Lithronias Nithaniel
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 20, 2018
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The sound of a lightsaber colliding with something, piercing something, could be heard in the vast, empty, deserts of Tatooine. The blade was emerald green, but it did not to a Jedi, no, this lightsaber was kept by a Sith, an acolyte no less. The saber raised in the air after slashing off what seemed to be a head, the head of a Tusken Raider, the body dropped to the ground. Lithronias Nithaniel had "wandered" onto a Tusken Raider camp, and he'd just silenced his first victim, ah, but the Tuskens awoke despite this. But, the Bith known as Lith wanted this, he twirled his lightsaber, and pointed it at a startled Tusken Raider. His second victim had been chosen, he ran towards it as it scrambled for its gaffi stick, and once it managed to grab it, it was halved by the acolyte, who then proceeded to halve the Tusken.
He looked on at the other Tuskens, there was a reason they were so docile; they were afraid. Lith had done this before, it was a hobby of sorts for him. He did limit it to an extent, didn't want to get them too startled or else trouble might arise. But trouble for him wasn't on his mind, the trouble for the Raiders however, was. They hesitantly took up arms, Lith chuckled. "Let the fun begin." He chuckled, in an amused, sadistic tone. More and more bodies collapsed to the ground. Slashing off heads and arms. Perforating as many chests as he could. Simply because, he could. Because, he knew that they couldn't stop him. Not if he attacked small camps instead of going after whole tribes. Maybe someday, he'd expand his horizons, but for now. Just camps. And then, the final Raider, he pierced its heart with his lightsaber, and removed it from its chest as it dropped to the ground, just like the rest of the little camp.
He deactivated the lightsaber, which had belonged to a Jedi, centuries prior, the weapon was an heirloom of sorts, as well as blatant mockery of the Jedi. He clipped the hilt back onto his belt. And began the journey to Anchorhead. Nothin' like a good round of bantha milk after murdering an entire camp of Tusken Raiders.
He looked on at the other Tuskens, there was a reason they were so docile; they were afraid. Lith had done this before, it was a hobby of sorts for him. He did limit it to an extent, didn't want to get them too startled or else trouble might arise. But trouble for him wasn't on his mind, the trouble for the Raiders however, was. They hesitantly took up arms, Lith chuckled. "Let the fun begin." He chuckled, in an amused, sadistic tone. More and more bodies collapsed to the ground. Slashing off heads and arms. Perforating as many chests as he could. Simply because, he could. Because, he knew that they couldn't stop him. Not if he attacked small camps instead of going after whole tribes. Maybe someday, he'd expand his horizons, but for now. Just camps. And then, the final Raider, he pierced its heart with his lightsaber, and removed it from its chest as it dropped to the ground, just like the rest of the little camp.
He deactivated the lightsaber, which had belonged to a Jedi, centuries prior, the weapon was an heirloom of sorts, as well as blatant mockery of the Jedi. He clipped the hilt back onto his belt. And began the journey to Anchorhead. Nothin' like a good round of bantha milk after murdering an entire camp of Tusken Raiders.