Log:Something Fowl in the Air
Something Fowl in the Air
OOC Date: June 25, 2021
Location: Chandrila
Participants: Wrrlryyhn as GM and herself, Xyomara, Fshmaw, Khalim, Aryn Cortess, and Hahtavi
The Basics: Deep in the wilds of the Chandrila Game Reserve, a king rules a feathery roost. Rumors and legends have sprung up about a feathered giant that stalks these protected woods. A giant no sentient has managed to track, capture, or kill. Cloaked in red and blue feathers and followed by a gaggle of hens. No one has reliably seen enough of the game bird to accurately name the species, definitely a game fowl though and definitely big. Big enough to help feed an army or perhaps refugees from occupied planets.
Rumors have circulated about the legendary Fowl King of Wild Game Reserve. Dozens of witnesses claim to have spotted him, even fuzzy holo photos are available on the holonet. His size varies depending on report from half a meter tall to several meters. One thing is clear, the red and blue plumage. Witnesses claim the King to be in the company of a bevvy of hens, whose numbers vary from half a dozen to several dozens. No matter the actual number, it's likely enough meat to feed an army, or very nearly.
A notice has gone up, announcing the formation of a hunting party. The purpose of this hunt? To find the Fowl King. They met at the entrance of the park, including one Wookiee. Already tacked, saddled, and waiting were a pack of Ghorla, with several docile equinoids for less experienced riders.
The hunting party traveled deep into the Reserve. Now, they stand before a wooded glen. Tall Sienta trees stand all around, like silent sentinels. The sides leading into the glen are too steep to take their mounts, so to continue, they must travel afoot.
Well, hunting. Should be easy enough. At least that is, what a Chiss decide, arriving in a lot of beige. Beige Dungarees, shorts, a wide beige jacket and what looks to be a Safari hat. And of course the obligatory, polished boots, matching the polished sword sheath "Miss... Uhm..." she starts "Wrr." she finally offers, evidently having trrouble with the name for some reason, looking at the animals with a grin, beore pouting at the glen "I am sure there must be an option..." she starts, clearly not seeing logic
Fshmaw has, as was perhaps inevitable, gotten into an argument with his eopie. Foosh explains, or attempts: "yhasu adefaetu. iekoove ghuh." His MTD struggles mainly with the creature's replies, which come back as often gibberish as: "ij. ij. ij."
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Fshmaw, "Sit still. Be calm. Neigh. Neigh. Neigh."
Khalim was neither zoo nor aquarium trained, and so for this expedition's packing he went with what he'd seen on the holos. A pistol, a half day's water, a book on snake bites, and a whistle. Scouting he could do. Birds were another matter.
Reaching the interior, and climbing off the rather non-Ghorla 'for inexperienced riders' equinoid, the Mirialan checks his pockets, checks the soles of his shoes, checks his hair, and then checks in. "Whirl," he says, reaching the Wookiee. "Is it too early to claim a leg?" The rest of the expedition receive polite nods in hello.
Hunting parties were a native tradition of Alderaanians, and it was something Aryn had grown fond of when she was a child. She often attended the party with her Lord Father, and followed his adventures through the Delayan forests, and later, those of New Alderaan. In the absence of her father, Aryn feels out of place, like it is foreign. Thus, the highborn blonde remains near the rear of the group atop her beast and riding casually with a collapsed spear strapped to her back and an ornate blaster holstered on her thigh. She's brought a special outdoors cape, complete with the furs of her past hunts decorating the collar.
When they arrive at the steep region of terrain, she had to abandon her beast; thus, she climbed down and took a moment to tie the creature off so she wouldn't have to walk back home.
The last rider of the group has come cloaked with a hood, his features or armor at least partly obscured. The humanoid, probabably male, rides one of the more docile ghorla that is content to follow along behind the others. When they stop and must descend into the glen on foot, this rider hops down and snags the beast's reins into the branches ere he will quietly begin to follow the others.
Only once they begin the descent does he pull back his hood revealing a Mandalorian's helm and his rifle is pulled around and clipped to his tactical sling.
If Aryn should glance back, Hahtavi gives her a respectful but silent nod.
The Woods are thick here, as is the under growth. Dead fall and leaf detritus crunch under the boots of the bold hunters. As they dismount, a flock of song birds take flight from their roosts in a nearby copse of trees. The sun filters down weakly in the afternoon haze.
The Wookiee wears her armor, and a spear, and of course, her bow caster. Knowing several of the hunters present, she waved and/or hugged were applicable prior to setting out. As with the others, she dismounts her poor equinoid and and gathers the reins of the other ghorlas, offering to tie the off as Aryn had done. She warbles softly as she does so "Most of the roarrl have been rwowoal here, we grarrrl rwoarl worieowl rwowoal, rwal the rwal."
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Wrrlryyhn, "Most of the sightings have been near here, we should probably start down, into the glen."
Fshmaw's jungle is a different one, but he attempts to follow similar rules: 'Stick close to the competent' is one, but '... be prepared to betray them/have them betray you' is-- it's the same rule. Careful to follow cues from more successful hunters, he has his attention too on not being shot in the back just yet.
Xyomara walks in her boots. Sadly, they aren't made for sneaking, as she keeps her hands on her weapons, looking around "Might have needed the speed of the equines." she starts, tilting her head, not used to jungles. No. She was comfortable on a ship. And those rarely had wild animals for some reason. Something about being a hostile habitat, she imagines
Aryn happens to glance back to see she has a Mandalorian behind her who nods; they must be one she knows. She waves back, offering a friendly smile before regarding her beast and the burden she had placed within its saddle. She pulls a bag off, more like a satchel, then takes a kit intended for cleaning a fresh kill, pausing a moment to tuck it away. When it secure, she glances to the Wookiee who informs them that the most sightings have been in this region. While many go about their own methods of hunting, Aryn spots a game trail of sorts.. one which she quietly reasons leads to water, and follows it. Her attempt at becoming a part of her surroundings by use of the force was a subtle attempt, but ultimately, it ends in failure, leaving her visible to those who intend to follow her to this water source.
Once the party has penetrated deeply enough within the preserve, mounts tied off and stealthy, sneaky further exploration is begun, Khalim sets out in their general collective direction. The man is a scout by training, but this is not his domain. Nor is covert action generally his forte.
The Mirialan steps, as quietly as he can. Each footfall planted according to his desire to remain /quiet/. CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUUUUNCH CRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCH. Up goes his foot. Down comes his foot. Gingerly, with a soft meeting of sole and what looks like it should be bare ground. CRUNCH.
Down he goes, into the glen. CRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCH. His feet attract dry leaves, twigs, rocks, and long-ago discarded candy wrappers with stunningly regularity.
The Mandalorian allows the others to descend a head of him so that he may hang back. Hahtavi doesn't want to bunch up and he's moving more quietly than the others, keeping an eye on their six. If this giant fowl is as large as some rumors suggest it may be a dangerous beast not to be taken lightly. Who knows about it's so called 'hens'. Possibly strong legs and sharp talons for all he knows so he's staying frosty and alert, rifle in his hands.
Hanging back also allows him to distance himself slightly from the others talking. This is hunting. Absolutely no talking from him when he's trying to listen and move quietly.
Jungles are decidedly not his thing yet Hahtavi's been getting a lot of practice working in them. Should the canopy closing overhead dim the light too much, his helmet's low light sensors automatically compensate to keep his vision sharp and clear.
Wrr brings up the straggling rear, a bit behind Hahtavi, the Mandalorian. Fortunately, they make a fairly quiet rear guard, as the others crunch dry twigs merrily beneath their feet. Aryn seems to have a good instinct and does in fact lead the others to a picturesque brook. It babbles melodically over moss covered stones, and winds it's way to modest little pond.
Fshmaw squats, pointing out the connection between 'water' and 'animal' as best a city-boy jail-bird can. "gafoonu yvyka," he shows. "aaghiekah... koopakimaa. afed-- aloo." He *might* mean 'small versions of edible animals have left tracks here!' But he might be hungry, too, so.
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Fshmaw, "Look here, Chicken... nuggets. Fish-- fishsticks."
Xyomara may not be a seasoned hunter, but she knows tactics. Yes. Yes. she heard it. Let's not say she weren't out of her element "Ys. Yes. I see." she starts, reaching for her weapons "Now, I b elieve we should lay an ambush. Climb trees, hide in bushes... use camouflage." she continues, tilting her head
Though he's far from quiet, Khalim is alert and able to read some of what this forest is telling him. Bending low a time or two, the Mirialan points to bits of disturbed forest floor. Fshmaw's nearby attempt to identify the critters that have been frequenting what looks to be a babbling brook and nearby pond prompt a nod out of Khalim. "Yes, chicken nuggets. Headed..." He points in the direction of that nearby pool. "Over ther, most likely." Rising, he sets off in that direction, still as quiet as a mating veractyl.
Aryn heads for the brook, staying quiet for now and simply following the trail to the source of water. This seems the ideal spot for the hunt, if the party can manage staying quiet. Finding her spot to wait, Aryn settles into place and quietly begins to meditate. If someone had been watching her, they might have noticed that one second she was there, and the next.. she was gone.
The Mandalorian in their group doesn't mind at all that the Wookiee decided to drop even further back than he, as long as Wrrlryyhn doesn't crowd him and she moves quietly. She seems capable enough not to be annoying him. Hahtavi remains silent, studying animal tracks he sees in the soft ground here and there but nothing large enough for him to bother pointing out to the others. If he would.
While some of the others go to look around the stream, the Mandalorian stays back and watchful. Hahtavi uses his helmet's binos to zoom in on opens between the trees, looking up into the tall trunks and limbs above as much as he's scanning the ground level and brush. He stands very still, listening. At least until the others are moving along and spreading out ahead once more.
Xyomara may lay her ambush but Hahtavi would rather stalk his prey than lay up in a blind for hours. He looks to the Wookie, then walks a little distance up the brook in the opposite direction Khalim goes, watchful.
As the party spreads and begins to search for a trail, the Wookiee pulls up and stops. She has followed loosely behind, but now she chirrs softly and tries to get everyone's attention with a waving hand. She motions rapidly, and pulls a metal spear from off her back. She adopts a low, ready stance, spear held loosely but at the ready.
Fshmaw, responding to some dim cue in the nearby treeline, might figure they've already been as subtle as an intoxicated garbage-man in getting in-- taking a chance, he fires *fzzt* at the nearest potential bird!
Xyomara meanwhile doesn't notice anything, jerking up as she hears a blaster, pulling both her pistol and sword in a cross-draw fashion, the glint of the sword possibly attracting a bird... if it is a giant magpie
Khalim's slowly approaching that pond, though he does halt for a moment. His gaze had drifted past Aryn's still form when... he's looked back, just a split second later and she was /gone/. Had the faded from his peripheral vision? A moment's confusion, attention shifting to the left and right, and /nothing/. She must have slipped behind a tree. Right?
Then *fzzt*, as Fshmaw blind-fires into one of the eight thousand bushes within view. As if it simply -materializes- Khalim's own pistol, a sleek Merr-Sonn affectionately referred to by its manufacturer as a 'DeathHammer' is in hand, though he does not fire. In a low crouch, suddenly much more attentive eyes shift to the other side of the brook, at Hahtavi approaching in parallel.
If he failed to hear the giant Death Chickens approaching, he's probably not going to catch the Wookie making soft chirring sounds. The Mandalorian has proceeded a bit up the brook far enough not to immediately hear her. Though he does glance back to keep tabs on the rest of their group. Most of his attention is for the trees above, the brush and keeping an eye out for tracks. For all they can tell he might have loud Death Metal music playing inside of his helmet.
Hard to miss Fshmaw's firing off into the trees. Hahtavi stops and spins around, rifle ready as he seeks for targets to mark into his helmet's tracking system. Nope, no giant Fshmaw eating huge blue and red fowl yet. Shame.
A glance back at the Wookie. Wait, where /did/ Aryn go? Suddenly she reveals her position and he turns his head to look in the direction she too is firing.
Aryn had a good understand of where their quarry were, she could hear the rustle and noise as they closed in. Although Khalim and Hahtavi may have lost sight of her, Aryn returned, firing off a series of shots in the direction their hunt was coming from. The thrill of it exciting her enough to prompt a jog whilst getting into a better position to fire. She didn't call out, although it probably wouldn't hurt given she just opened fire!
From underbrush bursts a wild flock of critters. These raptavions most resemble some sort of wild Nuna, a mix of reptile and turkey. Waddles hang down from their beak-less, frog like faces. They have no wings, but strong legs and ridged dorsal spines. At the end of those legs are three toed feet, capped by sharp, scythe like talons. Covered dark blue scales and rich red feathers the Fowl King stands a bit under a meter in height, with the hens being closer to half a meter, and much more muted in coloring, 5 hens in total. They charge first with a burst of furious sound, and literally puff up, almost doubling in breadth, like inflating balloons. Feathers stand on end adding to their pierce size, at least likely to a natural predator. The hens spread out in a tight v behind their King, as he make this fierce display, defending his ladies.
Fshmaw continues firing as the very target of legend comes into view, ineffectually spattering the ferns and grasses with smoking plasma. *zzap,* a giant cloud of ozone-scented steam. TAKE THAT YOU DAMNED... CRABGRASS...
Xyomara raises her pistol, starting to run towards the king with her sword in her other hand, letting out a warcry, as those belong in a desperate charge, the steel glistening in the light, perhaps blindin some unfortunate person
That raptavian pack, centered around the Fowl King, is spotted the moment they emerge in their furious hop-along charge. Khalim drops to a knee beside a towering tree trunk and sights his pistol in on the leader of the pack. With a quick double-tap two tibana-energized particle bolts splash into dirt just ahead of the squawk-croaking, charging beast. He grimaces at the misses, that V formation now closer.
Wait. /That/ is the supposedly giant King of the birds they have been hunting for? Admittedly, it's a good looking animal, and hopefully they prove vicious enough, but unlike others Hahtavi just stands there watching. This isn't the huge three meter tall beast he was hoping for. If they could see his face, the Mandalorian looks disappointed.
Others are firing away. The Mandalorian, like the Wookie, merely stays alert to any other possible threats and lets the others have their fun.
Hahtavi doesn't even try to get a shot off. These aren't even large enough to ride. The Mandalorian stands ready should he be attacked.
Aryn witnesses the display and valiant charge of the King, though unfortunately, it marks him as the likely target. Her first shot goes askew, smashing into a tree and exploding into splinters. She adjusts her aim, looking a bit more poised and extending her arm out like a pistol duelist. Her second shot rings true, smashing into the torso of the animal to bring it down for the count. Unsure that it had passed from the second shot, Aryn shot instinctively a third time, but the shot misses wildly, because her intended target crumbled and slid across the ground.
And so the King falls. His hens spread out, eager to defend their fallen lord. They rush, spreading out among the hunters, kicking with those razor sharp toe talons. They might not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but those talons certainly are. Good thing not a one seems to be able to land a strike.
Xyomara raising her pistol, Xyo fires straight towards the fowl trying to cut her to pieces, hitting it with a shot to the chest, before trying to return the favour by sword. But... the stupid bird is too quick, causing her to cut the air, resulting in a huff of frustration
Fshmaw does his best merely to keep the angered flock off-guard and at a suitable distance, hopefully frightening and confusing them! Bright lights! Heat! LOUD NOISES! Certainly 'accuracy' is not a threat he brings to the table yet...
And just like that, the fallen King's harem is upon them. One charges Khalim, it's stompy sprint bringing it near the Mirialan but it's too rage-filled for nimble footwork. It snaps and snaps and blasts right past, Khalim in a stance-shifting turn with it, pistol tracking. Two reports sound out, as red streaks with a static sizzle. One impacts the side of that little frog-like turkey, while the other shoots far, and further, and further yet, finally impacting a distant tree. The tree, fortunately, survives to fight another day.
The others are shooting and some shots are bound to be flying wild. Hahtavi doesn't engage but he does eye some of the wilder shots, wondering if one of the others might shoot him by mistake. If they do, that might not go well for them. It might however spice up the Bounty Hunter's evening. Otherwise he merely stands there and watches the evening's entertainment as reptillian avians go flyng or leaping every which way and kick up a lot of noise in the forest.
The Mandalorian does turn his helm briefly to see what the Wookiee thinks of this little fiasco. The bird things are fast! Some of the shots seem to be connecting. With trees, mostly.
Aryn has to avoid being harmed by one of the hens that make for her. She tumbles away, sliding down a small ditch to land back on her feet to turn. Bringing the pistol up and taking aim, Aryn made a last second adjustment and fired into the hen, sinking a crimson bolt into its body! She missed there after, firing after it and not quite tracking her target as she intended.
As Hahtavi looks over, the Wookiee releases her spear, and catches one of the hens through the breast. Wrr does not hunt for sport, she hunts for food. While these hens don't represent any great trophy prize, just one of them will easily feed a half dozen soldiers or refugees, if not more. She crosses to the felled Hen, to retrieve her spear.
With most of their number depleted, the remaining two hens pair up. Whether by happen chance, or an intended tactic, the two together face down Aryn, and lash out with those dangerous feet. As fast as they are though, they just aren't fast enough.
Fshmaw himself could've been rankled by the noise and the smoke of combat, but with better odds come choices made in-- perhaps-- relative calm, and he finally lands a wounding bolt on one of the remaining few hens! "yfafepae aaghiekah!" he cries, triumphant!
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Fshmaw, "FRIED CHICKEN!"
They probably /are/ good eating. Seems a shame to kill the entire flock though. The Mando seems content to watch the others. He's here and Hahtavi can easily keep hunting once they are done here. Meanwhile maybe this is amusing. He stands relaxed, watching Aryn getting mobbed by a few at once. But though she's getting a workout, she's proving to be pretty fast herself. Informational experience.
The lady-beast that had charged him crumpled in a bolt-smoking heap of frog-wattle chunky legs sticking straight up, Khalim turns just in time to see the two remaining harem members charging Aryn. She's close, the Mirialan's shifts from tree to tree having drawn him just a tree away. Not wanting to discharge his blaster in such close quarters with the Doctor, he jogs, reels his foot back, and lets loose a mighty kick. It lands squarely on a raptavian rump, sending the doomed creature flying through the air in a sort of impression of flight. Maybe.
Aryn does not want to chance hitting Khalim at close quarters with her weapon, which she's proved to be far from an expert at using, at least with regard to tracking her target! She slides the weapon back into it holster, dancing back from the pair of hens before tumbling to one side again. When she transitioned back to her feet, she cast her cape aside and turned on the final hen as it charged her. One hand came up and Aryn released an unseen wave of kinetic energy that not only stopped the animal dead in its tracks, but then sent it flying against a tree behind it with a definitive crunch. "I did not want to do that," She grumbled, feeling like the sport of the hunt was robbed by her use of telekinesis. A kill was a kill though and Aryn ventured to the departed animal just to make sure it was gone, and not suffering in some way.
Fshmaw observes: "agyrh-- agyrh--" he struggles for the word? "eareliefaeth-aaky. 'koopakimaa!' koopakimaa!"
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Fshmaw, "No-- no-- Omelet-station. 'Nests!' NESTS!"
The hunt seems mostly to be over. As Wrr moves in to start the cleaning and gathering process, Fshmaw brings up a salient point. Where are those omelette stations? Six adult 'birds' with 5 females to one lucky fella? Gotta be some nests out there somewhere. And Nuna eggs make for good eatin'. For now though, at least the Wookiee seems satisfied with the hunt as is. "grarrrl rwarrl feed wrall." She warbles to anyone nearby. She begrudges no one for taking their cut, but whatever is left over she donates to The Cause.
Wasaka (21433) repeats after Wrrlryyhn, "This will feed many."
Well, the others are having a good time. Hahtavi politely inclines his helmed head to Wrrlryyhn, then to Aryn, and finally to Khalam. Fshmaw, the Mandalorian doesn't know. <"Enjoy yourselves. Someone please see my mount is returned.">
As for himself? Hahtavi urns and starts walking off through the trees quietly. Seems he wants to slip away and do some solo hunting of his own much more quietly for a while. Paid for his hunting permit, may as well stay out here over night and see what he may find.
Khalim nods in respectful farewell as the Mandalorian takes his leave. The remaining members of this elite Fowl hunting crew receive help gathering up their kills, and maybe even the climb of a tree or two in search of omelette stations.
