MacTavish
The Fist of Nar Shaddaa
It was a typical day on Onderon, humid winds danced across MacTavish’s back, beads of sweat their tango partner. The Kiffu warrior could withstand the heat, he could withstand the humidity, but what he couldn’t stand were the bugs. The crawly bugs infested his every thought in the jungles. It would be a miracle if he made it out with his sanity, let alone a victory. He was in fact planetside for more reasons than to get eaten alive by other living creatures. He was here because he had scheduled a duel with a rising beacon among the Jedi Order’s nimbus of political back and forth.
There was a mutual respect for this Vulpesen however, he was also apart of the Army of Light, potentially the only group of individuals that MacTavish had come across who were willing to do any good without motivation. The young Kiffar Mercenary had signed on with hopes of learning more about weapons and how to use them while also honing his Force skills. Today he would be working on the latter.
It would be easy enough to find the Jedi Knight among the deep forest. There was a gift among the Kiffar people, psychometry, or the ability to read the memories off of inanimate objects. MacTavish Vox happened to carry the genes that enabled his Force connection to include psychometry. The padawan was by no means an expert, but he has used it in the past to hunt down targets and to get glimpses into the past.
Tanned olive hands lay themselves atop the moist Onderon soil, footprints left by the Jedi Knight were fresh, hopefully fresh enough for him to get a good reading. It was always possible his efforts would bear no reward and he would have to trust his instincts to fill in the gaps where the Jedi left no footprints. It was likely a test on the Jedi’s end more than a keen hunter’s eye on MacTavish’s end. Vulpesen had been said to be quite the sleuth, ferretting out darkness wherever it tried to hide, not letting any shadow go unpunished…something the young padawan looked up to.
It wasn’t long until he was close enough to the Jedi that he could practically smell his aura, the Force like a sweet honeysuckle on a warm summer day back on Corellia. Oh how the Jedi wished he could go back to that sweet planet, to have the wheat grasses kiss his sunburnt skins as they did when he was a child. Though it was too late for whining about the past when the present was fifty meters ahead of you with a weapon.
Soon he would be upon his sparring partner, he could practically envision the battle beginning. There was hope within the Kiffar that he would get the drop on the Jedi Knight, but little did he know the Jedi likely knew he was approaching long before MacTavish knew where he was.
Hopefully the Jedi Knight knew the padawan only bore a training saber, either that or MacTavish would be in for a treat when it came to dodging...
@[member="Vulpesen"]
There was a mutual respect for this Vulpesen however, he was also apart of the Army of Light, potentially the only group of individuals that MacTavish had come across who were willing to do any good without motivation. The young Kiffar Mercenary had signed on with hopes of learning more about weapons and how to use them while also honing his Force skills. Today he would be working on the latter.
It would be easy enough to find the Jedi Knight among the deep forest. There was a gift among the Kiffar people, psychometry, or the ability to read the memories off of inanimate objects. MacTavish Vox happened to carry the genes that enabled his Force connection to include psychometry. The padawan was by no means an expert, but he has used it in the past to hunt down targets and to get glimpses into the past.
Tanned olive hands lay themselves atop the moist Onderon soil, footprints left by the Jedi Knight were fresh, hopefully fresh enough for him to get a good reading. It was always possible his efforts would bear no reward and he would have to trust his instincts to fill in the gaps where the Jedi left no footprints. It was likely a test on the Jedi’s end more than a keen hunter’s eye on MacTavish’s end. Vulpesen had been said to be quite the sleuth, ferretting out darkness wherever it tried to hide, not letting any shadow go unpunished…something the young padawan looked up to.
It wasn’t long until he was close enough to the Jedi that he could practically smell his aura, the Force like a sweet honeysuckle on a warm summer day back on Corellia. Oh how the Jedi wished he could go back to that sweet planet, to have the wheat grasses kiss his sunburnt skins as they did when he was a child. Though it was too late for whining about the past when the present was fifty meters ahead of you with a weapon.
Soon he would be upon his sparring partner, he could practically envision the battle beginning. There was hope within the Kiffar that he would get the drop on the Jedi Knight, but little did he know the Jedi likely knew he was approaching long before MacTavish knew where he was.
Hopefully the Jedi Knight knew the padawan only bore a training saber, either that or MacTavish would be in for a treat when it came to dodging...
@[member="Vulpesen"]