The Hunt (IC)

[kartoffelfogel]

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The drums died down.

The lights around the edge of the amphitheater dimmed as their counterparts near the center brightened. Voices chatting in half a dozen languages faded, as the speaker’s attentions focused at the figures below them. Nearly the entire population of the city of Ascended Obelisk was there, and yet they only occupied about a fifth of the amphitheater’s seating.

Another fifth was occupied by citizens that had come from the sister city of Descended Obelisk, down at the lakeside. Although Descended Obelisk was larger than its counterpart, it had no claim on the event that had brought the two cities and the population of many other cities, colonies and even worlds together.

It was not they who hosted the Sanctified Hunt.

All the theater’s occupants looked onto the raised platform in the center. The platform was ringed by Sangheili clad in amber-colored armor that glowed. Their presence would have been enough to freeze someone in their tracks—but even more awe-inspiring than they were the two Prophets that they guarded.

The Magistrate shifted her chair until it hovered at the center of the platform. She had been given charge of the colony of Templar’s Rest—the office of Magistrate was only held by Prophets, and only needed in worlds that housed more than one species.

And almost every species of the Covenant was in attendance tonight.
Brutes, with their shaggy fur and wicked blades, eager to show their prowess in the hunt, eager to see whether the game here tasted like Thorn Beast. Clever Kig-Yar, with nets and spears. A number of Grunts were also present, mainly as assistants to the other species. A flight of Yanme’e, even, a rare sight on worlds belonging to other species. Tall, proud Sangheili—those who first participated in the Sanctified Hunt—those who had hunted until there was naught left to hunt. Only the Lekgolo saw fit not to attend.

But despite the diversity and multitude that accounted for the usual attendees of the Hunt, there was least an equal number that were here for a special occasion.

The military.

Soldiers of every breed—although they did not wear uniforms, or armor, you could see it in their eyes. In their bearing. Hear it in their words, and feel it in their presence. They were hardened veterans who now longed to kill something besides humans.

It was a brilliant idea, the Magistrate reflected. It was a way of letting the warriors relax while keeping them physically active.

“Peoples of the Covenant!”

“We are met today in celebration of an event that is holy to the Forerunners—and therefore sanctified. We have so gathered here for the sake of pursuing ba’knwa—the beast that dwells in the holiest of places.”

“Long ago, during the first Ages of the Covenant, both Prophets and Sangheili found this verdant world, bathed in the light of this golden sun.”

“And on this world, they found structures—temples—of the Forerunners. So here they stayed, and grew hale and hearty.”

“But upon exploration of these temples, we Prophets found that they were—inhabited!”

The Magistrate let her voice carry through the ranks of the amphitheatre and fade away.

“The beast that dwelled within the temples was fast—clever. They looked like lizards—they bore four legs, each with two knees. They had large tails, with spikes shrouding the tip. They had long, curved beaks that were deadly to the unwary. And strangest of all, they would swim away from the temple, where killing them was forbidden—when other moons could be seen.”

“So they were named ba’knwa—moon beasts.”

“And the ba’knwa, by the work of the gods, could be eaten—and not only could it be eaten, but it tasted superior to any meat less holy.”

“So the first peoples of the Covenant hunted, and hunted, till the ba’knwa began to grow few. It was too easy to kill them from afar—it took skill to kill them up close. So the Prophets of that Age decreed they could only be hunted with spear and blade, club and net, as was honorable.”

A growl of approval moved through the crowd.

“Yet still that was not enough.”

“The peoples of the Covenant were hunters too clever, chasers too quick!”

Another cheer.

“So it was decreed that only when the other seven moons of the planet Oasis, around which this world orbits, could be seen in the sky, and the ba’knwa were most plentiful, could they be hunted!”

A series of understand grunts emanated from the Sangheili and Kig-Yar, as most of the other races confused by the complex sentence structure and syntax.

“And so, since that night, we have hunted the ba’knwa only when all seven moons could be seen in the sky!”

“We hunt the old way. With spears and blades, clubs and nets…”

Here, the Magistrate paused. She did not like the savagery suggested and caused by the next few phrases, but she had long since learned that the crowd liked it.

“…with fang and claw!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

The crowd roared back. “And tooth and talon!”

As was custom, she cried ‘fang and claw’ seven more times, each louder, and the crowd answered accordingly.

She then raised her hand.

“Go! Out of this theatre, out of the city, and climb your way down to the lake and its environs. Hunt as many of the beasts as you can. There are knives and blades to be purchased in the city, if you have not brought your own. And as tradition demands, whosoever brings down the most beasts shall be personally commended as Great Hunter!”

“Onward, onto the Sanctified Hunt!”

[laughingman]

The sense of excitement, thrill, and awe that hung in the air filled Xiga 'Rthinee with its promise of bloodshed. This was the essence of honor, of tradition, and of the glorious hunt. Just to be here, the younger Sangheili felt even more honored than when he had been promoted so recently to Major Domo.

Crowds of Unggoy, Kig-yar, and fellow Sangheili mulled about before the speech took place. The city of Ascended Obelisk was a great sight to behold, and further testament to the truly boundless glory of the Holy Covenant. Kig-yar traders tried to hock their wares outside the ampitheatre, in areas where the guards weren't looking or didn't care. Xiga paid them no mind, as he had everything he needed.

The Sangheili Major Domo loped his way into the theatre just as the lights dimmed, pushing passed two Unggoy who threw up no protest and simply scattered away from him. Taking a seat, Xiga listened to the Magistrate, but his eyes were on the Honor Guard. What tales they must have, what songs of glory great warriors such as them must hold in their hearts. But- His eyes wandered, looking for any bearing the familiar Special Operations harnesses. He didn't spot any, which made sense in itself anyway.

The speech was bold and long, and enjoyable, since Xiga had specifically manuevered himself away from an Jiralhanae, he didn't have to smell them or be too close to their ignorant, barbaric cheers and grunts. Neither did Xiga join in the cheering of Talons and Teeth, for that was simply barbaric in itself. No, his hand rested on the hilt of his short, straight-edged blade. It was his weapon from home - given to him when he rose in ranks to lead the defense of his family's keep on Sangheilios. He was allowed it for this very specific occassion, with the promise to bring back trophies and honour the Rthin bloodline.

The masses started filing out of the theatre when everything was done, and Xiga filed along with a group of Sangheili before breaking off to go his own way. The warrior was clad in his deep crimson armor, marking his place in the Covenant military as a Major Domo, leader of his own Lance. It was an honour he was glad to bring home, and had celebrated greatly. Now he was to bring home more, and further raise the glory of the Rthin bloodline.

Voices murmered and the music that had re-started after the speech could still be heard even down the quiet avenue on which Xiga stalked. He was on a hiatus from all technology. A Self-imposed hiatus. Even his Combat Harness' energy shields were turned off. This was a matter of honor, and he wanted it to be as fair as possible. If he died, then he would die fighting like a warrior, and if he lived, then it would be an even greater honor!

Xiga 'Rthinee quickened his pace, passing a group of chittering Kig-yar and more scattered groups of all forms of Covenant aliens talking to each other. The seven moons hung lazily in the sky, like judges to determine who the most honorable warrior was. Judging who lived and who died. Judging who fought with the most honor, and who was an honorless failure.

What a glorious day this would be...

.. If only it weren't for the Jiralhanae...

Xiga 'Rthinee stopped for a moment, staring down a trio of Jiralhanae hunters who were taking up most of the avenue's walking area. His hands instinctively went to his hilt, but the blade remain sheathed. To draw meant one was to kill, and even though he would like nothing more, they were still members of the covenant.

He let out a growl under his breath. That was a mistake.

The lead Jiralhanae sniffed the air and turned,

"Ba-ha! Problem, Sangheili?" The creature bellowed, fangs glistening with his lust for the coming bloodshed. It seemed to already be affecting the over-sized ape man,

"Not yet, and I fear the Heirarchs prefer us to keep it that way." Replied Xiga 'Rthinee smoothly as he toned his voice down, even though his mandibles twitched with lust for battle.

The other two spun on the Major Domo as a crowd of Kig-yar and Unggoy nearby stopped talking. It seemed as though everything stood still. As if the whole world, save the blaring music from the ampitheatre, fell silent just to see what would happen next.

Xiga matched and locked eyes with the much larger creature, standing tall and straight as the Jiralhanae did the same. Then the Brute broke the silence,

"Perhaps you are right, for now. But down there.. Be wary. I have your scent, and we may very well meet again." The hunter laughed and turned to his fellows,

"For your sake I hope you pray that does not happen." the Elite shot back coolly, gauging a reaction. The Jiralhanae growled and spun, hand clutching the crude, axe-shaped weapon and raising it as if he was about to strike. Xiga shifted one hoof back and rested his other hand on the sheath of his blade, daring the Creature to move even as its counterparts grabbed their own weapons,

"We will see..." The Jiralhanae spoke, lowering his weapon at last. Niether of them were dumb enough to fight within the city. But once they got down to the hunting grounds, it was free for all. The Major Domo made sure to remind himself he would have to keep an eye out.

Xiga 'Rthinee relaxed his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked around to realize they had attracted attention. Quickening his pace, the Sangheili moved out and down, toward the outskirts of Ascended Obelisk.

[Dufflepud]

Nyla Katolai strode through the marketplace, where members of every race clamored for the attention of those who would hunt. The Magistrate's speech had beenm good, and Nyla felt envigorated. Blade sellers were the most common merchants, tonight, as was the custom for the hunt. Nyla stopped at a stall, where an aging, Sangheili blade crafter was showing off his wares. Taking a step closer, Nyla picked up a short, eight foot spear with a beautifly crafted blade, in which the metal had a slight reddish tinge to it, and covenant glyphs spiralled up the shaft.

"How does one hunt with this?" asked Nyla. He had only brought his curve blade, and a net, so something with a bit more reach would be nice. He had intended on buying a longer spear, but he couldn't take his eyes off this one.

The Blade Vendor smiled, reaching over and grasping the short spear.

"Watch," he said, before reaching down for a long piece of wood. It was a few feet long, with a notch at one end, and a Y shaped protrusion at the other. Hooking a groove on the back of the spear onto the notch, the grizzled merchant rested the end of the spear in the Y shaped piece. Turning to where a large target had been set up, some fifty meters away, the blade crafter hurled the spear from the wooden device with a flick of his wrist. The weapon sailed through the air, thudding into the target and slamming it back onto the ground.

"How much?" asked Nyla, dreading the answer, "I would like to purchase this weapon."

"One hundred (insert covenant currency here) per spear. Fifty for the thrower"

Nyla has brought exactly 600 (insert covenant currency here), so after buying the weapon, he would be all but broke.

"Very well," he said, "I will take the thrower and five spears."

With a smile, the vendor handed over the weapon and the desired number of spears.

Nyla walked off towards the hunting grounds, happy with his purchase.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa Xirsasai walked from the amphitheater, basking in the glow of the moons. Going a distance away, he checked the straps on his traditional wood and leather armor, the sword on his thigh, the three ornate spears on his back, and the wrist blades on his forearms. Confident that everything was in order, he passed many more Sangheili on his way to the gate, and pushed through a small tussle between some jackals. Giving the Sangheili equivalent of smile, he nudged another Sangheili that was buying an atlatl and some spears and said to him, "I bet, that I can get more ba'knwa in an hour than you..."

[kartoffelfogel]

OOC: This is my one of my actual characters. The next big, official post will be by Duffle.

It was the moons, really.

Legra 'Adantee had grown up with them during his childhood, and he had marked his age by their conjunctions. By the time he had grown up enough to participate in the Sanctified Hunt, he was already being shipped off to the academy.

But now... now he could hunt in full. A true native of this land, it was doubtful that the other warriors on leave would know the abyssal chasms and soaring spires of the Obelisk Mountains as well as he.

The wind blew the bottom of his green robe around his feet. The ornate mantle and helmet he wore were made of the silvery ba'knwa scales, and gave him a rather fearsome appearance. He had inherited the ancestral hunting garb a long time ago... but despite his age, and his nativity to the world of Templar's Rest, this was his first hunt... the first time he was allowed to kill a moon beast.

He had also inherited the bone-carved javelin that had belonged to his uncle. It's tip was honed to a sliver, and it came from the bones of the same beast that now clad his head and shoulders. It was common hunter's knowledge that the best way to kill a beast was with the bones of its own...

He spotted two Sangheili, each apparently on his own, in front of old 'Hedrath's blade shop. As a child, he had often stared at the magnificent weapons that were displayed behind the glowing shield...

Hm. It would not hurt to have companions; and two young Sangheili would be a great help to him, and he to them--after all, he had played in these lands as a child, and knew them well.

He strode up to the two of them, just in time to here one of them make a bet.

"Hah! If it's a competition you'll be wanting, I offer my own talents."

"I am Legra 'Adantee."

[Dufflepud]

Nyla turned to face the other two sangheili, amused by their enthusiasm.

"A contest you say?" he asked, "Why work against each other when we can work together? Three huntsmen together will bring back ten times as many animals as three huntsmen apart."

Nyla inspected the sangheili that had just approached him. The warrior was clad in beautifuly crafted armor made of the scales of a ba'knwa.

"That is well crafted armor, Legra. How did you come to posess it?"

Nyla also posessed family hunting armor, but his was of a very different sort. It was soft and light, made from the scaly hide of one of his homeworld's many predators. Atop his head sat a long, many toothed skull. Bony ridges ran atop it's forehead, and It's two lower mandibles ran alongsaide the sangheili's four. The top jaw had been removed. In it, Nyla's footsteps were all but silent, and night or day, be blended naturaly with his surroundings.

"I would ask to buy it if it weren't so obviously of much importance to you."

[kartoffelfogel]

"Ah, my friend, nothing short of the command of the Prophets would make me part with this armor."

He silently added in his head, and maybe not even then. He then banished the heretical thought.

"It was bestowed upon me by an uncle of mine. The old warrior had risen all the way up to a zealot rank; bringing credit to my family. And for some reason, it was the will of the gods that he survive every battle he fought, only to, at the very last, die in the Sanctified Hunt."

Here, he drew himself up to his full height. He was actually a little bit below average height, but he was stockily built, and his helmet added a good couple inches.

"This Hunt means much to me; I would be honored to accompany you. But my friends, no matter what we do, it will end up as a competition; there is only ever one Great Hunter."

"However, I am old, and cannot truly aspire to that title. You are young, and may yet benefit from my knowledge of these lands. Mayhap I may help one of you win that coveted title."

"I notice, however, that you have me at a disadvantage. To whom do I have the pleasure of adressing?

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa smiled, towering over Legra. His crimson eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he rumbled in his baritone voice, "I am Sorsa Xirsasai, commander of Intervention Lance." His eyes swivled from Nya to Legra. "It will be an honor to hunt with the two of you, I am sure. Try to keep up!"

[Dufflepud]

Nyla laughed heartily, turning to face both of them at the same time.

"I am Nyla, Nyla Katolee. And be assured, I will ahve no trouble matching your pace. Now, let us discuss our hunting strategy. Us working together will surely bring the title to one of us!"

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra gave a deep, throaty laugh.

"Ah, my friends, soon we shall see who brings down the most prey--at any moment the Huntmaster will call to open the gates, and we'll see whose boasts are hot air--and whose are truth."

[laughingman]

Xiga 'Rthinee was almost there. He had been making his way around the outer edge of Ascended Obelisk, seeking some time away from crowds for self-contemplation. The seven moons hanging gently in the brilliant, starry sky made for perfect conditions to do just that.

The Major Domo made his way up to a balcony that overlooked the streets leading down the path which would take them to the hunt. It was there that Xiga 'Rthinee waited, cross-legged in meditation, for the past few hours. But that time was passed already. Now was the time to gather intelligence. Perhaps some of the other warriors knew something about the area?

Following this line of reasoning, Xiga had re-immersed himself with the crowds. The music, the cheering, the chatting and the singing. It grated at his senses, but he blocked it out, focusing on small group conversations in order to pick up any kind of strategy. He was hoping that, perhaps, he would overhear something from a veteran of the hunt.

He got lucky - a small group of Sangheili, two of which wore family armor, were making bets, and one of them said that he knew the area well. This piqued Xiga's interest. Moving closer, the Sangheili would nod his head to whichever looked over at him first and greet them,

"Good eve, brothers. I could not help but overhear your friendly competition. My blood boils with anticipation, as does yours I am sure! Perhaps you would not complain if another were to throw his blade in with the friendly game of the Hunt?"

[kartoffelfogel]

"Four?" Legra said.

"I see no reason why not..."

"Although, perhaps it would be better if we worked together as four, but hunted in pairs. We would find an easier time of moving about the forest if we are together; but a group this size would alert any ba'knwa within earshot."

Legra brought out a cloth. It was a map, with the features sewn in with thick embroidery. Spidery glyphs were made out of a familiar shining bone, and were sewn into the cloth near a few key locations.

The old warrior's hand pointed at a dual glyph, marking its location as the Earthbridge.

"The Earthbridge makes for good hunting, provided we are stealthy. We could go there, split up into pairs, and comb the whole bridge for moon beasts."

"Most people assume the bridge is only useful for travel--but the ba'knwa are clever--they hide where no hunters would seek them."

"No hunters except for us, of course."

[kartoffelfogel]

OOC: I know that I'm not supposed to double post, but I didn't actually write this one. Duffle did, but he's temporarily gone, so I'm posting it for him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
K’tas Adantai had gratefully accepted the position of Huntmaster. He had once been a Kaidon, but that title had long since passed to his son and heir. As a native of Templar’s Rest, the grizzled old sangheili had participated in the event every year, bringing home a new ornamental armor or weapon more than once. Tonight, however, it was the younger Sangheilis’ turn to find glory and honor in the hunt of the ba’knwa. Kt’as stepped out onto a small rise above the gathered crowd below him. Originally, the hunt had been only for the sangheili, but now, all races were permitted to join.

K’tas smiled down at the gathering of hunters. Although the animosity between the Sangheili and the Jiralhanae was as strong as ever, in general race did not matter. Unggoy, Sangheili and Kig-Yar stood side-by-side, all eager to begin the hunt and so begin the contest. K’tas placed one hand atop the beautifully carved moon gate, wrought of silvery metals and carved in the likeness of a great hunt.

“Fellow covenant!” he bellowed out into the night, “It was not long ago that only Sangheili were permitted to hunt in this holy place!” at that, the Sangheili gathered below roared, while the Jiralhanae growled angrily, and the other races looked on meekly.

“But now, by the grace of the prophets, there are hunters representing almost every race in our holy covenant!”

Now, every participant below was cheering, or roaring in some cases. Kt’as paused for effect, before continuing.

“I will not bore you with more talk. You all know why we are here. We are here for honor! We are here for glory! Let the great hunt… Begin!”

With that, the great gate opened, and the crowd began a chorus of, “Tooth and talon! Tooth and talon!” before filing through the moon gate, and off into the sanctified hunting grounds.”

With a sigh, K’tas headed back down the rise. He had felt so youthful! So full of strength! No matter. It was their time now, not his.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa roared in pleasure, thrilled that the Hunt had begun. Racing through the gate and into the grounds, he would set quite a pace for the others to keep up.

"For honor! And the most kills of all!"

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra grunted with approval. He gave a throaty roar of "tooth and talon" as tradition demanded.

He turned to his companions.

"Come, my friends! Let us run with speed to the hunting grounds. The moon beasts await us at the Earthbridge!"

[laughingman]

Xiga 'Rthinee shifted, listening to the speech given by the Huntmaster. What an honor it was to be here. The young Sangheili was enthralled, rallied by the zealous cheers of his compatriots, and comrades. The Major Domo thrust his fist in the sky, shouting along with the cheers of his fellow hunters and for a moment, even his hatred of the Jiralhanae was simply ignored in lieu of the exaltation given to the Hunt's arrival. Though he still managed to ignore the 'teeh and talon' part of the cheer. Which was a sobering thought.

Xiga 'Rthinee turned to the gathered and nodded as Legra spoke,

"Indeed, brothers! We have much glory to behold! Much blood to spill! May your foes be worthy, and your blades sharp!" He responded zealously, practically twitching with anticipation.

[Dufflepud]

"Tooth and talon!" roared Nyla as he rushed off through the moon gate with his companions. The speach had been envigorating, short and to the point! (If I do say so myself )

"Come, my friends! Let us run with speed to the hunting grounds. The moon beasts await us at the Earthbridge!"

he heard Legra say. Following his new, scale - clad friend, Nyla unstrapped his new Atlatl, eager to begin.

[kartoffelfogel]

THE FOREST

Legra led the small party of Sangheili out of the city, along the path that lead to the hunting grounds. The Earthbridge was the most beautiful section of the path, and one of the busiest, as it had to be crossed to get to the North and South Abysses and the Ascended Forest.

No-one sought to hunt there, and many ba'knwa, in all their cleverness, chose to hide there.

The path was straightforward to the Earthbridge; but it was busy, and noisy. Instead Legra took them along another side path that ran parallel to it; that path had been used by curious children and individuals with furtive needs.

But it was just as good a path to take; even better, for the moonbeasts would frequent the road less traveled.

"Aih, my friends, we can make our way to the Earthbridge from here, but hunting is possible from this point one. We shall continue; but if any spot a ba'knwa we may tarry awhile."

"Remember!" He said, giving the group a glare. "Do not attempt to attack a moonbeast on your own! They are fast, and may escape, and if they do, they will warn their brethren! Signal to one of us for assistance. Do not let the lure of the title of Great Hunter cloud your judgment."

[laughingman]

The scent of the forest eased its way into Xiga's nostrils like a summer breeze. Settling into the atmosphere of the forest, Xiga loped along with the other Sangheili, all of them trailing the Elder. For now, Xiga left his sword sheathed - to draw meant to kill, and only his brothers were around him at the moment, so it would be inappropiate to wield such death.

The soft earth beneath his feet, the whispering trees and gossipping forest animals all flew by in a blur as the warriors made their way to the Earthbridge, as Legra called it. They each trusted in the Elder Sangheili's familiarity of the area. Sure fate smiled on Xiga for making the right choice to seek such a man? Only time will tell. But as it looked now, fate was smiling down on him along with the seven moons.

The Major Domo heeded the elder's words, but a thought bit at the back of his mind. He wished to claim at least one kill by himself. To prove he could take on the challenges of being alone. But would that make him any more a viable candidate for the Special Operations? He wouldn't know, but it would prove something to himself. Though, perhaps part of Special Operations is working in a small, cohesive team to make the biggest impact - Yes.. That was it. Teamwork was key, glory was shared for all. Then a thought hit him,

"So then we must double the beasts to equalize the glory for us all! That we may each share the honor and victory equally!" he called out, but raised his voice only enough for the others. For he feared alerting any possible prey.

[Spartan 999]

"Agreed." Sorsa whispered, keeping a watchful eye out. He spied a suitable tree, and quickly scaled it. The forest had turned dense enough the he could go from tree to tree without much difficulty. He drew a spear and extended it, ready for a target to present itself.

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra made a sweeping gesture with his cloak, indicating a series of slight brush marks in the sand.


He silently gestured at Sorsa, and motioned to Xiga. Pointing at the two of them with his left hand's both thumbs, he stretched his two middle fingers toward the tracks.

Moonbeast, it meant. Sorsa, Xiga, hunt swiftly and silently.

He twisted his hand in a mimicry of a blade-stab.

Good hunting.

[Huka]

Til 'Muramee watched his fellows leave the city and through the road to the Earthbridge in the local forest. Clicking his tusked mandibles in simple thought, he stayed perched on a tall tree that oversaw much of the forest, looking about like a helios skrill. The wind blowing at his desert cloak, the one thing that kept him warm from the planet's humid air unlike the stale air of his homeland's desert.

Underneath his cloak, he-like most hunters here-wore his own set of armour opposed to the standard Covenant armor, which in his case was his remade gladiatorial armor during his time as a novice of Shaleel.

The armor was consisted of a sleek cuirass, bracers and vambraces ending with talon-ended gauntlets and boots, and a helmet possessing a beak-like front and a colorful plume on the other end, resembling a Helios Skrill-avian beasts native to Sanghelios and respected predators.

To further his fierce appearance, he kept a arsenal of bladed weaponry on his person; a hunting blade resting in its scabbard on his lower back in a horizontal position just above his waist, four steel-tipped spears in a bundle on his back, and a bandolier of throwing knives across his chest. Only his spears were visible and the rest hidden under his cloak. Nothing much for a Muram hunter.

Looking to the seven bright moons, he closed his eyes, and went into a meditative state as he collected himself for the Hunt. He had no worries of losing prey, the Hunter also have Prey to find.

Inhaling deeply, he mentally recited a old war poem written by his grand-uncle long ago, and exhaled before opening his eyes again.

Fang and claw, what a chant, he thought before looking down and seeing movement in the forest. On another road different from the one the mass is taking.

Interesting.

Jumping from his perch, Til landed on a branch, and moved on different trees, before touching the ground, feeling sand move underneath his weight.

Pulling out a spear, he slid its metal tip on the ground, and drew close to the road in a low stance, seeing three other Sangheili in their own hunting garb.

The sudden thirst for blood gone for now, he was about to rise to greet them when he noticed one of them gesture a very clear sign. A Moonbeast is near.

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra halted.

A sound of metal on sand.

Another hunter. Following them!

He caught sight of him, and flashed him a quick mandible-flick.

Hold.

A wrong movement, or a careless one, would alert the ba'knwa in the area. He would not have his Hunt ruined by recklessness.

The newcomer was dressed in rather old armor, with the characteristic bulges in his cloak that were the hallmark of inexperienced Sangheili who brought huge amounts of clanky weaponry. Overburdened and careless with their many weapons, they rarely caught much.

He flared his upper mandibles.

Hold. Wait.

[Huka]

Til flicked his mandibles at the glaring eyes of the senior hunter, already annoyance in his eyes. Good, he heard and saw him. Better to know they were aware of his presence before a fool had his guts on their spear thinking he was a ba'knwa .

With very clear hand signals to the hunter, he signaled, 'Friend. You are sword, I follow.'

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa had just managed to sneak up right over the newcomer's head, but sheathed his spear as it was made clear that he was non-hostile. Sorsa crept back along the branches, eyes flicking back and forth. There...a moonbeast perched on a tree, near perfectly camouflaged, some twenty meters above his party.

Sorsa mimicked a bird song, gesturing at the gnarled tree when he got Legra's attention. He drew a spear, and extended it with a small shwing sound. A slight hiss, and Sorsa froze. There was a moonbeast directly behind him, tail with a sharp spike tipping it waving menacingly. Sorsa whistled three times in rapid succession, alerting the others to his predicament.

[Huka]

Hearing the sharp rapid bird noises, Til angled his head till his eye caught the sight of a large Sangheili hunter, appearing as large and muscular as a Jiralhanae. He was amused by his own joke, well I've found my gutting fool, but his eye sharpened at the sight of a hissing ba'knwa. Its head near the hunter's head and its barbed tail whipping near Til's head.

Clicking his tusks as uninterested, Til moved his arm like a cracked whip, grabbing the ba'knwa's tail, and pulled it hard, forcing the beast to focus more on trying to stay latched onto the tree than kill its surprised predator.

The creature, despite its frail appearance, was almost strong as a wild sand prowler, frailing its talons in hope to stay gripped to its perch and repeal its attacker.

Til, despite his obvious chance of first blood,allows his stalker to share in the opportunity as he held his sand-tipped spear in ready of the hunter's decision.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa whirled, spear in hand, to see the newcomer grappling with the moonbeast. He impaled it in the midsection, but it still struggled and clawed, happeining to hit Sorsa with a rogue leg. Sorsa seemed to fly for a second, before thudding to the ground. Struggling to his feet dazidly, he muttered loud enough for the others to hear. "I can see why they are highly sought after. And considered excellent prey."

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra stalked over to the moonbeast.

"It was a young one. An excellent catch, Sorsa. However, newcomer--"

Here he paused and turned to the new Sangheili.

"It was rash to grab a moonbeast. I am amazed that you could hold on to it. That is a testament to your strength. Many hunters have fallen in an attempt to tackle a fully-grown moonbeast. You have gone unscathed this time, but be warned: they are fast as scorpions and fierce as rock prowlers."

He examined Sorsa. "That is fine armor you wear. The ba'knwa claws have not pierced it."

"Well." He said to his hunting party. "That is one kill for Sorsa, and a half for the stranger. It is unlikely that there will be any more moonbeasts in this area. Sorsa, if you can, carry the moonbeast. We shall scale and cook it once we reach the Earthbridge."

He walked over to the newcomer. "Friend, you have a warrior's spirit, if not his experience. What are you named?"

[Huka]

Til chuckled dryly after pulling his own spear from the Moonbeast's neck and gave a respectful bow with a clawed hand on his chest, "I am Til 'Muramee, noble hunter. A mere Minor Domo to your prowess, and I thank you for the small praise, but I still strive to hone my body and spirit, so I too may become a warrior worthy of war poems."

After his little speech, he looked to the one called Sorsa. He is impressed by his incredible stealth despite his size and respected his skill, mentally reminding himself to watch his back. "Are you alright my friend? You took quite a hit."

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa shrugged, mandibles clicking. "I've taken worse." He then glanced at Legra. "Yes, this is my traditional armor of hunting moonbeasts, the famed - at least in our family - armor of Xirsas. It can withstand a lot more damage than just a claw."