Behemoth
05-02-08, 01:01 PM
Solo; PM me if you think you want in
Judges: This is a history thread, Bhakti'mat's personality and appearance might not be exactly as I described them.
The mid-morning sun beat down upon the windswept sands of southeastern Fallien. Few souls ventured this far into the desert; those that did were likely either determinedly insane or insanely determined. Many were both. The sands practically boiled with heat, mirages were not uncommon in this area of the country. Lagai jumped out of the sands and then plunged back in to stalk any prey they had seen. The drake-like beings attacked anyone not taken by the sun; it was a fierce contest between the two.
Regardless of the dangers, one man stood beneath the blazing sun and barely flinched when the tormenting winds blasted him with sand. It was his job to protect his homeland and he would do it without question. His name was Bhakti’mat Zu’ura.
Bhakti’mat was one of seven Zalkheins set to guard the border between Fallien and Dosidica, the home of the gigases. Each guard was responsible for ensuring that no humans, elves, dwarves, harpies, nor any other manner of creature entered the sacred lands. Mother Aditipazu, the leader of the gigases, had given each an amulet bearing both her crest and the mark of their station. A Zalkhein was little more than an exile that the gigases wanted to keep close.
In Bhakti’mat’s case, he was the bastard son of Mother Aditipazu and one of her human lovers. He was a half-breed, an outcast in both societies. However, the simple man rarely minded; he enjoyed the lifestyle that being a Zalkhein afforded him. The desert wilderness allowed him incalculable opportunities to test himself. Whether he was hunting for food, guarding Dosidica, or fighting the occasional adventurer, Bhakti’mat kept himself in top physical condition. He had often compared himself to the occasional traveler that had stumbled upon his station; seeing their weakened conditions made him feel that much better about himself.
The dark-skinned half-gigas was easily two feet taller than any of the humans had been and his musculature had inspired them with fear. His skin acted as his armor, protecting him from the sun and the sands. Still, he wore a plain vest made from hide to keep his personal effects on his person at all times, loose leather pants for protection from the elements, and heavy boots that he used both in exploration and combat. His life was free from the complexities that humans often had as well as the constant hostility that consumed the gigas clans. Bhakti’mat, the exile, had more freedom to do as he pleased than anyone else on the island.
On this particular morning, Bhakti’mat spotted two dark stains moving toward his position across the white sand. His piercing blue eyes focused intently on making out their forms, but they were still too far away to make out. Moving away from the entrance to the underground guard station, the Zalkhein stalked across the dunes to his right. His battle sense kicked in, making him intensely aware of everything going on around him while focusing him at the same time. His breathing came slower and deeper with each breath as he sank into the role of hunter. And these were his prey.
Sand churned beneath his dark leather boots as he sprinted across the dune, keeping his body low as he circled around the side. He spotted a rock jutting from the ground not too far away and adjusted his course to duck down behind it. The sand was cooler here and Bhakti’mat enjoyed the refreshing break from the seemingly inescapable heat as he surveyed the sands once again.
There they were, the black stains moving ever closer to Dosidica. He didn’t wonder why they were there, he only concerned himself with the fact that they were not allowed to be. To be a Zalkhein was to obey, to be single-minded in purpose, and to never question. These were values instilled in Bhakti’mat since he was young; values that he would not soon forget.
As the stains came closer, the dark-skinned guard was finally able to discern what they actually were. A human male and a human female dressed in sheer silk robes struggled through the sand. Bhakti’mat pushed off the rock he had been hiding behind and launched himself across the open sand between them. So focused were the two travelers on just continuing forward that they never saw the behemoth closing in. By the time the woman looked, it was too late.
The Zalkhein leapt from the top of the nearest dune, one leg stretched out before him and the other tucked back behind him. A massive fist cocked at the ready, he veritably flew through the air toward his targets. The fist hit her in the right temple, plowing into the thin flesh like a thrown rock. She instantly dropped to the sand and her male companion turned to see what had happened. Bhakti’mat landed almost silently, using his momentum to send his body in a tight pivot as he crouched low.
The man’s eyes were wide in terror as the hulking man before him exploded from his low position. The half-gigas’s fist connected in a vicious uppercut to the man’s jaw, sending him flying backward into the dunes. A scream escaped the traveler’s lips, for he knew he was doomed. The dark-skinned hunter closed in quickly, his longer legs closing the distance easily before the man could rise. A meaty fist grasped the man’s shirt, pulling him straight up in the air so that he looked straight into the piercing blue eyes of the Zalkhein.
“I am - ” the man never finished his sentence for Bhakti’mat’s other fist mashed his nose into his face, ending his life in an instant. The guard tossed the man over his shoulder and walked slowly back to where the woman lay. She was merely unconscious, her dark hair splayed across the ground like a fan and her chest rising and falling with every labored breath she drew. The guard gazed on her features before bending down and scoping her up in his arms. His work was done; time to return to his station.
Judges: This is a history thread, Bhakti'mat's personality and appearance might not be exactly as I described them.
The mid-morning sun beat down upon the windswept sands of southeastern Fallien. Few souls ventured this far into the desert; those that did were likely either determinedly insane or insanely determined. Many were both. The sands practically boiled with heat, mirages were not uncommon in this area of the country. Lagai jumped out of the sands and then plunged back in to stalk any prey they had seen. The drake-like beings attacked anyone not taken by the sun; it was a fierce contest between the two.
Regardless of the dangers, one man stood beneath the blazing sun and barely flinched when the tormenting winds blasted him with sand. It was his job to protect his homeland and he would do it without question. His name was Bhakti’mat Zu’ura.
Bhakti’mat was one of seven Zalkheins set to guard the border between Fallien and Dosidica, the home of the gigases. Each guard was responsible for ensuring that no humans, elves, dwarves, harpies, nor any other manner of creature entered the sacred lands. Mother Aditipazu, the leader of the gigases, had given each an amulet bearing both her crest and the mark of their station. A Zalkhein was little more than an exile that the gigases wanted to keep close.
In Bhakti’mat’s case, he was the bastard son of Mother Aditipazu and one of her human lovers. He was a half-breed, an outcast in both societies. However, the simple man rarely minded; he enjoyed the lifestyle that being a Zalkhein afforded him. The desert wilderness allowed him incalculable opportunities to test himself. Whether he was hunting for food, guarding Dosidica, or fighting the occasional adventurer, Bhakti’mat kept himself in top physical condition. He had often compared himself to the occasional traveler that had stumbled upon his station; seeing their weakened conditions made him feel that much better about himself.
The dark-skinned half-gigas was easily two feet taller than any of the humans had been and his musculature had inspired them with fear. His skin acted as his armor, protecting him from the sun and the sands. Still, he wore a plain vest made from hide to keep his personal effects on his person at all times, loose leather pants for protection from the elements, and heavy boots that he used both in exploration and combat. His life was free from the complexities that humans often had as well as the constant hostility that consumed the gigas clans. Bhakti’mat, the exile, had more freedom to do as he pleased than anyone else on the island.
On this particular morning, Bhakti’mat spotted two dark stains moving toward his position across the white sand. His piercing blue eyes focused intently on making out their forms, but they were still too far away to make out. Moving away from the entrance to the underground guard station, the Zalkhein stalked across the dunes to his right. His battle sense kicked in, making him intensely aware of everything going on around him while focusing him at the same time. His breathing came slower and deeper with each breath as he sank into the role of hunter. And these were his prey.
Sand churned beneath his dark leather boots as he sprinted across the dune, keeping his body low as he circled around the side. He spotted a rock jutting from the ground not too far away and adjusted his course to duck down behind it. The sand was cooler here and Bhakti’mat enjoyed the refreshing break from the seemingly inescapable heat as he surveyed the sands once again.
There they were, the black stains moving ever closer to Dosidica. He didn’t wonder why they were there, he only concerned himself with the fact that they were not allowed to be. To be a Zalkhein was to obey, to be single-minded in purpose, and to never question. These were values instilled in Bhakti’mat since he was young; values that he would not soon forget.
As the stains came closer, the dark-skinned guard was finally able to discern what they actually were. A human male and a human female dressed in sheer silk robes struggled through the sand. Bhakti’mat pushed off the rock he had been hiding behind and launched himself across the open sand between them. So focused were the two travelers on just continuing forward that they never saw the behemoth closing in. By the time the woman looked, it was too late.
The Zalkhein leapt from the top of the nearest dune, one leg stretched out before him and the other tucked back behind him. A massive fist cocked at the ready, he veritably flew through the air toward his targets. The fist hit her in the right temple, plowing into the thin flesh like a thrown rock. She instantly dropped to the sand and her male companion turned to see what had happened. Bhakti’mat landed almost silently, using his momentum to send his body in a tight pivot as he crouched low.
The man’s eyes were wide in terror as the hulking man before him exploded from his low position. The half-gigas’s fist connected in a vicious uppercut to the man’s jaw, sending him flying backward into the dunes. A scream escaped the traveler’s lips, for he knew he was doomed. The dark-skinned hunter closed in quickly, his longer legs closing the distance easily before the man could rise. A meaty fist grasped the man’s shirt, pulling him straight up in the air so that he looked straight into the piercing blue eyes of the Zalkhein.
“I am - ” the man never finished his sentence for Bhakti’mat’s other fist mashed his nose into his face, ending his life in an instant. The guard tossed the man over his shoulder and walked slowly back to where the woman lay. She was merely unconscious, her dark hair splayed across the ground like a fan and her chest rising and falling with every labored breath she drew. The guard gazed on her features before bending down and scoping her up in his arms. His work was done; time to return to his station.