Tracking Terrors

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

The icy winds of Ando Prime were oddly still this quiet evening. One lone figure sat atop a pacing varlwulf, cold blue eyes keeping a wary lookout from her vantage point. Far above, Aurora borealis misted in ethereal colors through scattered clouds.

Skuld once watched this as a child; even though the anomaly had been explained when she was a small child, it gave a deceivingly peaceful feel to the atmosphere.

But stories from other clans drove her from her hall out here. Tales of attacks from a wampa female, of a den close enough to settlements to maul a few hunters... that this one was different from any other, smarter.

So she enlisted some outside help, based on secure information. Her grip tightened on her rifle and mount harness, eyes waiting to set on other figures than the subtle undulations of snow over stony ground.

They had a warrior's quarry to pursue, and time was everything.

@Pontus

 

[M. Arcas]

Morgan always had liked the cold. It was interesting, for Corellia - his home - was a planet of temperate weather, but ever since he was a child he'd been fascinated by the feel of the cool air nipping at his skin, and his breath turning to a fog before his eyes. He'd been to Ando Prime once before, but the northern lights were something he'd never seen. The lights dancing before him, tinging the sky in a multitude of colour further placed him in this relaxed, zen-like state.

He was late, as per usual. Only a few minutes, and this time he'd have an excuse. This 'mount' he was riding on seemed to be on a less than ideal mood. It turned out there were ways to deal with tamed wolves, and apparently they didn't involve staring them down, 'wrestling' them to the ground and then vigorously shaking their head from side to side. Something about drawing on their predatory instincts. Sounded like a load of gobbledygook to him, to be honest.

It... She was getting a little hyper, but she was doing a good enough job of getting him where he needed to go. The fur really was soft, too. Arcas had seriously considered getting one of these as a pet, if there wasn't the lingering voice in the back of his mind telling him that if he did get one, it'd only be a matter of time until he pissed it off so badly it'd claw his face off. And that was uh... less than ideal.

Regardless, Morgan had come all the way out to the frozen tundras of Ando Prime, to find another individual supposedly well-versed in the Deucalian ways. Aeron seemed infatuated enough by the culture and Uhtred claimed himself an expert, but there was only so much he could ask them before they just fed him reading material. Nobody wanted that. Nobody.

So, upon hearing that another Deucalian had been hiring people for a hunt, he couldn't resist getting to understand this culture that was about to become a major part of his life, and a nice little paycheck for his troubles at the end of it.

Before long, he had finally managed to make his way down to the rendezvous point, where he noticed the woman there, waiting for him. "Well met." - Morgan greeted, having felt like it might be something Uhtred might say.

"Hope you haven't been waiting too long. This one got a little overly excited and we had to wait for her to calm down a spell." - he added, giving the varlwulf a few hearty pats on her flank, shamelessly pushing the blame onto the happy creature that carried him.
@Killa Ree

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

The air was bitter-cold, but if truth were to be told, this was how he liked it. It wasn't like his pilgrimage to Hoth, that place was still almost sacred to Deucalians, but it felt good. Felt natural. Not to mention, it was good weather for his old friend. Uhtred extended his hand, rubbing the white fur of his varlwulf, Wintermane. He'd had him since he was an older boy, not yet a man in his own right. But whenever traversing wildlands of ice and snow, Whitemane-was Uhtred's constant companion.

"ᛖᚨᛋᚤ, ᛒᛟᚤ. ᛖᚨᛋᚤ, ᚾᛟᚹ", Uhtred said, scratching his varlwulf at the lower back of his head.

Something agitated the wolf, but it wasn't something seen. And through these winds, Uhtred doubted it was something that was heard. Instead, the Battle-Master smiled as he drew a deep breath of the sharp, clean air. Eva certainly knew how to pick her hunting grounds.

It hadn't taken very long before Uhtred had arrived at the arranged meeting point, and by the time he had, he was fairly surprised to see that he was not the first to have arrived, aside from Eva herself, but that it was Morgan of all people.

"Well met", he said, nodding his head toward both Eva and Morgan. "You've picked your grounds well. My wolf has been agitated for some time by a scent in this region."

@Killa Ree @Pontus

 

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

Skuld Stark, now Eva, always relished the cold. The bite of it, the thrill of survival against the elements, mettle against nature. It spoke to the survivalist in her with a keen, eager voice. Andansvetur had been anxious a long time; amber eyes kept tracking to the west, towards the mountains, where the rumors of such an intelligent creature dwelled. She had been tracking it for a long time, but it was a clever beast; striking when guard was slackest. What was unusual was not the hunting technique, however, but how often it struck. Most creatures did not strike camp hard enough to enlist outside help, but some of the hunters were adamant to request assistance.

She hoped that after securing the problem, the Warlord who requested her assistance would be a bit more inclined to allay his forces with hers. Most clans were hard coming to join sides simply from long enmity; this was an alternative to brute forcing them to ally. It was a start, anyhow.

As Morgan approached on Ísfótur, her varlwulf gave a low growl of warning to becalm the younger pup. It had seemed, when her sister outfitted her enlisted help to come out here, she had been ironic. His mount was pup to hers own second litter; their markings were similar, as well as their bearings. Good.

She simply inclined her head to the male, icy breath billowing out from her helm as she exhaled. Lips quirked in a slight grin, unseen. "Is that a fact? You must have been heavier than she expected, then." Amusement laced her tones; at least he wasn't as upstuck and tight as most mercenaries she had met in the starlanes. In fact, he seemed at ease with the bitterly cold environs. If she didn't know any better, she would have assumed him one of her kind. She sat tall and proud atop her mount, eyeing her newfound companion in curiosity, when they were joined with a second.

The smile widened when Uhtred approached, calming her own wolf with a gentle rub between the ears when she whined in eager curiosity, restrained from sniffing the new arrivals. "Bróðir, good that you are here. Our quarry is not far; I was hoping for a third, but they might be detained." Her eyes scanned the horizon once more, amusement vanishing from her tone. Strictly back to business, it seemed.

She pulled her heavy-duty datapad out, then showed the results to her companions. It was a detailed map of the surrounding plains and mountains ahead, including most caves and underground rivers. Three markers were left out in yellow against the blue background, marked with a wampa head. "I have done some tracking, but the beast eludes Andansvetur and left misleading tracks. Odinn smiles upon those that join in the hunt." She smiled savagely beneath her helm, stashing the datapad away into one small carisak attached to the varlwulf's flank harness. It had been a good week's worth of tracking, but she was close.

Now, they just needed some more eyes and ears... and hopefully snare the beast before the next massive wind storm hit. If they didn't make it...

Ravens and beasts would feast well. But what Morgan may not have been aware of, was it was more like a rite of passage. This just had added risk piled atop it.

@Korvo @Pontus @Zay

 

[M. Arcas]

A grin shot across the mercenary's face upon hearing the woman's reply. Not even two seconds in and he was already being called fat? Perfect. A woman after his own heart.

A smile still gracing his face, Morgan, visibly amused, shot back. "What can I say?" - a few chuckles were let off as he heartily slapped the armour plate guarding a mid-section that was surprisingly lean, despite the individual's regular consumption of unholy amounts of alcohol, no doubt a result of good genes and enormous amounts of exercise - "I'm a big lad."

"Morgan." - still chuckling, the man finally introduced himself - "Nice to meet you."

The two traded glances as the varlwulves did their thing. They inspected each others' bearings. Such was the norm for cases when one's life might end up in the other's hands: you needed to have a good idea of what they were capable of. She seemed to be of above average height and fairly thin. The icy, blue-eyed man towered over her, even while atop a smaller mount. Still, she had the look. Anyone could sport the markings or wear the clothes, but that wasn't it. Something about her told him she was definitely Deucalian. Meaning, the woman was bound to have been graced with unrealistic physical prowess. Uhtred, for one, was a hint shorter and quite a bit less muscular than Arcas, and yet the mercenary couldn't be sure he'd be stronger for the life of him... What did they feed these people? And where could he get some of it?

Before long, Wardruna joined them, and Morgan greeted him with a friendly nod. A great feeling of pride swelled within the Corellian-born's chest when he heard Uhtred offer the exact same greeting he had. Maybe understanding Deucalian culture wouldn't prove so difficult after all.

Still, hearing the Deucalian man discuss his own mount's behaviour, the fair-haired individual could not help but steal a glance down at the beast that carried him. The wolf seemed normal. Clearly, either his was airheaded or more likely, whatever the duo saw in the wolves, he couldn't. After that came the unpronounceable names and strange talks of blessings, and just like that, the mercenary knew he'd be in for another wild ride.

Glancing around, Morgan offered a quick prayer for Aeron to safely and swiftly make his way towards them. Now, of course the former slave's safety was a concern of his. But mostly he just wanted a fellow outlier, so he wouldn't be left twiddling his thumbs when the conversation inevitably turned to Deucalian. And it would. He could feel it.

Whatever way the wind blew however, his gut instincts screamed one singular thing. This. Would. Be. Fun.

@Killa Ree @Korvo @Zay

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Not far indeed. Uhtred hadn't actually ever seen a Wampa before, not in the flesh. Oh, he'd seen holo-imagery of them, to be sure. Visuals of the creature on monitors, usually advisory warnings for the locals or tourists on planets where they resided. His memory of such times were of long ago, and were fuzzy at best, but one fact did remain clear; Wampas were apex predators, and as such, had a tendency to claim massive regions as hunting grounds. They were also solitary, when not seeking mates or raising young, which was actually a boon, in most cases; dealing with a single beast was difficult enough, but a family would be an entirely different struggle.

"Did you know, Morgan, centuries ago, Deucalians once had adopted Hoth as their home?", Uhtred had said, speaking to pass the time as they waited. "There is a clan among us, Clan Thorite, who had a brutal custom for those that sought to challenge the Jarls. Before they could fight them, they were sent out into the dead, frozen wilds of Hoth where they had to hunt and slay a bull Wampa with only an axe, their wits and their resolve."

Uhtred chuckled quietly to himself. "A vicious test for unapologetic traditionalists. Many would-be challengers died horrid deaths, but for those that survived... before the civil war, some of the greatest Deucalian Warlords in our people's history rose from Clan Thorite."

Uhtred wasn't a true student of history, but he did hold a passion for it. His own clan, Wardruna, descended from Clan Friscii, who had little in the way of conventional honor. They were the great shipwrights, the builders and designers of warships from the days of old. Clan Wardruna even earned its right to exist when Uhtred's ancestor founded Drekarheim, the first stable settlement on Deucalia after its first recolonization. But... he had to admit, he wished his ancestry had more figures like Clan Bladr, Clan Thorite or Clan Alemanii. Clan Alemanii seemingly produced heroes in every generation. The legendary Odin Alemanii, Kira Alemanii, who founded the Alemanii-Drast bloodline, Bijorn Alemanii-Drast, who fought and won the Deucalian-Mandalorian War, Goliath Alemanii, the first Lord of Wolves, and his daughter, Zora Alemanii, who succeeded him...

...blehth! Uhtred uttered quietly, spitting to the side of his wolf. It was an unexpected downer, thinking about how all the heroes of the Deucalian people tended to belong to family lines other_than his own.

"Well, Sáldœm is said to take the form of a wolf, isn't he?", Uhtred said, fastening his helmet tight. He might have liked the cold, but he also preferred it in its place; outside-his armor. "Maybe we'll have the luck of the gods with us, bringing these guys along with us."

@Killa Ree @Pontus

 

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

Morgan seemed to be the sort of man that took things in stride and rolled with the punches. Rare in this galaxy, especially in this region of space. An unfortunate addition to being in a proud warrior culture was that some did not seem to be blessed with any real humor. Well... he was showing his face. She would return the honor, as it was given credit. She removed her own helm, icy eyes glinting with a steely humor that showed in the cut of her lips and the slight raising of one brow. "Ja, not short of much I see. Eva. Well met."

Without the HUD, vision was limited, but for the time being she did not mind overmuch for lack of distance. Rather, she wanted to look in the face those that had willingly signed up for this; hunting wampas was not something that anyone did for entertainment. And rarely did other clans allow outsiders to help with a particularly terrible creature, especially smaller clans. Skuld could relate far better than most when it came to that particular brand of pride, but people's lives were far more important in this harsh environment.

She took a deep breath when Uhtred mentioned the harsh traditions of their kind.

...Her kind. To most, it seemed borderline suicidal, to take on a massive beast with simple tools, but when you lived in harsh places and times, you could not allow the weak to take control. Physical strength wasn't the only test in endeavors like these; it also took a certain level of strategy, mental capacity and will to wait several days in bitter temps and difficult terrain to trap such wily, savage beings.

She closed her eyes a moment, seeming to savor the breeze before she spoke up, shifting on her mount and opening her eyes to glance back at her company. All joviality vanished from her face, her features hard planes and icy eyes distant.

"...Not just to challenge the Jarls. Some offshoots used the hunt as a proof of worthiness for prowess in adulthood. Much like Mandalorians and Zakkegs." If any of them looked close enough, they would see it painted upon the chest plate of her Vikingr armor; the flash of white of a Zakkeg head... and a Wampa head, painted in the light blue of her people.

"Clan Stark was one of them. In fact, their Jarl Eva Stark took down an adult when she was a mother and wife at 20 years of age." Another gleam of humor twitched on her lips, but her eyes focused on Morgan, perking a black brow slightly. "It would be a stretch to call some of my ancestors great Warlords, however. Some were gifted to not panic when the beast came roaring, others were left. And it wasn't just an ax... I was allowed a knife too."

She smirked at Uhtred's disgust surfacing, both brows raised slightly. "Though Clan Wardruna has proved itself honorable these last few years, worthy of many titles." It was like teasing a brother, both a compliment and a slight nudge. The grin vanished as she put on her helm, however, when a distant roar echoed from the mountains.

"...Ve cannot wait much longer for our last companion. Let us hope he can track pawprints in snow. Andansvetur," she spoke, affectionately stroking the varlwulf's neck, "and I have been tracking this creature long enough. Tell me Morgan... do you mind sharp rocks?" A smile touched her voice once more, but it was subdued. If their company caught up, he would not have far to track. Unless her companions wanted to wait... but the beast could leave if they knew their nest had been compromised.

Perhaps it already did, and if so, time was of the essence.

@Korvo @Pontus

 

[M. Arcas]

Morgan listened attentively as Eva and Uhtred went into detail about their cultures, their opinions of them, and even their stories. Despite his normal unwillingness to do work that did not allow him to rise up in life, be it in social standing or in martial prowess, this truly was a rich and interesting culture, populated it seemed by enormously capable people that without a doubt shared one common trait: Every single one of them was barking mad.

And he loved it. It genuinely was incredible to him how little kriffs these people gave about any societal rules. They forged their own paths in their own, often bizarre and ridiculous ways, and they did so with reckless abandon. There was a purity to it. He especially perked up when he'd heard the wolves being harbingers of luck, and proceeded to scratch Ísfótur behind.

Then Eva faced him, and without much thought the man quipped back, very briefly: "Don't mess with you. Got it." - he said, mostly in jest, but with a multitude of emotions rushing through his body. Behind the friendly smile on his face, was the awe that came with believing this woman truly had hunted such a creature by herself and following it came the mortal dread about hearing that she was a mother at age 20. Though she was married and of course their circumstances were different, they did seem to be of similar ages. And the mercenary, known for his poor choices, now sincerely prayed to any gods who were listening, Deucalian or otherwise, there were no spawn of his running around the galaxy.

"Sharp rocks?" - the man found himself repeating, a little puzzled. Figuring out where the woman was headed wasn't difficult, but it was interesting that she asked all the same. She was clearly messing with him, but her sense of humour was a little odd, which was surprising. With a smile on his face, the man planted his helm and fastened it properly, before responding, honestly but amusedly - "Personally, I can't say I'm a fan, but as long as the armour holds, I don't think I'll mind... Will I?" - he tacked on at the end, in a no, seriously, is this going to be a problem? kind of way.
@Killa Ree @Korvo @Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron was late. He couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something off about Ando Prime. If he didn't know better he'd assume there was some spirit following him around weighing on his mind and clouding his thoughts, but that was crazy. Aeron hired a tauntaun mount for the mission and thanked the vendor for both the ride and the information and set his heading in the direction of his fellow companions.

Fifteen minutes outside the town, Aeron found himself in a clearing the path behind him was clear enough, but the one before him permeated foreboding and danger. The mercenary was geared up in his Scout Armor with a wolf pelt poncho draped over it. He carried both his blaster and rifle for this mission as well as his hammer. Knowing he was already running late he added a pair of flares to his gun belt and double-checked his holdout blaster hidden in his right boot. His head began to hurt as gently urged the Tauntaun forward.

The clearing was sparsely ringed with trees at it's entry and as he drew closer toward the ominous maw of the forest ahead of the foliage naturally increased in density. For a moment he considered turning back, but his pride wouldn't allow it. He reached the darkened forest and his steed bristled refusing to go any further. Aeron set his jaw and dismounted. As his foot hit the ground warning rang out in his mind and he threw himself to the right, just in time to see his mount drop to the ground.

Aeron's head snapped around frantically looking for his attacker, but to his dismay, he couldn't determine where the attack had come from. He slid over the lifeless body of his mount and took cover behind it. His eyes widened with shock when he spotted the tauntaun's head cocked at an unnatural angle. It's tongue hung from it's mouth and it's eyes stared into the void. The side of it's head was leaking blood and the last signs of shocked nerves set in sending aftershocks from the next realm through the poor creature.

Seeing no other option, the gladiator counted to three and ran like hell into the ominous depths of the forest before him.

@Killa Ree @Korvo @Pontus

 

[Gjun Greydraek]

Gjun arrived later to the party, as they made their move into the forest. Much like one of the others, he had lived here, if only for his formative years, on Ando Prime. He welcomed the biting air with a wild grin, making his way to the hunting party. He had moved to Bandomeer, but still had plenty of connections back home, and heard about the problem with the Wampas in the area. They had become more bold than he remembered.

Striding atop his Nuna Scout Walker, he had a good view of all of the Deucalian warriors, from about 30 meters. He slowed a bit, to keep the walker from making too much noise. The need to run at full tilt had ended. "Gjun Greydraek of Clan Wardruna here. I'm here to help!" he shouted in the local Ando-Deucalian dialect, as he closed distance, speaking to the group as a whole. He stopped after seeing the face of Skuld Stark; name he had heard, and knew plenty about, but had never met. He knew who she was, and disengaged the Nuna Walker, letting it kneel, like a large wingless bird, before disembarking, and placed a fist to his chest and bowed to Lady Stark. "My apologies for my tardiness. I had landed further away from rendezvous than anticipated. I won't delay you further, but I will ask - Walker or no Walker? I'm fine with either, if we intend to get the jump on the Wampa," he explained, pulling a hand closer to his Lockbow, and keeping an eye out for any other creatures that could be poking their heads through the forest. The disengaged blade of his Elduroxi hung on his belt, by the beard of the axe-blade, angled on his right hip, opposite his ZA-13 Blaster Pistol.

@Killa Ree @Korvo @Pontus @Zay

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Now this was a rare thing. It was too infrequent of a thing, Uhtred felt, when his people would simply speak about themselves. Their culture, their clan's customs, the old gods, or 'the Andar' as his uncle would traditionally call them, or even just their past and their ancestors. It was unexpectedly... serene. He could get used to it. Uhtred again grinned in amusement as Eva disclosed her proud accomplishments in the most indiscreet way. That-was how Deucs bragged, up front and unashamed, as was her passing compliment toward Uhtred himself.

Oh he had such plans for the future of his clan, but everything had to progress one step at a time. Work was a constant, to that end, but it was a welcome distraction to get away and just kill-something. But the fact that it was something that could kill you back ? Now that was just the fresh foam topping off the ale, right there.

Uhtred continued to direct Wintermane-to follow behind Eva's lead, but he found himself enjoying the scenery a bit more than usual. He had a very accelerated nature, always bombastic, seizing the moment. It was rather tranquil to simply enjoy the world around him for once and let his varlwulf be the one keeping an eye on things. That being said, he was somewhat disappointed that it seemed Aeron wouldn't be joining him. But, perhaps something on the Rudis-needed attention. That being said, all semblance of a quiet hunt were shattered by the entrance of the Andobian century when a familiar face came around atop of a Nuna walker.

"Well look who Svartur shat out!", Uhtred said grinning and with a laugh. It was a rare thing indeed for him to come across a member of his own clan. "You're a welcome sight, brother."

@Killa Ree @Zay @Pontus @Gian Greydragon

 

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

A low laugh rumbled past her lips at Morgan's query at the end, shaking her head slightly in answer. She began guiding Andansvetur slowly, when the distinct sound of a Nuna Walker crashing through the snow caused her to turn on her mount, lips pressed together. But hearing the man's cheerful shout in their dialect, she snorted, giving Uhtred a wryly amused raised brow. "I take that back. You still have far to go," but the chuckle that followed took any bite or venom out of her words. Uhtred had proven himself a worthy warrior; the Battle-Master had earned her respect in both fighting prowess and personality, not an easy feat in a world like this.

Her head tilted in a slight bow to Gjun, internally pleased he had paid respects even before approaching too closely. She hadn't known that news traveled beyond Ando Prime of her recent rise in status, but perhaps the old phrase was true: loose lips ran rampant when the icy winds blew free. Lips twitched unseen beneath her helm, but her voice rolled out good-naturedly from her helm, icy breath pluming from the facial vent.

"Well come, Gjun." Her eyes flicked towards the Walker, then back, then gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"The beast is aware of pursuit; I have tracked it to its' cave, or the closest to its' cave as I could guess. There may be more than one. The decision is yours, though that thing has no means of protection." As though to punctuate her statement, another roar shattered the silence. Her varlwulf paced beneath her slightly, nose lifted to the air, but Skuld did not break focus. Having something fast would certainly help distracting the beast, but...

Something changed in the trajectory of the roar. It came further west... strange.

She scowled beneath her helm, spurring her heels into Andansvetur's flanks. "...Let us hope that its' hunt did not just claim another of ours," she growled, leaning in to her beast as the wulf growled low in its' throat, slipping her elduroxi free in one hand, the other winding into the dense fur at the nape of her mount's neck as she sprang forward, a whine slipping from its' throat.

By the Andar's songs, she hoped she was wrong and it just happened to find something else to hunt. Or if it was human, they could escape the beast's teeth and claws...




Back in the woods, the smell of rotting meat permeated the stillness as the beast waited its' time. When the Tauntaun had begun to be skittish of its' surroundings, she had struck, but yet another tantalizing smell lured from its' desperate hunger. The beast had been hunted relentlessly for three days, but its' pursuer had relented just enough to allow her to hunt before it gathered in more numbers.

The beast was cunning; it could outwait the beings that paced atop their mounts. But far more tantalizing was not the smell of the Tauntaun, though it was sure to sate hunger; it was the Man that threw themselves away from the beast.

The creature loped off into the darkness just as the gladiator turned about, a bellow piercing the darkness that echoed in the trees.

Two more answered, similar to the first.

The hunt was afoot... and the gladiator seemed a far more tasty alternative to share. She and her pack would feast tonight.

@Zay @Korvo @Gian Greydragon @Pontus

 

[M. Arcas]

Morgan prepared to continue the conversation as a bout of Deucalic emerged from an individual on a Walker. The man understood none of what had been said, but assumed by his tone and Uhtred's response that he was friendly, and so the merc greeted him with a simple nod. Gjun seemed to be his name. Unpronounceable, as usual. Perhaps this was why they drunk so damned much? To loosen the tongue and actually be able to speak the language? Now this sounded like a plan. He had been struggling this far, and a ray of light had now pierced through the darkness. Ah, alcohol. What couldn't it do?

Still, all of that would have to wait. Eva had just mentioned that the beast seemed to be aware of their existence, and that that roar meant it was pursuing something else. Considering they'd been summoned here because it had attacked sentient settlements before, there was a chance that this wouldn't be good. Ísfótur began to pick up the pace, following after her mother and the fair-haired merc began to delight himself in watching the female wolves work. They seemed to have picked up a scent, and the proverbial hunt had finally begun. He just hoped the clock wouldn't be ticking on some poor sod's life. In what little he knew about a wampa and their hunts, this would probably not be the way to go.

He had a blaster on his hip, and a Carbine strapped to his back, and his hands twitched, wanting to grasp one of them soon. But the time wasn't right yet. Arcas mimicked Eva and brought his head closer to the Varlwulf's fur, to allow his mount to pick up the pace.

@Gian Greydragon @Killa Ree @Korvo @Zay

 

[Gjun Greydraek]

Gjun surged forward, on foot, with the rest of his brethren, keeping one hand on his lockbow, keeping it close to his body, as it hang loosely from it's single point sling. He kept his eyes on a swivel as he entered the woodline, ready take on a Wampas. This wouldn't be his first encounter with the beasts - many years ago, as a boy, himself and his brother, Guntr, narrowly survived an encounter, that left his brother without his left arm, and too poor for prosthesis. Determined to help his brother, he took his mother's lockbow, and stowed away on a ship leaving Bandomeer. From there, he found himself employed by a zealous Deucalian mercenary who staged raids in Imperial space. He found Gjun scavenging food in the mess hall kitchen late at night whem the rest slept.

He admired the young boys' devotion to his brother and employed him for a raid and put him to the test - one that he narrowly survived, as he encountered a Sith, but was saved by his comrades. That job nearly cost his life, but got him the money needed for Guntr's prosthetic arm. Here, he'd hope to dish out a bit of long awaited vengeance on the beasts, and show them the true Alphas of the Bandomeerian wilds.