- Joined
- May 31, 2016
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What wretched filth. Such a place deserved to be condemned. Destroyed. Left to crumble into the ground and rot, along with those who serve it's master.
Such were the thoughts of the youth as he made his way through the dark corridors of the hutt's "palace". The very air within the walls reeked of smells that belonged in a swamp. As if the hutt had corrupted every dark damp inch of his abode with his stench. Already Xanthier yearned to return outside to the light.
Yet he pressed on. His worn boots, so tattered and frayed that they did little to stop his feet from getting soaked, splashed in shallow puddles as he walked through the dim halls. He could not tell what substances he had stepped in, for it was too dark, and he simply did not care. Wishing to get this over with as quickly as possible. His newfound master sought something within the hutt's possession. A small object. He would retrieve this, peacefully or otherwise.
The hutt, B'alrok, owned a slave ring on this backwater moon, something that made Xanthier dispise him even more. The young darksider was far from being moral, but he hated those that chained others. There was no crime greater in his mind. The boy himself was a murderer and a fiend. A wild beast that had only now begun to tame himself into something that began to resemble a human. The animal within was still there however, and it remembered in great detail just how it felt to be in chains, at the mercy of another. The hutt's guards were far too many for him to take on himself, but if this all went wrong, he was fully prepared to strike down the hutt despite the consequences and fight his way out. It wouldn't be justice at that point, the hutt's slaves would not be freed, but their master would be dead. One less vile being who would undoubtedly be replaced by another.
Xanthier rounded the corner which led to the throne room of the hutt. Immediately his senses were overwhelmed with the stench. His nose turned up, recoiling as it smelled that which resembled a rotting bog.
Compared to other hutts lavish palaces and adornments, B'alrok's was a disgrace. It lacked the riches of it's counterparts. There were no decorations on the walls, no music, everything was of a somber tone. The great drapes which covered the six windows that let dim light into the circular room were tattered and molded. The only entertainment came in the form of the hutt's three slave girls. One Omwati, who's short purple feathers that decorated her head had been covered in grime, making them look almost a dirty brown. On her scantily covered body was an equally dark stain in the shape of a large tongue. Beside her, a Pantoran girl stood holding a worn bowl full of some kind of live beetles. Beetles which kept trying to escape over the steep edges of the container, forcing her to continually push them back in as she waited to be told to feed the hutt once more. In front of them all was a Keshiri, who was doing her best to please the hutt with a dance as the the black haired Xanthier walked in to the room.
"E'nuba ba keska doon."
The hutt's voice boomed, demanding an answer..
His translator druid, which had moss growing over most of it's circuits, converted the message to galactic basic.
"The great B'alrok wants to know why a mangy creature such as yourself has entered his throne room."
"It has come to my attention that you have something. Something that I wish to purchase."
Xanthier's voice lingered on the words, loud enough to hear, but it sounded like a whisper in the ears of all those that heard it. His eyes began to scan the room. Dark corners. Tables which housed men who's souls were darker than the palace itself, and stained with the blood and sorrow of all those they had wronged. Xanthier knew the dangers in coming here. Many, would pay a decent price for his head, and a great many more were willing to try and claim that prize.
"Gor'tuska na raska skorba."
The hut waived his pudgy arm, as if to dismiss the boy.
Again, his mechanical servant converted the huttese to words the dark haired youth could understand.
"B'alrok does not think someone of your stature has anything of value that would be a worthy trade for a slave."
Xanthier reached in to his pocket, which was obscured by the tattered grey sash around his waist, having removed his lightsaber holster earlier to conceal the weapon in the very same pocket he now reached for, the shape of something cylindrical could just barely be seen if one had keen eyes and knew where to look. Eyes that would have to be much more watchful than the hutt's, who noticed nothing.
Xanthier removed his hand. Within it were five gold credits. A small fortune. More than enough to pay for ten slaves.
But that was not what the boy had come for.
"Great B'alrok, I do not seek your slaves, but rather their possessions. On your hunters last..excursion, they picked up a woman who had on her a valuable necklace, something which belonged to my family before she stole it. It is silver, with three stones of a deep, black, purple. I seek to reclaim it."
Xanthier's voice was a steady melancholy whisper as it had been. It took great effort for him to address B'alrok in such a way, so much so that he disgusted himself when he said the words, but it did not show in his speech. He had no family. Knew nothing of it. But the lie had to be convincing if he did not wish to go about this the way that his animalistic tendencies wished for him to. Violence was such an easy answer. It was how he had lived for a great many years.
Now, as he waited in anticipation for the hutt's answer, his ever-vigilant eyes scanned the darkened recesses once more, and watched the entryways for new arrivals.
OOC:
This thread is meant to be death disabled as I don't want my character to die until at least after the time-skip, but if you seek the bounty on him or feel like a PvP I'm definitely game.