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Anger...hate...Suffering

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Boris
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Anger...hate...Suffering

Postby Boris » Tue Nov 24, 2009 11:50 am

Anger....is like a fine wine. The better the foundation and the longer it ages, the more flavor, depth and body it has. Pain leads to rage, Rage leads to Hate and Hate leads to Power. Or something like that.

Tallus Fel helped his anger age. He'd been betrayed and nearly enslaved. Both things he tried to avoid. His cover had been blown. He was drow no more. The dragon's knew who he worked for, and they had a bounty out for him.

The dark liquid in the cup before him reflected his Zabrak eyes up at the man who was suddenly across from him. The black armor with red sigils didn't reflect any light. The lightsaber hung on one side, and a blackened blade was on his back. Fel's eyes rose from his drink. His hands falling lightly to the hilts of his swords.

"Are you here to kill me?" He asked, letting the rage fill his mind, sharpening his sense.

The voice that answered was raspy and hallow, seemed to come from far away. "No fool, if I was here to kill you, your head would be on the ground."

"Well I'm tired of being tested, walk away, draw steel or I will" The telltale sound of steel on steel sounded as his vibroblade cleared the sheath. The bar instantly went deadly silent. All eyes locked on the Zabrak.

The armored man just smiled at him, a cold ruthless smile. One that was slowly reflected across Tallus' face. Fel starred him in the eyes. Wtih a blur that can only be attributed to the force the men lunged at eachother. The fight was fast and furious. Both men fighting with a rage to kill. The hatred rolled of Fel making all those watching wince in pain and fear.

In another instant the fight was at at stand still. Fel and the Warrior were locked with blades crossed each putting all of his strength into the strike. The silence spread out, to be interrupted by footfalls funing towards the entrace of the bar. Eight Armed men burst in, rifles in hand. Thugs and mercenaries the whole lot.

Neither Fel nor the warrior gave them a second look, so locked into the fight they were. "By order of Rishka the Hutt, owner of his bar leave now. Only warning. " The blaster rifles were leveled at his head. Fel's eye flicked to the mercenaries and away from the warrior.

When Fel's eyes came back to his adversary no one with there. His Vibroblade hung in mid air pushing against nothing. All he could hear was a faint laughter.

"Sir, you've had too much to drink. Time to put down the blade, and leave. We dont want to to ahve to kill you."

Tallus sneered at the men and with a flick of his hand pushed four of them out the door knocking down two of others. He jumped over them and quickly dissapered into the crowd. That Zabrak's face would never been seen again.

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Snake
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Re: Anger...hate...Suffering

Postby Snake » Tue Nov 24, 2009 4:42 pm

Nice...


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