The Arena...
The fiery breath of the Tattooine's desert blows over the fine-grain sand, over dunes and valleys as far as the eye could see. In the north, the desert broke off and gave rise to canyons, mesas and some hills where Blood-ants, Bladeck boars, Cliffborer worms, and Eopie flourished, to name a few. In the West there was a sprinkling of oasis. For miles in all directions, there was no human settlement nor the sight of technology. The nearest semblance of civilization lay a great distance away, for who'd want to live under this withering heat, a scalding wind, and among inhospitable fauna? None but acid lizards, bantha and dewbacks, duneclaws, sandbats and other critters who thrive in this harsh place. Most bury themselves in crevices and holes underground while others take refuge near a rare oasis. The desert holds many tales, many legends; of monsters that swim under the sand, and of demonic beasts that drags its victims screaming inside its massive mouth ringed with teeth under the sands. To live on the Tattooine's desert, one has to understand it. With its star-studded nights and a chill wind, the desert can be the most peaceful place in the galaxy, until it's not. For who knows what lurks under your feet?
...The Man...
It is almost mid-day, and a hot, dry wind is blazing over the dunes. On the crest of one of those, a cloaked figure stood silently, watching over to the horizon. The edges of his cloak flapped in the wind, and from under the hood the edges of the man's thick, black messy hair quivered. Though Lorn was sanding with the sun on his back, he still had to shield his deep, green eyes with a scarred arm. Thusly, he looked around as if looking for something. It took some time to find what he was looking for: a decrepit wreck of a massive luxury barge. Once up on a time, if the story is true, this barge hosted one of the most powerful Hutt crime lords. Unfortunately, his Hutt bit off more than he could shew, and met an agonizing end. The barge is now the only thing memorialized that once-titanic struggle. It's towards this wreckage that the cloaked figure walked deliberately. It was clear he wanted something from inside that wreck. Either that, or he maybe liked broken boats. The edges of his cloak around his feet skirted above the sands as he entered the wreck, waving away the dusty cobwebs and crimson canopies that once functioned as sails.
It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the low-light conditions inside the wreck. Lorn rubbed his eyes and scanned around him as he explored: broken furniture, fittings, wooden beams, some curios, burnt wooden floors with random holes large enough to send anyone falling the the black levels below, and perhaps a semblance of a throne at the far end of one room. His low footfalls made soft crunching noise on the dried and now-brittle, sun-dried, wooden floor. The human's senses had been alert as soon as he entered. He knew knew something was here. He could sense it.
...and The Beast
And then, he saw it.
His peripheral vision just registered something darting from one corner to another, just beyond the field of his vision. A low growl emanated from where the movement came. It did not like being disturbed, for it had been resting after a night of hearty meal. Lorn's senses warned him of something feral and animalistic, something not completely human. The glowl itself was fear-inducing, the kind of sound one usually runs away from. But he was not one to run away from a storm. He's usually found in the eye of storms. Grabbing his lightsaber, he ignited it, producing a blight green blade that gave rise to a smell of decay, and longer shadows on the walls.
"Come out of the shadows, beast. I know you're in here somewhere."
Almost immediately and as if in response to his challenge, the low growl rose into a resounding roar and from the shadows leapt out one of the largest lupine creatures he had ever beheld. It had launched itself into the air and was darting forward with superhuman speed. The human rolled out of the way just in time to save himself from being skewered by its claws. The snarling beast held no weapons, but its sharp claws and cruel, sharp teeth were weapons enough. Besides, it was massive! And if it could use the Force, this could be a steep challenge.
The massive bestial visage roared again, louder that the first one this time, and the roar shook dust from the broken ceiling, from where beams of bring lights illuminated the spots where they fell.
"You massacred half a Tusken village last night, you monster! Your days of killing innocents are over now. As long as I'm here, you will not kill again. You'll either come back to Botherhood space with me willingly, or as a dead carcass. I'm fine with wither of the options."
Fenrir only gave a low snarl and licked his cruel lips, as if to say he enjoyed the meat. However, he pondered over what the man had just said. Take him back to civilization, would he? He's like to see the puny human try! If he thinks he could end his fun and kill him, maybe he could recompense him by being his next supper himself. As if in reply to his words, Lorn saw fleeting visions in his mind. They weren't his memories nor of incidents he had heard of and imagined, although he wasn't too sure at first. He saw flashes of visions where he saw huts blazing against the black, starry desert sky, the sound of screams, mutilated body parts, mangled bodies and of blood flowing across the white sand in thin, red rivulets, shining against the fiery light.
The human almost reeled in shock, for he had realized that all these were the memories the monster was showing to him merely out of malice, as if to tell him how little he thought of his threat. He was almost in shock, but collected himself in almost an instant. He was no stranger to violence and massacres. He could not save the Tusken tribe, but at least he could avenge them.
"Dead carcass it is, then. Perhaps then the dead can be at peace!," saying so the Sith lunged at the beastial creature and swung in a wide arc, aiming at the middle torso. It dodged with superhuman speed. This was expected, and the Sith pushed on swinging precisely at the beast, but each time missing it, although a few times it singed its furry skin with the very edges of the lightsaber. The large wolfman snarled angrily at these, but did not attack mindlessly, focussing only of staying away from harm's way. He was testing the human's defences, sometimes scratching here, sometimes there. Thus they battled their way our of the wreck and onto the blazing, hot desert.
