Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: hhhmmm....where do I live?...I cant remember!
Perdy? Such a short meaningless title. It carried neither the flowery length and perversity of her race, or the others, and was something that held no meaning with in which it was earned, if at all it was. "The Frail" was, "The Frail"! No one could mistake it for what it was, or what it meant. He grunted, "The Frail" lacked enough understanding of the other races and for what reasons they gave such complex, yet pointless titles.
With effort the woman sat up, her face shining in the silver light of the rising half-moon. "I'm a warrior. I was sent by the King of this land to slay any darkspawn that I met, and that means you. As you can see, however, I am in no position to kill you, and so I won't."
"The Frail" grunted a quiet grunt, if the woman had wanted him dead so badly she would have tried regardless of her position, he wasn't stupid, whether he was a Darkspawn or not. Whatever the reason, she just didn't want to kill him, and he knew it. Another grunt.
Then she grunted, but only in pain: he fidgeted, then stared. He let her talk, looking on with half-lidded eyes.
"May the Maker condemn what the King says, or wants me to do. In my own eyes, you've earned the right to live by your sheer fierceness alone!" The way she spoke it almost seemed that she had some strange admiration for him. He didn't know, he couldn't guess, the other races were queer to him, but if she did in some way, then he pitied her...Or was it himself?
Once she'd finished her talking he moved closer, speaking ponderously before reaching out to touch her back and sides, "Ggrrrmmrr-ibs, cracked, need setting. Wrapping."
He removed his hands and held them before her face, making peeling motions and indicating her armor, he commanded in one simple word, "Off."
As he waited, he pondered her last comment, replying in time, "Mmmm, not fierce. Calm, fight, restraint. Not fierce. Simply using my thoughts. Fierce fight, kill...slaughter, brethren are always fierce, bestial."
"Mmmrarrrr-I earned my life by wits. I beat you with natural strength-rrrr. Mistaken it with ferocity," he explained, his wording was chopped, and slow, but the complexity he could put behind his speech was evident. His only problems were with the grunts and growls that came from him so involuntarily, and thus it gave him a primitive sense, and feel; something that could be misleading to most, if their prejudice didn't let them look past it.
"But in you...I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will..."
"You are beautiful to me, exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."
"But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force..."
"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you...You are more precious than you know..."-now...it's verbatim!-A quote from Darth Traya (Kreia)