The Hunt: Chrysalide Bantha

[The Gloaming]

Location: Yavin IV

The expanse of forestry was primitive, dark, and generally a perfect place for acolytes to hunt and kill. Gienn peered across the breadth of wilderness before him, several hundred acres of tall dense trees. The Bantha wasn't too large to hide in their, but maybe a bit too large to move fast enough. The real conflict would be among the acolytes, who were vying for prestige and training in the art of assassinry. Not a full apprenticeship, but powerful techniques nonetheless.

The hunt would start in a few minutes, so Gienn waited for the participants to arrive.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p's breath was slowed, his concentration tightened. He was pressing up against the trunk of a tree, out of sight. Squeezing his eyes tightly, he relaxed them - believing he had achieved a new level of anonymity in his disapearance. He stepped out, seeing the Master's back to him. Phili'p's foot slowly lifted forward, shivering in control as it press against the earth; careful not to crush any dry leaf or snap any stray twig. He stepped again, closing in from behind. He stepped again, and again; his hands flexed down in balancing feeling of stealth as he creep so close.

His lightsaber dangled from the single chain link at the right side of his sagging belt. His loose, long-sleeved shirt that he always wore showed off the branding upon his neck and left cheek; the marking of a Master, of a Sith. The worn knitting of the shirt let dangle the long sleeves down past his pinky, though showing his other fingers. His black boots, strapped tight like the many belts and straps across his dark pants, sunk into shadow as he step.

He was so close. He didn't even know why he did it, why he tested the limits of the elements and his clothing and himself. Denial did not gain him freedom. Anger, wild anger, did not gain him control. Now he was bargaining. In his mind, he still viewed himself as something else; not a Sith in training, but wearing the image of one to maybe one day be his own master and be free of the dominating laws of the galaxy itself. Just as these trees would die without the nurishment of the sun, he would one day deprive himself of that nurishment to free himself of the laws of man. Maybe he was still in denial. But here he was, ready to do what his Master commanded and ready to hunt this beast to show his commitment to his Master's training. He could not hide that disgusted feeling whenever he met the presence of those darker than he, so evil in their curiosities of the flesh and the Darkside that his stomach curtled. Phili'p would try. Here, he tried.

 

[Black Noise]

{{Sorry mates, I really can't do this thread. I'll make it up to ya'll}}

 

[The Gloaming]

((Deloi will not be joining us.))

"Philli'p. Glad you could make it." Gienn looked at the acolyte heading his way, Six was what he'd been called. Ah yes, he was on Tattooine. Another pressence was felt, and then vanished. Gienn was familliar with the ability to conceal ones presence in the Force, this one likely trained well. "You may approach." He projected his voice so that the others would join him and his apprentice. When they finally did so, he held his hand up, palm outward.

"Welcome to the hunt. We live in an age where hunting is increasingly important. It is of course important to keep the way of the Sith alive, and the Jedi attempt to destroy our way of life. This is common knowledge. Sith Lords for many generations, even dating back to Darth Revan, have deployed their subordinates to hunt their enemies. This is why I have organized this event. A chrysalide beast, a bantha, roams the forrest. He is my pet, and I worked hard to make him. Kill him and bring back his horns."

Gienn pointed his fingers across the threshold, and watched the acolytes, and the new Marauder, go. He would of course follow his apprentice, and make sure he tried hard, but he wouldn't interfere.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p winced at the welcoming words of the Master, wanting to stomp his foot with an angered failure at his attempt to sneak up on him. Instead, he stepped up before Gienn and hid his anger; for it would only fuel his Master's teachings, only fuel the others to believe they had won.

His lightsaber, 'Apocrypha', dangled with the sway of his step into stance before Gienn, and continued freely as he wait there. ...Wait there. He could barely contain himself. He recognized one of the others there beside him. That foul stench of curddling blood and lingering death. Phili'p wanted nothing more than to succeed in this hunt, for the sake of proving to his Master that he was worth his time; but this Acolyte, this disgusting thing, groped at Phili'p's insides like a disease which he had to expel. Phili'p was with his Master when he caught the beast, and had known it's presence. He didn't know how this would go, but that bantha was his!

And with the Master's point, Phili'p reacted. He'd been standing slightly behind Six, and when Phili'p turned to move - he yanked at the heel of the Acolyte and tore his foot back with the Darkside as Phili'p bolt forward past his side. As he tore back that tripping motion with his left hand, his right hand simultaneously snatched up his lightsaber from his right hip up passed his left as it ignite just where his left arm had been and between his body and the others. He sped by and past a tree, which would give him a moment's clearance for the start; running as fast as he could towards what he felt to be the bantha.

 

[Insanity]

(Withdrawing from thread. Sorry for the trouble.)