The Mentor
"Blasted Tuskens"
Those simple words escaped DragonsFlame's lips as he sat in the medical bay in Mos Eisley on Tatooine. Tusken Raiders had been causing problems on the city's borders for the last month, and the Jedi had been asked to handle it as a favor. Out of the kindness of his heart despite it not being his problem, the Weaponmaster agreed on their behalf.
He had joined up with a small civilian militia who had formed to be rid of the tuskens and headed out on a speeder. It seemed easy enough, clear them out and go home. Problem solved.
Sadly, they hadn't been counting on the tuskens being smarter then they seemed. As the speeder came by, the trap had been set. The tuskens had somehow gotten their hands on mines of all things, that exploded under the speeder and blown it up almost instantly. Josh and his allies had gone flying, and anyone else in the militia who had survived the explosion were suddenly picked off by an ambush from the Tusken Raiders.
Being too late to save any of them, an injured DragonsFlame, who had taken a throwing spear to the leg, managed to hobble out of sight when he confirmed that his entire militia was dead, he was injured and on his own, and there were at least 20 - 30 tuskens. Even being one of the best in terms of lightsaber skills, Josh knew he wouldn't survive if he didn't flee.
And that he did. Managing to use the force to speed his progress, he had gotten out of sight before limping, bleeding, back to the city where he had gotten aid from a young woman who had found him bleeding out.
After musing everything over for a moment, the Jedi lifted his head to look at the face of the woman who was patching him up. (Sorry if that seems controlling at all, feel free to change it if you like, just seemed like the best way to start us off! I can edit if needed)
Black hair, blue eyes. She was an attractive sort, sure. But any thoughts on her looks were dashed by gratefulness. Most people he met on Tatooine would rather stick a fork in his eye then help treat his wounds.
Those simple words escaped DragonsFlame's lips as he sat in the medical bay in Mos Eisley on Tatooine. Tusken Raiders had been causing problems on the city's borders for the last month, and the Jedi had been asked to handle it as a favor. Out of the kindness of his heart despite it not being his problem, the Weaponmaster agreed on their behalf.
He had joined up with a small civilian militia who had formed to be rid of the tuskens and headed out on a speeder. It seemed easy enough, clear them out and go home. Problem solved.
Sadly, they hadn't been counting on the tuskens being smarter then they seemed. As the speeder came by, the trap had been set. The tuskens had somehow gotten their hands on mines of all things, that exploded under the speeder and blown it up almost instantly. Josh and his allies had gone flying, and anyone else in the militia who had survived the explosion were suddenly picked off by an ambush from the Tusken Raiders.
Being too late to save any of them, an injured DragonsFlame, who had taken a throwing spear to the leg, managed to hobble out of sight when he confirmed that his entire militia was dead, he was injured and on his own, and there were at least 20 - 30 tuskens. Even being one of the best in terms of lightsaber skills, Josh knew he wouldn't survive if he didn't flee.
And that he did. Managing to use the force to speed his progress, he had gotten out of sight before limping, bleeding, back to the city where he had gotten aid from a young woman who had found him bleeding out.
After musing everything over for a moment, the Jedi lifted his head to look at the face of the woman who was patching him up. (Sorry if that seems controlling at all, feel free to change it if you like, just seemed like the best way to start us off! I can edit if needed)
Black hair, blue eyes. She was an attractive sort, sure. But any thoughts on her looks were dashed by gratefulness. Most people he met on Tatooine would rather stick a fork in his eye then help treat his wounds.