Krintak the Hunter

[chowda]

Quietly we wait here in the darkness. Out of sight. Out of mind. Shoulder to shoulder. Arm in arm. The only sound is that of calm breathing and steady heart beats. Here we think. Here we plot. Here we plan. Here we wait.

We are friends and brothers. Each willing to give his life for each other. Each willing to take the life of the enemy on our brothers behalf. We long to call out to the enemy. We want to face this new threat. We desire nothing more then crush them under our muddy boots.

Still we wait in the darkness. Anxious. Excited. Building the level of our aggression. Violence becoming obsession. Seething in anger. Sneering at the very thought of death with a most murderous rage in our eyes.

Still we wait in the darkness and the thought of losing raises not more than a snicker. We smile through clenched teeth as the humorous thought passes. We stand there shoulder to shoulder and arm in arm. We can't lose. We won't lose. Let them come for us. Let them try.

.....and still we wait here in the darkness. It's our house. Our home. Come get it....

[Eldon]

For those who haven't picked up on it yet, this role-playing storyline is for everyone. I run something similar for ION every year on PB Nation.

I thought old Krintak would be a nice change of pace.

Everyone is welcome to post and you can start your own stories that have nothing to do with Krintak.

Creativity is encouraged. Please keep all insults and smak in character. See Coyote's post for an example.

The second installment of Krintak will be posted this weekend.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need go tune the flux capacitor.

[Coyote]

Wally you broke character....COME ON!!!

i feel cheated

[nyxx]

ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!

[chowda]

.....Yeah that was pretty funny Coyote

[Eldon]

Sept 25, 2009 9:01:19 GMT -5 Coyote said:

Wally you broke character....COME ON!!!

i feel cheated

My most profound apologies, Honored Prey. You are correct. I will strive to be more worthy of your death.

I must now seek the "Elixir of Inspiration" from the intoxicants cabinet. Surely the Gods will bless me with a vision of your demise...or unconsciousness.

[Eldon]

Planet XY569023. Valley of the Prey

Someone had shoved his face into the stinking body cavity of a two-week-dead zole. The foul taste of its flesh was driving up his nostrils and choking him in stench. Desperately he rolled away from the carcass. Blinding pain made him forget all about stink as his entire body spasmed in agony. He lay unmoving on his back in the darkness and concentrated on carefully filling his lungs with air will causing as little ache as possible. "Briznit-forsaken, mother-of-a-low Storknar!!" he cursed as he spat a chunk of brownish debris from his mouth. "I would have to land in the largest pile of excrement on this planet." As bad as the grass stunk when crushed, it became infinitely more fragrant once it had passed through the digestive systems of the large herbivores he had been shadowing. "On the other hand, it probably saved my life…ish," he thought with irony. The semi-solid pile that came up to his waist had absorbed most of his kinetic energy. An impact that should have turned him into a bag of ruptured tissue and crushed bone merely mad him FEEL like squashed goo.

While his body slowly decided if it still wanted to be part of the living world, his higher brain functions came back on line. "Oh, that hurt!" he thought. Then, "I'm alive! Hah! Again, Krintak triumphs!" He shouted his defiance to the sky. Then sat up abruptly despite the torture of movement to throw up everything left in his two stomachs. "Concussion," he thought muzzily, "and some internal damage." He spat pinkish blood this time. "Maybe a lung or two punctured. Need to get back to the ship."

With infinite care, he moved to a kneeling position away from the stinking puddle he had left. Then he placed one foot flat on the ground and pushed off his knee to his feet. The planet swung in a complete loop while he hung on for dear life, but it finally settled down to a vague wobble. Krintak made his unsteady way back to the body of the giant carnivore he had killed. He stood before the Prey as the alien dawn broke. Bathed in the early light, the beast was magnificent even in death. It was as long as his drop-shuttle and probably weighed more. Mottled the colors of the grassland, the pebbly hide was also covered in patches of fur along the spine and the upper limbs. The jaws stretched three quarters of the way back along its skull and could unhinge to swallow massive-sized gobbets. The rendering teeth along the outer jaw would sheer huge chunks from its prey after the massive canines has struck home. Even with its size, the creature had moved silently upon the herbivore herd and closed with incredible swiftness.

Krintak's plan had been to stay just close enough to the herd to mimic a young animal that had wandered away from its protection. His scent altered to that of the herd, Krintak counted on the Prey being sucked in by the promise of an easy meal. His plan to use himself as bait almost worked too well. He hadn’t counted on the Prey’s speed or its incredible vitality even after a pair of killing wounds. Krintak could just see the wound over the creature's heart his arrow produced. With the sun climbing higher, the exit wound was clearly visible near the spine. The arrow had weakened the creature enough to keep its struggles brief. A few more hops and twists and he would have lost his handhold. Then he would have been "Krintak the Greasy Spot on the Prairie."

He couldn't reach his knife without climbing back on the Prey and he was in no condition for that. Instead, he traced a canine as long as his forearm with his finger and shuddered with delight. “Here,” he thought, “is a worthy Prey. A tale for the Tellers on High Holidays.” Gently, he rested his hand on the Prey’s forehead and said the Prayer of Thanks. Then he threw his head back and screamed for the Gods to witness his triumph. It hurt. The Gods knew it hurt, but that made the Moment all the sweeter. Easy victories were for cowards. He was Kritak. The Hunter.

The Moment passed and triumph was replaced by weariness. “Time to wrap this up,” he thought. Krintak activated the communications device embedded behind his right ear. “Ship,” he said aloud, “Recovery Plan Alpha 4. Execute.” Minutes later, he was aboard his drop shuttle and heading for the mother ship. His servants would harvest the trophy and process it for display. While Krintak might admire now and again until the ship returned home, he was already beginning to think about his next expedition. “To go home or go on?” he asked himself. “I have enough trophies and holos for this trip, but I’d like something spectacular to top it all off with.” A coughing fit interrupted his train of thought and he spat more blood. “Yes, regen tube first, followed by a hot soak,” he thought. “Plenty of time to decide while the trophy is being prepared.”

[Eldon]

Planet XY569023, People's Starship PSS Blood Trailer

Krintak emerged from the Regeneration Tube feeling and looking like himself once more. For perhaps the millionth time, he blessed the inventor of regen technology and resolved to place an Offering before his statue in the Great Hall. According to the readings, he had come a bit closer to becoming Prey himself than he first thought. Only the fact that his Hunting Form carried a spare heart and redundant lung capacity had kept him alive long enough to reach the Tube. In his own form, he would never have survived such damage. "Of course," he thought, "I could never have gotten close enough for it to matter." Krintak suspected that the Prey would have run away bellowing in fear if it faced the "real" him. He looked into the holo-mirror beside the tube and watched his imaged rotate 360 degrees. Krintak stood almost four meters tall and nearly two meters wide. His natural squatting stance caused his clawed feet to splay out slightly. Retractable claws slid in and out as he flexed Working hands at the end of his muscular Power arms. His Detail hands, mounted in the center of his chest, delicately waved in the air at the end of multi-jointed, Flex arms. Krintak thought of his Mate and growled a challenge to an imagined opponent. He bared his fangs and roared trying for maximum intimidation. "Yep," he thought with smug satisfaction, "No way the Prey would have stayed still long enough for a shot. Not with such a fierce Hunter stomping across the plains." He laughed as he imagined the herd and the Prey running for the far horizon and him panting along in their wake. "Ah, the People are fierce in a fight," he thought, "But the Gods did not make us sprinters." He chuckled again and made his way to the Bathing Room.

The scented pool was heated to within a degree of boiling. He hissed in mingled ecstasy and pain as he slid his bulk into the water. Leaving just his eyes above the water level, he let the glorious sensation pour through his weary bones. "The Tube is a wonder," he thought, "But nothing compares to a hot soak." He purred in contentment and a string of bubbles marked his pleasure. After a few minutes, he moved to the seating area around the pool's circumference, leaned his head back against a rest and closed his eyes.

Flashes of the last hunt strobed behind his lids as he relived the stalk. The smell of the grass was back. The feel of it. The sudden rise up. The Prey filling his whole horizon as he concentrated on a tiny point of aim. The surprise of the release. The need to be up! Fast! Fast! The slow motion arc over the beast and the jarring impact of landing. The feel as his blade parting flesh in the creature's arm. The feel of the Moment as he drove his blade…A chime announced one of his servants entering the Bathing Room. The snarl that started inside Krintak at having his revelry interrupted was consumed by the smell of food.

The servant placed a gigantic tray next to Krintak with a bow and padded out on soundless feet. Natives of a planet long ago conquered by Krintak's people, the Flur had formed an almost symbiotic relationship with the massive People. Barely a meter and half in height and slim besides, the Flur were nonetheless surprisingly strong. Their bone density was higher than the People's and they could run all day and night without stopping. More importantly, they were extremely intelligent and gifted with the most patient of natures. Within decades of the Flur Invasion, the People had come to rely on the Flur more as partners than subjects. They worked for and beside the People at all levels of society and even had representatives within the People's Legislature. Sometimes, Krintak wondered if the Flur let themselves be "conquered" so they could take over the People. "The Gods know we need someone to keep us organized," he thought, "Put twelve of the People together in a room to discuss anything and you'll have to hose blood off the ceiling." He thought about that for a moment more, "But if you put a Flur in the room first, they come to consensus within an hour. Lots of shouting and threats, but then everybody decides and goes home. Odd how I never thought of that before." Krintak shrugged and decided deep philosophical questions could wait until after dinner.

[Eldon]

Recreation Lounge, PSS Blood Trailer

Patting a belly full of steaks from his most recent Prey, Krintak sprawled upon one of the couches in the ship's lounge. Raw footage of his stalk and kill was playing on the main holotank in an endless loop. The fully edited version from multiple camera angles showing him at his best would be several weeks away. For now, Krintak simply watched and marveled that he had survived. Life was good and he was still the Best. Aaahhhh.

"Excellent kill!" said the Person who came to stand beside him, "You always make it look so easy. I hardly have to enhance anything on this one for a long run at the Temple." His Director was always praising his hunts. Even the ones that went badly. Krintak supposed it went with the job. He certainly had no talent for putting together the various holos that were shown on entertainment networks so he shouldn't be critical. He simply Hunted. That was his duty and pleasure. Let others tend to their own concerns. He knew his place in the universe. "Yes, sir!" the Director continued when Krintak stayed silent. "This will be your best one yet!"

Krintak looked up and said, "Is there something else?"

The Director looked uncertain for a moment and then said, "It's about your next Hunt."

"Yes?"

"Well, it seems that the Snoodle-backed Finbuster has just been placed on the Galactic Endangered Species List." The Director visibly cringed.

"WHAT!" Krintak thundered leaping to his feet. "HOW DARE THEY?! Those sniveling little bureaucrats from the Federation! I'll nail their reproductive organs above my mantle! That’s assuming the spineless things have any such that are visible to the naked eye!" He fumed and ranted a bit more, but it would ultimately be useless. He knew that even the People had to bow before the collective will of the Federation to which they belonged. Theirs was a civilized society after all, subject to the rule of law. That didn't mean Krintak had to like it.

"Well," said the Director quickly when Krintak paused for breath, "We just need to find another suitable Prey."

Krintak snorted, "We'll have to go to the back of beyond! The Federation is getting more and more picky about which creatures are allowable Prey."

"I've heard of a world beyond the Federation's jurisdiction that might be suitable," mused the Director. "Some place called 'Dirt', I think."

Krintak moved to the holotank and asked, "Coordinates?" The Director raddled off a string of numbers. "Hmmm. Yes, here it is. 'Terra' which translates as...EARTH!"

"Earth?"

"Yes! That disgusting little backwater that almost killed me years ago. There's a reason it's not in the Federation: Allaris and I barely escaped with our lives and a fragment of our forces."

"That Earth!" cried the Director in sudden recognition. "The Battle for Dirt," as it was contemptuously called by those who had survived it, had been a minor skirmish on the fringes of known space, but it had ended Kritak's military ambitions. By the time he recovered from his wounds, he was no longer interested in conquest through others. He turned from the Path of Fury to the Path of the Hunter; choosing a way of individual glory.

"Never mind!" said the Director quickly, "I'll find some where safer." The moment the words were in the air, he knew he had made a grave mistake.

"Safer?" asked Krintak softly, as softly as the whisper of a fine blade parting the air. "You think I need a 'safer' Hunt?" The Director looked into Krintak's eyes and for the first time in the decades they'd know each other was afraid. He suddenly knew what the Prey saw in the last instant before their death.

The Director dropped to his knees and prostrated himself, "Forgive me, Lord! I meant no insult! I was only thinking of your glory."

Krintak turned away and triggered a mental discipline learned before he threw his first spear. When the red rage faded he turned back and said, "Get up, Old Friend. My apologies." The Director almost fainted with relief and astonishment. Krintak seldom apologized. He was First Hunter. "Maybe it is time to return to 'Dirt'."

He walked over to a small trophy case in the lounge with an odd assortment of items collected here and there. Krintak opened the case and pulled a slim volume from its resting place. He tossed it to the Director and said, "One of my friends gave me that at Festival. He picked it up in a novelty shop during the war. Why I kept it after a chuckle or two, I'll never know. Perhaps it was...Prophecy?" Krintak walked back to the holotank and began searching the database for information about Earth/Terra/Dirt. He looked up at the Director and said, "Make sure to get some copies made of that book." He paused for a moment and then he smiled with his teeth, "Especially for the cook section." He laughed a hearty belly laugh and turned back to his research with a will.

The Director hurried out to do his master's bidding. Idly, he looked at the book's title and stopped in puzzlement: To Serve Man.

To be continued in CHAPTER 3: "COYOTE"