1st Post
-SURVIVING THE FUTURE-
THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF THE DARK THREE
Tags:
Ushyrtan Etogaur
THE BLOODHOUND SAGA I: STARING INTO FLAME - PART 1
Dragon-Rest Station, Western Wastes,
Koron Province, Mar'Zambul
The ones who served before me, they know these people.
And I need allies now more than ever - its almost too convenient.
But then again, these aren't the Swarm - different rules apply.
Since their last visit to Scar Hound space, much had changed on Mar'Zambul and Rhigar alike, but then again, the Bloodhound couldn't deny that much had also changed for everyone in the Galaxy in turn.
This only made the one-eyed Woad all the more curious, giving him reason enough to keep the Tribe's devoted warrior atop Mt. Cerberus until ordered otherwise, as despite the dangers posed by sudden, unprompted landings on their home-planet, the invitation itself seemed to compound the fact there was something of a hidden test of bravery in the foreign Warmaster's message. Under other circumstances, and in consideration of other such divine scourges on the Galaxy, other blood-letters of Mawite or Sith ideals, there was a chance this test would have been an effort to find weakness or indecision in the spirit of rivalry. But this Apostle of Apocalypse was a different matter entirely, as the visitor seemed to retain warrior-like traits that seemed more in line with a Goidelic test of a potential ally's resolve, almost as if this individual could see potential in the Scar Hounds already.
More than enough reason for the Bloodhound to descend from his seat of power to meet this gathering alone, as a solitary showing of bravery would be enough, deciding then to stroll unarmed towards their camp as if he was discovering them by random chance. Even going so far as to indulge in pretending to be a Marauder of lower rank to his own, just to see how long it would take for the new arrivals to realise who was gracing their camps with his presence, and to further goad himself into going through with it, Thomas rationalised this as the least-harmful way to get an accurate read on the collective-mindset of their visitors.
'You, in the skull mask - stay right there!'
And yet, it seemed like Barran's best-laid plans were as easily foiled as they were imagined.
'Identify yourself, Raider!'
Whoever this mysterious fellow was, the one leading them was extremely-well protected, as it seemed quite miraculous to allow someone almost twice Barran's size and mass to get the drop on him so suddenly. But in the Bloodhound's equally-miraculous good fortune, the silent bodyguard had not yet picked up on who he was holding at axe-point at the time, and in the spirit of twisted Marauders' humour, decided there and then to keep his lips firmly on the matter.
'Hold that thought, you can tell the King of Wolves yourself.... Now start walking! Move!'
Every last member of the attending retinue (or at least all those who were close enough to see the visage of the hooded, masked captive in detail) would be able to hear the Bloodhound's poorly-stifled mirth, giggling away to himself as he passed them by, and all believed then that the silent-moving bodyguard had snatched up a local, stumbling buffoon of little or no importance. But despite their clear assumptions, none were acting out of turn, signifying something very specific to the Bloodhound in these moments, as solid, stalwart discipline of the sort was difficult to find in the Unknown Regions. The one-eyed Woad could feel it most of all in their silence, as he expected at least a little jeering or insults as his soundtrack for a while, but all their mouths were shut; and contrary to the heat of the raging campfires, the general temperament was cooler than the calmest of sea breezes, a testament to trained cohesion as much as it was to matters of energy-saving restraint.
'Sit as still as you can, Raider. And keep those hands of yours where we can see them - good.... Now, if you won't answer to me, then perhaps you might answer to my leader here.... You may introduce yourself - to the King of Wolves!'
Even whilst shrouded by the shifting, windy shadows, Thomas could tell Ushyrtan was formidable, and to such extremes that even Barran himself began to understand Etogaur's potential, staying perfectly-still as he visualised battle conditions of Hellish design that brought out the best in titans of Ushyrtan's sort. The Bloodhound could see almost immediately (and with great, prophetic ease-) that beings much larger, or stronger, would be needed just to see a fraction of the armoured giant's true power, seeing the makings of an effective war-machine before the King of Wolves had even bothered to step closer to the flames. Not that Etogaur needed such a display to exude that fearsome, violent aura, as Barran could still see it emanating well-enough with the one eye he had left, along with Ushyrtan's demonic gaze as it studied the masked captive.
Almost as if he could see the face behind the gold already, but in that shared scrutiny between them, the Bloodhound was given reason enough to bring his little intel-gathering game to an end. Enough had been learned already, and if it made no sense to play the role any longer, then Barran would quickly return to the right side of caution for the sake of making better first-impressions, and improved chances of survival. Powerful though the Woad had become, he was smart enough not to test his limits against a collective of vocational, skull-crushing warfighters, as even the strongest of Barran's cyborgs were likely to fail in a struggle against these titans.
'Ya see, the thing is - I'm not sure you would believe me if I told you outright. But if it's any consolation at all, belief has steadily become a big part of our lives here.... I am the Bloodhound, the Omen of Durace, Great-Khan of the Scar Hounds, an' the chosen Champion of the Dark Three.... See? But yes, I am the one you seek - despite how utterly insane I appear to be.'
Thomas Barran
here. We were not friends, probably not even allies. There was not much of the Maw left and usually it was tearing itself apart and only minor remnants persisted around the galactic plain. His and my own were two of them, there was another in the Outer Rim called Ekaddon the Arsonist, but he was a known coward. Thomas on the other hand, was a semi-prominent character, an individual who was feared and infamous. I did not have aspirations for it.
