Lone Hunter

[13skullz]

This is the first short story of the Scions of the Desert, my BRAND NEW DIY!

This will double as background for both Lone Hunter Arristotelli and Master of the Sanctity Arristotelli.

Enjoy.

 

 

 

“There they are, mutant fethers,” muttered Arristotelli. “They all deserve to die.”

 

Arristotelli is a Lone Hunter. Bane to mutants. A “Chaplain in Trial”. An elite killer.

 

Peering into his binocs, an ancient device, used for the telescopic viewing of objects many, many yards away, he saw what he was looking for. He saw, in the dusky gloom of the noontime darkness on the devastated planet of Sinaius Tertiam, a mutant patrol.

 

Ugly disgusting things horribly bloated and distended, their skin like rotting carcasses, dressed in tanned hides of indigenous animals, they set up base camp. Two of the ten lit a fire using wood cut from the devastated trees that made up a dark and foreboding forest off on the horizon. The other eight set up tents and took up watch in pairs.

 

“I ought to get going then, if I want to be able to finish my trial and further myself in the ranks of Chaplaincy.”

 

Drawing his bolt pistol, silenced yet just as devastating as a normal boltgun, he stalked down the path towards the mutant camp.

 

Suddenly, one of the guards turned in his relative direction. Without thinking, he ducked behind a bush, just off to his left, as his survival and infiltration instincts kicked in.

 

The guards alerted the camp, and they all stayed put, none venturing off to continue patrol.

 

His attack would now be entirely unexpected.

 

Flanking the camp, Arristotelli made his way around to the rear, just behind an unlit tent. Unsheathing his hunting knife, essentially a shortened power sword with his off hand, he cut his way through the thick material of the tent. Once inside, he came up to face the back of one of the mutants, the leader of the group, judging by the kill tallies and overly-spiked armor it wore. It was in a trance, and never noticed the ever so slight hum of the power weapon its killer had, drawn.

Holstering his pistol and raising his hands, slowly reaching around so one armored glove was directly over the mutant’s mouth and the other clenching the knife next to its throat, Arristotelli forcefully jerked in an upwards motion towards himself, severing the carotid artery, jugular vein and larynx, killing the mutant leader, silently, and held his blade close to cauterize the wound to be sure none would find its trail of mutated blood.

 

One of the mutants, an aide to the leader and carrier of a broken down Imperial Guard issue vox-caster, rushed into the tent, babbling nonsense from its broken down vocal cords, and, in a display of speed that would rival the gun slinging “cowboys” during the western expansion of Old Earth’s pict recordings, Arristotelli drew his bolt pistol and shot the fleeing mutant twice in the head, then caught its body and dragged it into the tent.

 

‘This will be a good hunt,’ thought Arristotelli.

 

 

 

Well, hoped y'all liked it. C&C much appreciated.