Smug Slug
Day 1
Somewhere in the jungles of Dxun...
The oppressive heat complemented the stifling humidity. They bothered Darth Orcus little as he crashed through the jungle undergrowth. The massive Herglic was more concerned with staying alive, as he had been for the past seven hours since his arrival on the Demon Moon. Good name for such a planet. If the rainforest teeming with poisonous planets and voracious predators did not kill you, the weather would. Already, Darth Orcus had encountered two of the famed Dxun rainstorms. Water still drenched his cargo vest and pants.
He continued his charge, ripping aside plants and bushes in his way. Few things could stand in his path and remain there. But Orcus well knew the history of this place. If Mandalore the Indomitable could be slain by these beasts, then anyone could. Save him. He would not perish upon this moon. The galaxy had need of him yet.
Though he could not see his hunters, he knew they were out there. Maalraas. Nighthunters. He had felt them in the Force upon his arrival. It was daytime yet, though when darkness fell... they would come for him. And darkness was falling quickly.
Without warning, a vine wrapped around his leg. He collapsed face first into the fauna. Several more vines wrapped around his legs and began to haul him backward. Dazed, Orcus shifted his enormous bulk, twisting and turning, but with each twist he wrapped himself more firmly into the grip of the vines. They began lifting his enormous form up, up, yanking him into the trees. Black eyes widened.
Crasna.
Struggling wildly, the Herglic continued to entwine himself further into the predator's vines, slowly but surely ensuring his fate. The panic soon turned to rage as he pulled and strained. But his vast strength availed him little here. Even his immense lungs were growing taxed, though he did not heave for breath quite yet. He ceased his struggles, remembering Balaya's instructions before she sent him to the Demon Moon.
"Every predator is a lesson."
What was the lesson here? Panic and he failed. Rage and he failed. Patience was the answer he sought. He drank in a deep breath of the humid air and sought the weakness of the Crasna. He surmised it quickly. Doubling over, his still pudgy white stomach barely enabling him to curl upward, he grabbed onto a single vine with two hands and pulled with all his might. Straining, he tore the vine in half. He had been going about this wrong. Fight all the vines and he would lose. But fight them one by one, with patience, and he could overcome them. He began tearing the vines apart until with a final rip, he tore the last one free.
And then he fell.
THUD!
Pain pervaded his body as he lay sprawled upon his back. Eight hundred pounds did not fall easily, even with the Force to strengthen him. He lay upon the ground, knowing he should rise, but the wind had been knocked out of him. He wheezed for breath, but the humid climate choked his lungs. He blinked, staring up into the leafy canopy. Fading light streamed down upon the jungle floor below. Daylight was fading quickly. If he did not rise, he would die.
Something sprang upon him. It was small, to him, with a pale body. A row of pointed needle teeth jutted over its lip. Orcus' black eyes stared. The lession he had just learned was one of patience. He would not ignore it. But what would this lesson teach him? Suddenly, another jumped upon him, then another, then another. Orcus felt a sense of fear grow inside him, but quelled it, bringing up the rage instead. He dived into the safe, familiar waters of anger and submerged himself in their dark tides. Anger. Anger at the Jedi for betraying his trust. Anger at the lives he was forced to take because of others foolishness. Anger at the predators here who reminded him so much of politicians on Coruscant.
One of the small creatures bite him suddenly. Sharp teeth dug deep into his blubber, tearing away a large glomp. Orcus roared in pain and rose in a towering rage. He tore the creatures off of him in one tremendous swipe of his flipper, breaking bones and scattering them. Now on his feet, he began literally stomping them out. Each fall of his immense feet shook the ground and crushed the stalk-eyed creatures beneath his heel. Bones cracked with wet snaps. Blood stuck to the bottom of his shoes, mixing with the mud. An endeavoring little bastard leapt at him, jaws opened wide to grab at his thigh. Orcus caught it out of midair in one flipper and squeezed. He could feel as its ribs caved in and its organs burst. The stalk eyes bulged. Hoisting the creature, Orcus promptly opened his toothy maw and bit it in half. He munched upon the beast for a bit before unleashing a triumphant hauum that sent shivers through the trees.
The rest of the Cannoks scattered.
Lesson learned? In the face of raw strength, numbers served but to weaken.
A shriek sounded in the distance. Orcus tossed the half-bitten corpse aside and ran. He needed to find shelter before nightfall, or he would end up like that Cannok. Someone else's meal.
Somewhere in the jungles of Dxun...
The oppressive heat complemented the stifling humidity. They bothered Darth Orcus little as he crashed through the jungle undergrowth. The massive Herglic was more concerned with staying alive, as he had been for the past seven hours since his arrival on the Demon Moon. Good name for such a planet. If the rainforest teeming with poisonous planets and voracious predators did not kill you, the weather would. Already, Darth Orcus had encountered two of the famed Dxun rainstorms. Water still drenched his cargo vest and pants.
He continued his charge, ripping aside plants and bushes in his way. Few things could stand in his path and remain there. But Orcus well knew the history of this place. If Mandalore the Indomitable could be slain by these beasts, then anyone could. Save him. He would not perish upon this moon. The galaxy had need of him yet.
Though he could not see his hunters, he knew they were out there. Maalraas. Nighthunters. He had felt them in the Force upon his arrival. It was daytime yet, though when darkness fell... they would come for him. And darkness was falling quickly.
Without warning, a vine wrapped around his leg. He collapsed face first into the fauna. Several more vines wrapped around his legs and began to haul him backward. Dazed, Orcus shifted his enormous bulk, twisting and turning, but with each twist he wrapped himself more firmly into the grip of the vines. They began lifting his enormous form up, up, yanking him into the trees. Black eyes widened.
Crasna.
Struggling wildly, the Herglic continued to entwine himself further into the predator's vines, slowly but surely ensuring his fate. The panic soon turned to rage as he pulled and strained. But his vast strength availed him little here. Even his immense lungs were growing taxed, though he did not heave for breath quite yet. He ceased his struggles, remembering Balaya's instructions before she sent him to the Demon Moon.
"Every predator is a lesson."
What was the lesson here? Panic and he failed. Rage and he failed. Patience was the answer he sought. He drank in a deep breath of the humid air and sought the weakness of the Crasna. He surmised it quickly. Doubling over, his still pudgy white stomach barely enabling him to curl upward, he grabbed onto a single vine with two hands and pulled with all his might. Straining, he tore the vine in half. He had been going about this wrong. Fight all the vines and he would lose. But fight them one by one, with patience, and he could overcome them. He began tearing the vines apart until with a final rip, he tore the last one free.
And then he fell.
THUD!
Pain pervaded his body as he lay sprawled upon his back. Eight hundred pounds did not fall easily, even with the Force to strengthen him. He lay upon the ground, knowing he should rise, but the wind had been knocked out of him. He wheezed for breath, but the humid climate choked his lungs. He blinked, staring up into the leafy canopy. Fading light streamed down upon the jungle floor below. Daylight was fading quickly. If he did not rise, he would die.
Something sprang upon him. It was small, to him, with a pale body. A row of pointed needle teeth jutted over its lip. Orcus' black eyes stared. The lession he had just learned was one of patience. He would not ignore it. But what would this lesson teach him? Suddenly, another jumped upon him, then another, then another. Orcus felt a sense of fear grow inside him, but quelled it, bringing up the rage instead. He dived into the safe, familiar waters of anger and submerged himself in their dark tides. Anger. Anger at the Jedi for betraying his trust. Anger at the lives he was forced to take because of others foolishness. Anger at the predators here who reminded him so much of politicians on Coruscant.
One of the small creatures bite him suddenly. Sharp teeth dug deep into his blubber, tearing away a large glomp. Orcus roared in pain and rose in a towering rage. He tore the creatures off of him in one tremendous swipe of his flipper, breaking bones and scattering them. Now on his feet, he began literally stomping them out. Each fall of his immense feet shook the ground and crushed the stalk-eyed creatures beneath his heel. Bones cracked with wet snaps. Blood stuck to the bottom of his shoes, mixing with the mud. An endeavoring little bastard leapt at him, jaws opened wide to grab at his thigh. Orcus caught it out of midair in one flipper and squeezed. He could feel as its ribs caved in and its organs burst. The stalk eyes bulged. Hoisting the creature, Orcus promptly opened his toothy maw and bit it in half. He munched upon the beast for a bit before unleashing a triumphant hauum that sent shivers through the trees.
The rest of the Cannoks scattered.
Lesson learned? In the face of raw strength, numbers served but to weaken.
A shriek sounded in the distance. Orcus tossed the half-bitten corpse aside and ran. He needed to find shelter before nightfall, or he would end up like that Cannok. Someone else's meal.