Grabbing a Bull by the Teeth

[Armand Temi]

​

After landing her rusty, metal patch-worked freighter in a dusty remote landing strip near the wide plains of Dathomir, Perla covered up her ship in large branches, grass and weeds like a rodent would its nest. On foot she traveled to a nearby savannah near the crystal clear Dreaming River. She created a make-shift encampment by a huddle of boulders and drew out electrobinoculars. On elbows between two rocks she settled in for a long day of surveillance.​

​

On the plains in her line of sight, she knew eventually a group of rare Bull Rancors would shuffle by at this location, looking for water, prey or even a mate.​

​

The witch exile had a female Herd Mother in mind, preferably the female would be injured which is exactly why she came to the plains of Dathomir during rancor mating season. If the rancor was wounded it would allow for a stronger symbiosis between rider and mount. The process of taming her new mount would take a few days but once it was successful she would be able to ride the giant beast into any type of ground battle, to trample soldiers, shear into speeders or grounded shuttles or even swallow whole her enemies.​

​

But how to get the beast off-planet was something she hadn’t quite worked out yet. For now, she patiently waited and watched and let the rising sun tan her bare shoulder blades as she lay on the rocks. ​

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla's legs fell asleep after a couple hours of being on her belly like a snake in the rocks. But they tensed up again as a solitary bull rancor passed through her lenses of her binoculars. And even though there was only one, this was a good sign. The area was known by the local Dathomir witches from the Dreaming River clan to be a favored mating ground for the beasts. The males were incredibly aggressive during mating, goring the females with giant hooked horns on either side of their heads. And this was actually what Perla was hoping for. But then again it could be hours until another bull was spotted and even then it may be a smaller male battling for territory.

After another hour of watching, she began to get antsy and almost considered packing up and moving to another location, but out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a giant Herd Mother approach from the East. The mother was so close, she didn't need her binoculars to see it. And sure enough, the male immediately picked up the scent of the rancor as she headed to the Dreaming River to drink. The male became immediately interested but then his actions became aggressive. He growled and kicked his back legs like a giant rooster. The Herd Mother reared up and viciously hissed and spat at the Bull Rancor male. Clearly she wasn't in the mood, thought Perla.

As Perla kept an eye on the two beasts, she began to pick up what she needed from the encampment - a Mandalorian bevii'ragir, a neuron whip and a couple of medpacs. Once the whip and the pacs tucked away in a leather saatchel worn across her back, she started moving in a crouch towards the two giant creatures with the bevii'ragir clenched in her fist.

 

[Armand Temi]

For whatever reason, the Herd Mother wanted nothing do with the aggressive male and the closer Perla got to the two beasts the more violent the male rancor became toward the female. She winced as she watched him scratch and bite at her and then swing his horns around and into her fleshy stomach. The Herd Mother wailed in pain and splashed into the river to try and escape the relentless blows of the male's horns. She could see blackish blood dripping down the side of the Herd Mother and making its way into the Dreaming River, tainting the blue water with inky black pools. The male Bull bellowed on the banks of the river, marking his territory while the female rolled over on her side, not acquiescing to the male but actually quite wounded now. She would be killed if Perla didn't step in soon. If the Herd Mother wasn't going to be a mate to the Bull, she would certainly be his prey.

In a low roar, Perla shouted a Paecian exclamation to the male rancor. He whipped his head around, stood there and roared at her, spittle lining the corners of his mouth. She used the Force to project her thoughts into the rancor's head. I'm not afraid of you, Koocho. As the enormous Bull Rancor shambled towards her, the witch exile planted her feet into the ground and drew back her bevii'ragir aiming straight for his giant maw.

 

[Armand Temi]

The bevii'ragir sailed out of Perla's strong arm and hit squarely into the male rancor's mouth as it bellowed. She could see that the shaft of the of the Mandalorian spear disappeared into the beast's giant maw and was poking out the temple of his armored head. His eyes rolled back into the head and he crumpled sideways to the ground, where he twitched, spasmodic between life and death.

The witch exile crept quietly along, careful to not get too close to the male. Male bull rancors were notoriously hardy, and even though this one appeared to be dying, she knew he could rouse himself up and engage in battle with her at any given moment. And sure enough, when Perla got closer to the Dreaming River where the Herd Mother was soothing her wounds in the water, the Bull rancor male jumped up and charged towards both the witch and the female rancor. She dashed into the river, hoping to swim into deeper water where she could submerge herself. She felt her dress dragging her down into the river as the water soaked through it but with strong arms and legs she kept herself afloat.

Suddenly the female rancor counter-charged at the male, striking blow after blow with her teeth and claws. The male rancor, mortally wounded, slunk away after the attack to go find a quiet place to die. And there goes my bevii'ragir with him, thought Perla sadly. Maybe if there was time she would find him and extract it later from his corpse. But for now the witch swam to shore and crawled up on the river bank to sit. Now on the quiet of the plains, the Herd Mother and Perla watched each other. She drew out her neuronic whip just in case she was to be attacked next but for now there was a stalemate between witch and her potential new mount.

 

[Armand Temi]

The female rancor shuffled around aimlessly and then collapsed on its belly. Perla could hear its soft breathing through the nostrils. The Dathomir exile moved into a crouch and then onto her hands and knees where next she crawled towards the wounded female. With the Force she reached out to the beast to wash it in ribbons of assurance. "I'm here, mighty one," she projected. "I will heal your wounds. I will be one with you."

Healing the aggressive beast was the first part of the taming ritual, where Perla and the strong female would bond. She just needed to get close enough to climb onto the Herd Mother's back and stay there, soothing the creature. Eventually the rite of passage would include the act of healing itself which the witch initiate was more than prepared to do, but first she needed the Mother's trust in order to straddle her back.

 

[Armand Temi]

Even after about fifteen minutes of stillness, the rancor breathing softly but not moving on its stomach. She could see its giant back raise and fall with each breath. But as Perla finally crept close enough to climb atop the beast, female rancor snapped viciously at her. She winced at the sharp pain and noticed a deep gash on her hand where the rancor bit. "Stupid schutta," she muttered as she scrambled backwards. "I'm trying to help you."

Grumbling, she tore off a piece of her skirt hem and wrapped her bleeding hand up. She saw the rancor's nostrils twitch at the smell of blood but the bull rancor still lay on the ground, tired and too wounded to do anything about her hunger. Perla decided to try the Force healing from where she sat instead of up close and personal on the rancor's back.

Her Force powers were extremely nascent but luckily she had seen the healing ritual done many times before with her sisters of The Great Canyon Clan. Perla sat comfortably in the grass and crossed her hands across her chest. She began to meditate, concentrating on waves of white energy which would eventually radiate unseen from her hands once she mediated long enough. That is if, she was able to channel the Force correctly.

 

[Armand Temi]

The healing meditation was all Perla focused on for literally hours. Both she and the rancor sat in their respective places under the hot sun, quiet and contemplative. A couple of times the witch's concentration was broken by a sudden thirst. She knew the Dreaming River was clean enough to drink from - not to mention how cool the water would feel on her sunburned skin. But she brought her focus back to The Force and the restoration she needed to provide to the rancor in order to seal the bond between rider and mount. She stretched her hands out and could feel waves of soft energy emanating from them. Perla kept her eyes closed and envisioned herself soothing the rancor's ragged cuts, stitching the gaping holes and flushing out the bacteria. She kept up the slow pace of healing with Force energy for a couple of hours. Finally opening her eyes, she was overjoyed to see the rancor sitting up, the wounds still there but closed and no longer bleeding.

The female rancor was eyeing her curiously. Perla first rose and went to the Dreaming River to drink, wash off the dirt and cool her skin. She floated in the river for awhile and then, her bare feet traveling from river mud to grass, climbed atop of the rancor. The reptomammal was no longer angry or afraid so Perla dug her heels into its flanks but softly and guided it to the river to also drink. After quenching its thirst, she whispered to it in Paecian and they rode back to her makeshift camp. Before dismounting she carefully reached out to its sentient brain with the Force to examine how strong the bond was. The strength of the bond surprised her and she stroked the beast under her, laughing almost at how easy it seemed now to have tamed her.

But if that wasn't hard enough, now came a monumental challenge. How was she going to get the giant rancor off of Dathomir when her freighter was too small and she herself was a wanted exile on the planet? She jumped down and drew her datapad out from her belongings. She sent a transmission to a name she had picked up along the way on her travels, not remembering how or why she had came upon the smuggler's information:

//incoming transmission...

To: [member="Orick T'ane"]

Need transport for cargo from Dathomir to Bastion. I'm near the Dreaming River and there's an abandoned landing strip nearby. Freighter must be big. Bring chains. I'll supply the goat. $50,000 credits.

xo Perla

//transmission ending...

 

[Orick T'ane]

Orick looked down at the saved transmission and frowned, He had exited hyperspace much closer than he wanted to, but this was obviously not a planet he was looking to attract attention on so he cut it a bit close.

...Bring chains. I'll supply the goat... what the Kriff was he going to haul that required chains and a goat for. Chains weren't much of a problem, everyone had them, and they were cheap for the most part. His ship slipped into the atmosphere with little problem, but it did cloud up his sensors a bit. One of the many problems of being a smuggler was that you didn't always rely on the system's electronics to guide your ship into a planet, mostly because you didn't want the system to know you were even there. He checked the coordinates again and made sure the ship was on the right heading before he checked the pistols on his belt. He wasn't sure what to expect from this trip, and he was going to be as cautious as he needed to be. The small locker next to his chair was open and he could see the small scattergun inside, one of the other preventative tools he kept at hand in case he needed it.

He saw the landing strip clear enough, as well as another smaller freighter, one that was in even worse shape than the Ranger. He guided the ship down and cut the engines. He sighed and sat there for a second, not even sure he wanted to get out and deal with whatever it was that was going to happen today. Money was money and he heeded it, the ship was in need of repairs and a refit or two, and as long as there was on additional damage from whatever this run brought he would be fine.

He opened the cargo doors at the back of the ship and made his way down and out of the ship. He had never been to Dathomir before, it seemed to be a world that was intent on being hot. He could feel the wrongness of the entire thing, like there was an electric tint to the air. He didn't figure he'd be back any time soon either. There wasn't anyone there to meet him as he got off the ship, and he noticed that the other ship was shut down and covered in branches. He guessed he was waiting, he hoped it wasn't long, He didn't want to stick around here longer than he needed to. He glanced back onto the ship and to the pile of chains that were the only cargo he had in his hold and he frowned.
..bring chains. I'll supply the goat...

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

 

[Armand Temi]

By the time the smuggler landed, Perla had already hunted a couple of pygmy goats for the trip to Bastion. While her Force bond was now intact with the female bull rancor, the creature would certainly be hostile to the newcomer as well as hungry during the journey.

The exiled witch sat astride her rancor and shielded her eyes from the sun, watching the large freighter land nearby. She didn't need to wave him over - it was clear that Perla and the beast cut an imposing enough figure that there is no way he would miss them. The female rancor growled in warning and she could feel the beast's guttural moan through the skin of her legs. She reached down and stroked its head, whispering, "Easy now. Shhhhh." But if the rancor was skittish now, she began to worry about how it was going to react when the ship's repulsors kicked in.

But at least the smuggler before her was strong and muscular. She wasn't sure where he was from but with his long hair and tan skin, the human would almost fit right in on Dathomir, of course as a slave to the Daughters of Allya. Perla climbed down from the bull rancor and held her hand up to the beast, giving it a command in Paecian. The rancor obeyed and stayed where it was, still growling and frothing at the mouth.

Perla approached the smuggler, smiling. He would see that even though she wore a long, black tank dress, she was very disheveled; the dress was ripped in a few places and especially at the hem. Her face and body, though sun-kissed and athletic, was covered in dust, blood and rancor spittle. The witch initiate really hoped there was a clean refresher on board his ship. She could do with a long hot shower.

"I'm Perla Pirjo," she said introducing herself. "I haven't picked out a name for Old Ugly over there yet." She reached out and grabbed a set of the chains which T'ane held and said, "Are you ready to do this?"

[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

The first thing he thought when he saw the woman riding up on the rancor is that he was being rolled. Someone was waiting to ambush him and this was going to be the distraction that got him a killed. The rancor was huge, and it was ugly and it stunk, but the woman that rode the beast was the real mystery. Her outfit looked like it would fit in on any number of worlds, and she could have easily passed for a fashion model. She had obviously be out in the wold for some time, she desperately needed to a bath and a change of clothes. The way she looked at him was a bit of a concern though, like she was a nexu sizing up it's next meal.

He sighed and let go of the chains that he was holding as she took them. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on,but he was pretty sure that he knew. " I've got a bad feeling about this" he mumbled as he looked on. " Orick T'ane," He said nodding. " You've got me here, and I have an empty ship, just as you requested. You never said exactly what it was that you were transporting off of this rock, but I have a feeling it's big ugly over there." He said shaking his head. He wasn't really sure how she was going to get that monster onto his ship, or how she planned on keeping it docile long enough to get it to Bastion.

" How exactly do you want me to help you? I'm not sure that you're 'mount'" He said almost questioningly, " is going to be very cooperative with me"

[member="Perla Pirjo"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla smirked at Orick, noticing his hesitation and said, "I'm not going to chain you up. But we'll have to get the female tied up somehow." She began wrapping one end of the chain around her hand like a rope, leaving some slack. As she spoke to the smuggler, she fastened the other end of the chain into a lasso.

"And you're right, she won't be cooperative with you but she will for me. And if all else fails, maybe we can stun her somehow."

Perla strode over to the rancor who sensed danger and lunged at her. She sidestepped the lunge and chanting in Paecian, the witch held up her hands, her fingers doing a delicate dance in front of the large creature's maw. If the smuggler was Force sensitive he would pick up the vibrations from her, the soothing waves of Force energy she was projecting to the female rancor through their Force bond. The beast eventually settled down and let Perla loop the chain around its neck. She began leading it over slowly, not getting too close to Orick, but eventually the rancor dug its heels into the grass, and like a stubborn mule, would not go any further.

"Okay this is where I need your help, friend," she said, looking back at him. "Bring the rest of the chains and you're going to tie her hands while I keep her pacified with the Force. Trust me on this. If her front limbs are tied, she cannot strike out nor can she walk very well. She also uses those powerful hands for balance."

[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

He wasn't sure of he should laugh or be worried, she was intent on taking that monster of an animal into space with them. If that thing managed to get loose it would almost certainly kill all of them, and here she was, casually making jokes about it like there was nothing wrong with the idea.

He nodded as she approached the beast. " Yeah stun the huge monster so that we can push it aboard my ship. I hope whatever you have planned works, because that idea sounds terrible." He watched her as she began to wave her hands around in an intricate pattern, the pieces falling into place. She's one of those witches, she's using sorcery to control the rancor. He only hopped it would work long enough to get the thing bolted down on to his ship. He could almost feel the air around his ship changing a bit as she worked whatever spell she was using. He wasn't force sensitive so he only hoped that whatever it was wouldn't call down the wrath of some crazed Sith or Jedi down on him, he didn't need those kind of problems in his life.

" You want me to WHAT?" He stared at her in disbelief, she wanted him to wrap chains around a rancor that she had under a magic spell. He shook his head and grabbed the rest of the chains. He approached the pacified beast carefully, almost timidly, glancing back at her occasionally to ensure she was still paying attention to her task. He was in front of the thing much sooner than he liked, and he had to hold his breath, the beast stunk worse than he had ever imagined anything alive would smell. He knew Hutts that didn't smell as bad as this thing did. He carefully took one of the ends of chain and began to wrap one of the huge claws up in it. The beast didn't move at all, if anything, it almost seemed to allow him to guide it's large hands into the chain as he wrapped them up. It was several minutes before he had enough of the chain around the rancor's hands for him to be sure it wouldn't break loose.

He stepped back and sighed, he turned to [member="Perla Pirjo"] and shook his head slightly, " Alright now that that is over, how do we get this big boy to behave on my ship?" He remembered a story from when he was a kid about a beautiful woman and an enormous monster, and how everything had gone wrong when they took that monster out of the wild and into the world.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla snapped out of her meditation and immediately the rancor let out a loud, long bellow right at Orick T'ain. He could feel its hot breath on his face and if he thought the beast smelled bad in proximity, it was nothing compared to when it opened its mouth. The witch was unphased by the smell or the rancor who snarled and strained at the lead towards Orick. But she did yank back on the chain with both hands which made the rancor whimper.

"You handled her quite impressively, smuggler. You sure you're not from Dathomir?" Perla teased. She wasn't sure to whom he was allied with in the galaxy, and perhaps like her, it was ultimately to no one but himself, but she liked this Orick T'ain. He exhibited a reluctant bravery which was refreshing to be around. She peered around him and inspected his ship again.

"I'm going to pull her over and we'll dump her in the cargo hold and shut the door. As long as there's nothing else in there she can damage, she will be safe. Then when we' e on our way to Bastion, I'll slip into the hold and feed her."

Suddenly nervous, the witch looked at her surroundings and said, "C'mon we're wasting time here. If I'm found by my clan, let's just say they're not going to throw me a homecoming party unless it's one where I'm drawn and quartered." WIth that said, Perla began pulling female bull rancor towards Orick's immense freighter.

[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

The bellowing roar startled Orick and he jumped back. The fetid air and the spittle were enough for him to realize that he wanted nothing more to do with the beast. He wanted this run to be over as soon as possible, the smell would take weeks to wash out of his ship and he had a bad feeling that most of the money from this run would go to sterilizing the ship once it was done. He turned to her as she made the joke about him being a local, " If I was I would have left as soon as I was able to. I'm not fresh off the farm though, and I've been around long enough to pick up a thing or two." He left the statement at that, he was find with letting her wonder about how much he actually knew. I'll play her game right back. He thought to himself. He was weary of her ever since he had seen her using the sorcery. She's a wild card, that one. She hides behind her looks and her jokes, but get too close and you'll likely find a knife in your gut.

He listened to her as she set out the plan to get the beast on the ship. " There's a control panel at the back of the cargo bay, it's right next to the small hatch that leads to the rest of the ship. The bridge is 10 meters down the corridor, I'm going to go around and enter through the side hatch. I'll get the engines warmed up and get her prepped for take off." He hoped that she would be able to handle the rancor by herself, because he was done dealing with it.

He saw [member="Perla Pirjo"] tense up and his blaster pistols were in his hands in a flash. He began to scan the surrounding area for what had caused her to suddenly become so frightened. He knew that if he was caught with her he would likely share in whatever fate she did, and he didn't really feel like dying for a measly 50 thousand credits. " Kriff, I guess that explains why you needed me to get you out of here." He was already in motion headed towards the bridge, head still searching for any signs of trouble.

 

[Armand Temi]

After Orick T'ane went around to the front of the ship, Perla gathered up her belongings and the goats which she first loaded into the cargo bay. Then she lead the rancor by the chain around its neck and it finally lumbered into the ship's hold. She would have to come back for her hunk-of-junk ship later, she thought.

After securing the beast as best she could with the chains and giving it one of the goats to chew on, the witch initiate followed T'ane's instructions and made her way from the cargo hold into the interior of the ship. She found Orick on the bridge and she inspected the inside of the freighter. It wasn't luxurious but it was big and appeared to be in decent shape. "She's in the hold and it should be secure now."

The exiled witch sat down and curled up in the co-pilot's seat beside him. "So what's your story anyway?" she asked, sitting down next to him in the co-pilot's seat. "Tell me about yourself. How did you get to be a smuggler?"

[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

Orick opened the hatch on the side of the ship and quickly slipped inside. He wasted no time in rushing to the cockpit and jumping into the pilots seat. He started flipping the switched that would pump fuel into the primary engines and began the sequence that would ignite them. It only took a few moments for the sounds of the engines to reach him. He smiled as he felt the power vibrate through the ship. He strapped himself in to the chair and waited for [member="Perla Pirjo"].

He smelt her before he saw her, she quickly entered and dropped herself into the chair next to him. He nodded as she brought him up to speed on the rancor. " I really hope she doesn't eat any of my ship ." He wasn't really worried, the Ranger had seen worse since he had been running with her, but he was hoping to keep the damage to a minimum.

He glanced over at her as she asked her question, he wasn't quite sure how to answer without lying, so he figured he'd just omit anything that she didn't need to know. " Well, I spent most of my life in space. I did a tour with the Pubs as a marine, didn't really like the structure so I left. I did a stint with a merc group, but they chose bad jobs because of the money. I left to become an freighter captain and I kind of just fell into smuggling." He shrugged. "Not really exciting, but it's a living."

He wondered if she planned on getting cleaned up and decided that she probably needed a bit of a push. " what about you? You're not exactly normal in the sense of the word. But before you begin, you mind hitting the refresher? No offense, but you smell almost as bad as your pet back there." He wasn't trying to be mean, he just thought she should know.

It wasn't long before they were airborne, the ship shooting into the atmosphere quickly. He began typing the coordinates for Bastion into the nav computer and waited for it to spit out the most efficient course.

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla listened to the smuggler recount the tale of how he got into the position he was in. And it was clear between the both of them that the witch desperately needed a shower. Finally when he said, "No offense, but you smell almost as bad as your pet back there." Perla sighed and finally admitted. "I know you're right, Mesh'la (which meant beautiful in Huttse and a variety of other languages.)

The witch initiate went back into the ship's refresher, stripping off all of her clothing and took the longest, most luxurious shower. Exiting the refresher she didn't really want to change back into her bloody, dusty clothing. She came to the bridge a towel and said, "Do you have anything to change into?"

It may have seemed bold but Perla was a warrior at heart. Nudity was not a concept she spent a lot of time thinking about. She dressed herself for battle, among the Primeval warriors and if they glimpsed her skin the process, so be it


[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

He heard her response and frowned a bit, he waited until he left before he shook his head. Was she calling me beautiful, or was she referring to the fact that I have a 'fresher on the ship? He always got confused when women were flirty like that, sometimes ti was all just playful banter to pass the time, but others it was a serious attempt at making a pass at him. She was very attractive, there was no doubt about it, but he was currently dating one of the most amazing women he had ever met, and he didn't fool around. He just needed to figure out what [member="Perla Pirjo"] meant with the comment without making it obvious that he was trying to figure it out.

He took the alone time as a chance to check on the status of the ship, everything seemed to be in order, and her pet hadn't caused any real damage to the ship, other than making sure it would smell like a bantha pit for weeks to come. He heard her step back into the bridge and he turned slightly and stopped, she was just out of the 'fresher and was wrapped only in a towel. He chuckled a bit at her question and sighed. " Well, the first door past the 'fresher is the spare cabin, last person that was in there was a client of mine a couple of years ago. She was around your build and I never have a reason to go in there. She may have left something in there when she left, she was in a bit of a hurry when things were said and done. If not I may have something, but it's guaranteed to be big on you."

He didn't mind that she was wearing only a towel, she wasn't unattractive, but he didn't know her and he didn't want there to be any misunderstandings about how things worked on his ship. If she decided to go check out the room, she would find that it was a small cabin with a bunk built into the wall and a small wardrobe style closet next to it. There was nothing else in the room except a light layer of dust and a set of slightly musty sheets. Inside the wardrobe, folded neatly she would find a thin bodysuit and a pair of synth-leather slippers with rubber soles.

 

[Armand Temi]

"Thank you," said Perla and she went into the cabin to change. She opened the wardrobe and pulled out the bodysuit, frowning slightly. The witch didn't like being covered in so much clingy fabric but right now she didn't have a choice. Her own clothing which she left on the floor of the refresher could be incinerated right now and she would be fine with that.

Perla exited the cabin and went to check on the bull rancor which she decided to name Xana. She didn't hear anything but a loud snoring sound. Aw, she was asleep. Probably lulled by the white noise in the cargo hold, Perla thought. Satisfied that the creature was okay, she came back to the bridge of the ship and sat again next to Orick T'ane.

"How much longer until we arrive?" the witch asked. She had sent the Primeval headquarters a message to expect her and hopefully bring some animal handlers. But she wasn't sure how the Primeval emissaries would react to T'ane. Normally any outsiders that showed up even remotely near the Imperial Palace were quickly captured and "indoctrinated" into the Primeval religion. If they didn't comply they were whipped, tortured and locked away to starve in the Imperial Dungeon. Or better they would be fed to a carnivorous animal like Xana - at least that was a quick death.

[member="Orick T'ane"]

 

[Orick T'ane]

He checked the computer readouts and the estimated arrival times and shrugged a bit, " Well travel time is only a few more hours, once we reach Bastion, that's another story. I've never been that fat into Primeval territory before and i have no idea what to expect as far as customs and delays go. But perhaps you can push all of that along. I would appreciate it if you did, I can't really afford to be stuck in one place for long." He made most of his money smuggling through constant work, or the occasional big score, but he would be more than able to slow down for a couple of weeks with the money he was getting from this job, but he wasn't going to tell [member="Perla Pirjo"] that, he wanted to get as far from the Primeval capital as possible, as fast as possible.

He changed the subject before she could really respond to his statement, " How's the big ugly doing back there?" This trip hadn't been a waste of time, he had learned a few new things about what witches could do, and had gotten an up close and personal view of a rancor without becoming a snack, so it was definitely something he would talk about the next time he was drinking with the guys.

He wondered what was going on in the cray head of hers. she seemed nice enough for a witch, and a follower of that Primeval religion. But he wasn't really sure how things would end up, would she end up being honorable and paying him, or was he going to be fighting his way off of Bastion. He really hoped it was the former and not the latter, if even half of what he heard about the Primeval was true, their type of crazy was well outside his wheelhouse, and he was happy not ever finding out just how far outside that was.