man as air he'd previously sucked in went out of him in tandem with tension when he saw a strung Beast hanging from the ceiling. It had been neatly and efficiently quartered before being hung from the roof of the cave by its massive right arm. Blood dripped softly into a collection pail. Neither the pail nor the smartly butchered condition of the massive corpse suggested that the bloody work had been carried out with any specific research in mind. There was a gape in it's chest, and it's entrails were missing, evident of the gash in the beast's midsection. None of the parts were lying on the ground, so Azal assumed that it led the hunter to believe someone had eaten them. Which he did.
The hunter vomited, and sounded as if he were going to heave over just from exertion.
"All that wasted water." Azal said in his native yet hushed tone
He looked on as the man continued to examine the cave after he finished wasting water and food. Additional artifacts scattered around the cave hinted that someone hereabouts had exerted knowledgeable efforts with the aim of personal survival. A slight movement made the Hunter turn sharply and raise the scattergun, but this time he didn’t shoot. As he shifted the torch, its light touched on a second strung-up figure. From his surprised stance, Azal guessed that he recognized it immediately: his partner. Azal heard the man make a sound of pity, a whimper.
Azal looked at the two men as they got closer. One was hung from the cave's ceiling, just as the beast was 10 feet away. The man whom was strung up said something. "David..."
"What a strange name..." Azal said to himself as he rose from his crouched position and started running towards him, in his right hand a razorbug was gripped. The small living biots were usually used as projectiles, but Azal's love for close quarters combat led him to learn to wield them as a human would utilize their own daggers and knives.
David leaned closer to hear what he was saying. “Behind you . . .”
"Behind...?"
David whipped around. Azal could tell that he was in perfect condition and as fast as he was, Azal's attack that slashed at his head still grazed him. Visible heat waves, wind, and bad light conspired to impair his vision, leading him to fire his scattergun wildly, repeatedly. Already unbalanced on the slight slope inside the cave, the powerful recoil sent his twisting form stumbling backward. Landing on his butt, Azal watched as he loaded two more rounds to fire in the general direction of whatever had taken the big swipe at him. Obedient to Newton, and unbeknownst to himself, Azal simply watched as his wild shot missed him entirely although some of the stray flechette embedded itself into Azal's left arm. Despite the pain, and the evident jet-black blood leaking from the holes, he seemed to pay the wounds no mind. David slid backwards, toward the precipice that reared the cave. He nearly went over. Nearly.
Azal watched in fascination as reflexes obviously born of necessity saw David throw out one arm. It slid off the rock it clutched, but his strong fingers locked into a crack just wide enough to offer a grip. His other hand clung to the scattergun. Carefully, very carefully, David eased off the weapon’s trigger. Given the down-slope on which he now found himself, one more shot would break his grip on the rock and send him over the edge, but his weapon was empty of shells. Apparently, he'd found himself in a stable position, but Azal wouldn't allow him to live, not for the ignorance of coming to this planet.
All David had to do was work his way upward, using his knees and his hand, until he was safely back up on the more level portion of the ground. It was then that Azal's own pair of feet stepped into his view. They were bare, and were as yellow-hued as the rest of his body, a color commonly associated with the Yuuzhan Vong. Something about them however, the way they were placed or the clean definition of the toes, in this dirty jungle-climate, made David think of those feet running. Of savage, primal speed. Automatically his eyes followed them upward. Azal could see the surprise in his face, insofar as he was still capable of being surprised. Azal was bald, with a strong visage and reflective eyes that had the stare of a starving rancor. David would be able to sense, if not see, the musculature rippling beneath the apparition’s strung together clothing fit for Azal's living conditions.
Ambling unconcernedly forward, as if David no longer held the scattergun, Azal crouched down to stare at the human. His posture, as much as his indifferent attitude, suggested either lingering brain damage, supreme stupidity, or ultimate confidence. David did not have to debate long over which was the most likely. He found that he could see his own scarred, jungle-battered face reflected back at him in those shiny lenses that were as inscrutable as their owner. Azal brought one hand forward. David flinched slightly. Opening his fingers, the man revealed the contents of his hand. It was a human ear, raw and bleeding at the base.
“Yours?” Azal murmured quietly. His native language in combination with his lack of practice in Basic almost made the word incomprehensible, but David understood. Though deceptively soft, his voice pierced cleanly through the humid, hot wind. There was a pause, save for the whimpers from his strung up partner further back in the cave. Then David clamped a hand to one side of his head. His bare fingers came away bloody. Biting heat and surging adrenaline had combined to numb him to a point where he hadn’t felt the appendage being torn away. Unfortunately, in the shocked realization of the moment, he’d grabbed for his missing ear with the hand that had been anchoring him to the protruding rock. Grip lost, he scrambled briefly for a second handhold. The muddy ground and crumbling rock was not compliant. He went over the edge of the deep drop silent, to Azal's best guest accepting his fate. Rising, Azal walked fearlessly to the edge of the precipice and peered over. Nothing.
Azal walked away from the precipice and made his way back to his strung up prey. He spoke to him, his basic language laced heavily with his native tongue.
"Are you ready to be sacrificed, outsider?..." Azal's voice trailed off, as he saw a figure entering the cave. He did not have the stink of the humans, no. He was of this planet.
[member="Nas Kraal"]
He would not find whom he was looking for. Azal found him quite easily. The men who came here for the thrill of fighting Vong were clumsy...and loud.
"Talk to me, buddy!” The man yelled into the cave.
Azal looked at the hunter, then down to his hand at the scattergun he was holding. His hands raised the weapon and his finger contracted on the trigger. He fired off a shot for no reason, the ammo flew at amazing speeds, lodging holes in the wall of the cave in the vicinity of the unexpected visage, sending hardened clay, dirt, and insects in all directions. Azal looked on, wandering why he did it. Perhaps he was testing his weapon? Or maybe he was simply nervous. The man lit a torch, and instantly the pestering bugs scattered away from him and he eased tentatively forward. The long void in front of him was dark and uncaring. At first glance he probably contemplated whether the hollow was natural or had been excavated. Azal watched him as he eased into the cave and rose from his hiding spot to silently pursue him inside.
Azal tread on clouds as he followed the hunter inside. This cave in particular was Azal's own spot. He'd spend nights here when he didn't feel like being in his home. He loved nature and the jungle, and he found life adventurous being both the hunter and sometimes the hunted, although the latter was carried out by enemy domains. He continued to follow the torch until it stopped. Apparently he'd come across his ceremonial section. It was where he killed animals, offered them and their hearts to Yun-Yuuzhan and consumed them. Although the consummation wasn't completely necessary, Azal did it to please his own sense of survival in his solitude.
Azal heard the man as air he'd previously sucked in went out of him in tandem with tension when he saw a strung Beast hanging from the ceiling. It had been neatly and efficiently quartered before being hung from the roof of the cave by its massive right arm. Blood dripped softly into a collection pail. Neither the pail nor the smartly butchered condition of the massive corpse suggested that the bloody work had been carried out with any specific research in mind. There was a gape in it's chest, and it's entrails were missing, evident of the gash in the beast's midsection. None of the parts were lying on the ground, so Azal assumed that it led the hunter to believe someone had eaten them. Which he did.
The hunter vomited, and sounded as if he were going to heave over just from exertion.
"All that wasted water." Azal said in his native yet hushed tone
He looked on as the man continued to examine the cave after he finished wasting water and food. Additional artifacts scattered around the cave hinted that someone hereabouts had exerted knowledgeable efforts with the aim of personal survival. A slight movement made the Hunter turn sharply and raise the scattergun, but this time he didn’t shoot. As he shifted the torch, its light touched on a second strung-up figure. From his surprised stance, Azal guessed that he recognized it immediately: his partner. Azal heard the man make a sound of pity, a whimper.
Azal looked at the two men as they got closer. One was hung from the cave's ceiling, just as the beast was 10 feet away. The man whom was strung up said something. "David..."
"What a strange name..." Azal said to himself as he rose from his crouched position and started running towards him, in his right hand a razorbug was gripped. The small living biots were usually used as projectiles, but Azal's love for close quarters combat led him to learn to wield them as a human would utilize their own daggers and knives.
David leaned closer to hear what he was saying. “Behind you . . .”
"Behind...?"
David whipped around. Azal could tell that he was in perfect condition and as fast as he was, Azal's attack that slashed at his head still grazed him. Visible heat waves, wind, and bad light conspired to impair his vision, leading him to fire his scattergun wildly, repeatedly. Already unbalanced on the slight slope inside the cave, the powerful recoil sent his twisting form stumbling backward. Landing on his butt, Azal watched as he loaded two more rounds to fire in the general direction of whatever had taken the big swipe at him. Obedient to Newton, and unbeknownst to himself, Azal simply watched as his wild shot missed him entirely although some of the stray flechette embedded itself into Azal's left arm. Despite the pain, and the evident jet-black blood leaking from the holes, he seemed to pay the wounds no mind. David slid backwards, toward the precipice that reared the cave. He nearly went over. Nearly.
Azal watched in fascination as reflexes obviously born of necessity saw David throw out one arm. It slid off the rock it clutched, but his strong fingers locked into a crack just wide enough to offer a grip. His other hand clung to the scattergun. Carefully, very carefully, David eased off the weapon’s trigger. Given the down-slope on which he now found himself, one more shot would break his grip on the rock and send him over the edge, but his weapon was empty of shells. Apparently, he'd found himself in a stable position, but Azal wouldn't allow him to live, not for the ignorance of coming to this planet.
All David had to do was work his way upward, using his knees and his hand, until he was safely back up on the more level portion of the ground. It was then that Azal's own pair of feet stepped into his view. They were bare, and were as yellow-hued as the rest of his body, a color commonly associated with the Yuuzhan Vong. Something about them however, the way they were placed or the clean definition of the toes, in this dirty jungle-climate, made David think of those feet running. Of savage, primal speed. Automatically his eyes followed them upward. Azal could see the surprise in his face, insofar as he was still capable of being surprised. Azal was bald, with a strong visage and reflective eyes that had the stare of a starving rancor. David would be able to sense, if not see, the musculature rippling beneath the apparition’s strung together clothing fit for Azal's living conditions.
Ambling unconcernedly forward, as if David no longer held the scattergun, Azal crouched down to stare at the human. His posture, as much as his indifferent attitude, suggested either lingering brain damage, supreme stupidity, or ultimate confidence. David did not have to debate long over which was the most likely. He found that he could see his own scarred, jungle-battered face reflected back at him in those shiny lenses that were as inscrutable as their owner. Azal brought one hand forward. David flinched slightly. Opening his fingers, the man revealed the contents of his hand. It was a human ear, raw and bleeding at the base.
“Yours?” Azal murmured quietly. His native language in combination with his lack of practice in Basic almost made the word incomprehensible, but David understood. Though deceptively soft, his voice pierced cleanly through the humid, hot wind. There was a pause, save for the whimpers from his strung up partner further back in the cave. Then David clamped a hand to one side of his head. His bare fingers came away bloody. Biting heat and surging adrenaline had combined to numb him to a point where he hadn’t felt the appendage being torn away. Unfortunately, in the shocked realization of the moment, he’d grabbed for his missing ear with the hand that had been anchoring him to the protruding rock. Grip lost, he scrambled briefly for a second handhold. The muddy ground and crumbling rock was not compliant. He went over the edge of the deep drop silent, to Azal's best guest accepting his fate. Rising, Azal walked fearlessly to the edge of the precipice and peered over. Nothing.
Azal walked away from the precipice and made his way back to his strung up prey. He spoke to him, his basic language laced heavily with his native tongue.
"Are you ready to be sacrificed, outsider?..." Azal's voice trailed off, as he saw a figure entering the cave. He did not have the stink of the humans, no. He was of this planet.
[member="Nas Kraal"]
