RC 212
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!
Dathomir
Witchcraft and wizardry. Having mastered a few force traditions Jack was no stranger to power of the Dark, the Light and the otherworldly witches of Dathomir. And that was why he was here. Legend had it his mother Vassara had been marked by a Witch on the distant uncharted planet of Tortuga.
What it was that stirred within the steel jawed man did not know, but it had drawn him here, to train under the auspices of the Dark and leafy jungle canopies. His Aunt was a witch, a notorious pirate known only as Althea. She was not around much, appearing here and there to wreak terror and devastation and disappearing.
But Jack was here for power. More power meant more glory. And glory would surely be his.
"Again."
The incense of the covens obsidian halls wafted into his lungs, thick and pungent with spice. The figure lifted a hand and spoke, crushing a stick of bark and Jack was quick to react. Spiderweb's of sickening purple energy lanced out across the floor.
Both of his dirty palms came up, facing the other and he roared, unleashing a guttural string of syllables. Purple Witch lightning crashed upon the green shield of roaring light he had produced. The sparks arced and bounced, threatening to fry his flesh.
"True power is given to only the worthy Raxis child!"
"Then I think you'll find me more than deserving hag!"
The shield pushed away, as one hand went left, discarding the arcane shield. From his back he ripped his lever action shotgun loose from it's leather sheath. It spun once, and leveled on the Witches face, whilst a shell locked into the chamber with a resounding click.
The other hand closed into a fist and Jack roared, recalling all his rage and anger from the past few years. Years of torment, battle and strife.
A Tusken raider phrase escaped him as he knelt, driving the fist right into the stone floor. The cavern shook, floor ripping asunder under the power. Stones and rubble cascaded forwards as the earth cracked in a straight line, launching a wave of stone towards the Witch, threatening to drop her in and swallow her whole.
"Enough!" She roared, leaping aside.
"You have shown your true spirit. What it is you desire with us?"
There was a pause, and then he spoke....
"Everything. Starting With the Bloodtrail curse you folks cast on my mother, and I suspect our bloodline all together!"
Witchcraft and wizardry. Having mastered a few force traditions Jack was no stranger to power of the Dark, the Light and the otherworldly witches of Dathomir. And that was why he was here. Legend had it his mother Vassara had been marked by a Witch on the distant uncharted planet of Tortuga.
What it was that stirred within the steel jawed man did not know, but it had drawn him here, to train under the auspices of the Dark and leafy jungle canopies. His Aunt was a witch, a notorious pirate known only as Althea. She was not around much, appearing here and there to wreak terror and devastation and disappearing.
But Jack was here for power. More power meant more glory. And glory would surely be his.
"Again."
The incense of the covens obsidian halls wafted into his lungs, thick and pungent with spice. The figure lifted a hand and spoke, crushing a stick of bark and Jack was quick to react. Spiderweb's of sickening purple energy lanced out across the floor.
Both of his dirty palms came up, facing the other and he roared, unleashing a guttural string of syllables. Purple Witch lightning crashed upon the green shield of roaring light he had produced. The sparks arced and bounced, threatening to fry his flesh.
"True power is given to only the worthy Raxis child!"
"Then I think you'll find me more than deserving hag!"
The shield pushed away, as one hand went left, discarding the arcane shield. From his back he ripped his lever action shotgun loose from it's leather sheath. It spun once, and leveled on the Witches face, whilst a shell locked into the chamber with a resounding click.
The other hand closed into a fist and Jack roared, recalling all his rage and anger from the past few years. Years of torment, battle and strife.
A Tusken raider phrase escaped him as he knelt, driving the fist right into the stone floor. The cavern shook, floor ripping asunder under the power. Stones and rubble cascaded forwards as the earth cracked in a straight line, launching a wave of stone towards the Witch, threatening to drop her in and swallow her whole.
"Enough!" She roared, leaping aside.
"You have shown your true spirit. What it is you desire with us?"
There was a pause, and then he spoke....
"Everything. Starting With the Bloodtrail curse you folks cast on my mother, and I suspect our bloodline all together!"