Hey y'all.

Just a quick bit before you meet the King.

Italics - Spoken Yautja

Regular - Spoken English

Bold - Spoken Old Norse

84 years later.

In the lone dark, the young King of Uan'keip sits in front of the control panel gazing at the small, primal planet before him. His intricate golden armor caught the low light of the cosmos as he commanded the sleeping royal carrier. The metallic glint, a stark contrast against the dark blue hues of his skin as he awaits for the sunrise. His tusks, decorated with golden cusps, click together in anticipation as he overlooks the control bay, steering the small royal ship towards his target.

The entire solar system was made up of 9 smaller planets and a single sun. Though the planet was small, it held some of the best Ooman warriors that Dakarai has ever seen. The strongest being the 'God Slayer' he'd heard rumor of. When summoning the live feed of many previous hunts from fallen warriors, the King knew he had to participate before the Ooman had aged. That hadn't been the case though, it had been years since Dakarai had inherited his Reign and the human never seemed to age a day - if that was what he truly was.

Dakarai had saved this hunt as a celebratory one, bringing in a decade of his Reign. It was a hunt much anticipated since his newfound duties had taken over the majority of his time, not that he minded. It's just been far too long for his liking. It was a quick hunt a few times a year, but he planned to take his time with this one.

Behind him, a door slides open. Dr. Naomi Underhill, a human geneticist, steps in. The door closing shut behind her as she makes her way to the king. It's been three years since she had decided to take a leap of faith and work for the King, and my, has she been rewarded greatly with knowledge. Human technologies were miniscule compared to the Yautja, and not to toot her own horn, but she was correct about everything she had theorized before working with the Yautja. She just didn't have the correct technologies to do so.

"King Dakarai" Naomi pauses in greeting, making her presence known. Not that she necessarily had too. He was an apex predator, she knew he had heard her quiet steps coming down the hall, and he had most likely caught her scent before that. Dakarai turns his head slightly, still facing forward and away from her, waiting for the doctor to continue.

"I uh-" she fiddles with the tablet in her hands "I have something to show you"

"Come" he commanded, readying the dock for the tablet to sit in. He too was impressed by the doctor and her knowledge. When he placed her underneath Nagwa's guidance, the doctor had flourished, not only with her genetic splicing research, but everything else she decided to research. He respected her and her opinion when it came to quite a few things.

After placing the tablet in the dock beside him, she pulls up the information on the thermal display for him to see. The low red light, making the yautja look even more menacing, if that was even possible.

"Do you see those points of energy?" She asks looking over the king, who observed the display. His eyes, bright and orange, dart between each of the planets, making correlations between each. Looking to her left, she was eye level with the king, even though he was sitting and she was standing. He was one of the biggest Yautja she has ever seen, and it still amazed her. Standing at her small height of 5 foot, she considered herself a dwarf compared to him.

"Soon we will land" his voice deep and guttural without the aide of his mask "You take the youngbloods, and study what you find"

To say that the usually calm and collected Yautjan King was furious was an understatement. The anticipation for this trophy had been high. The 'God Slayer' as the Yautja had dubbed him, had bested several seasoned hunters and even a few elites over the last few decades. Dakarai had wanted this to be a ceremonial one, reigning in a decade of his reign. Though when informed it wasn't the 'God Slayer' sitting atop the throne in the stone castle, he nearly went berserk. Which led him to where Dakarai stood now.

Before him sat a fat blubbering king who now bore a broken nose and gnarly gashes on his neck and face. Dakarai had been anticipating this hunt for far too long and was more than angry that the hunt had been stolen from him. He planned on ripping this man apart limb from limb, when a young blooded warrior chattered though the com that his presence was needed below the castle.

Commanding the two young bloods to take and bind the false king, he turned on the ball of his foot and exited the room, not having to duck through the archway in this giant human castle. Walking tall and regal throughout the stone hallway, Dakarai's golden armour glimmers in the lowlight of the torches lighting his way. His staff, collapsed and attached to his waist, along with several other pieces of weaponry. The only noise being his large footfalls against the polished stone and the dragging sound of the rich burgundy material of his royal mantle.

With his long strides, it had only taken him a few moments to meet the Hunter who had summoned him. Tan'tu was a warrior who usually assisted the king with several tasks and a well decorated hunter, despite his young age. He was someone who Dakarai had hoped to rise through the ranks before him, and with Tan'tu's dedication and loyalty, it wouldn't be long before his maxes out his status in the Royal guard. Wordlessly, like always, Tan'tu leads the king down a small hallway of twisted stairs. Feeling the temperature drop and the air grow heavier as they make their way below the ground.

Stepping off the last stair he was met with a soft voice echoing through the dampness of what seemed to be a row of holding cells. With a slight slant of his head, he follows it, as if calling him near. Femanine and sotto voce. Calm and serene. Dakarai inhales, a scent bearing much resemblance to the one of the Fallen King - His mask confirming so as silence fills the damp hallway. Nothing but shallow breath, his keen hearing picks up as he comes to stand in front of the cell that housed a being as femanine as her voice. Her arms bound and chained to the posts to her sides as her body sat folded and on her knees. The smell of blood, fresh and old, was heavy as it mixed with the musky scent of the trickling water and stone that filled the lower levels of the castle.

Pushing against the wrought iron, the lock breaks free, causing its inhabitant to stir at the straining metal. Upon stepping inside the cell to the woman hanging limp from the chains, he felt a heavy and dare he say, uneasy feeling, plant itself and grow within his broad chest. This was not an ordinary woman, that much he was nearly certain of. The symbols painted on the floor around her only aided his suspicions.

There were legends of beings with 'gifts' said to have once walked the lands, like most tall tale fables of most planets. Though, his kind has witnessed a few living amongst the planets in this solar system bear those abilities, her father being one of them. Clicking his tucks in anticipation whilst wondering what her abilities could entail. Would she make for a worthy hunt? He had called many of his brethren off of her father to save for his ceremonial hunt, one that he wouldn't necessarily be taking since the Fat one sat in his place.

Approaching the woman his orange deep set eyes whisked over her beneath his mask, taking in all her detail. Her marred wrist from battling the shackles against her skin and her clothing hanging off of her thin body in tattered ribbons. Another warrior enters the cell behind the king, feeling the familiar presence of his younger brother, Bashuka.

"Offspring of the God Slayer?" Bashuka's deep voice grovels in their home language.

Not bothering to reply, he moves towards her head hanging limply from her shoulders. His Biomask scanning every read her body had to give. Her blood beat was weak, though steady. Her chest, marred with burns and sticky blood, heaved while her lungs struggled to breath in and out. Though despite all these things, it was the shackles and the collar that drew his attention; they were humming with an unknown energy.

With a grunt of distaste, Bashuka stepped around the King, seeking his own answers. Grabbing the jaw of the woman forcing her head to look up so they could get a better look. Her eyes stirred beneath her lids as the coagulated blood and bruises made it difficult to justify if the bone structure resembled the fallen king.

Her eye pops open, and her instinct takes flight in their presence before her. The chains rub together, the tension from being taught, as she yanks her face free from the hunter's grip. Looking at the now 3 humanoid beings in the room, she does what neither one of them expects them to. She laughs - her bright whites in stark contrast from the dark blood covering her skin.

"You're a little late 'hunter'" she bites through the laugh "the King is already dead."

Her face twisted with a dark emotion, she becomes still as Bashuka reaches for her face once more. His biomask aiding him in the translations of her language as he crouches to meet her fiery gaze.

"The offspring will be his replacement" her language giving him trouble as his tongue attempted to roll over the sounds. Within an instant she pulled her face from his grasp and spit at his helm.

Winding his fist up to beat in the pest's skull with an angry snarl, Dakarai commands him to stop with a growl. Summoning all his inner strength as he looks down at the meek girl hanging limply by her bound arms and neck and lets out a small roar, nearly touching her face. The girl's eye falls shut, waiting for the being to stop.

"Fucking Human" he stands tall, Bashuka's words directed at her.

"Not human" the king's heavy voice trills as he takes a few strides making his way to her. "The symbols on the floor and this device are keeping her energy contained"

He points to the heavy stone collar around her neck. Now that he was close he could see the same symbols carved into it like they were on the floor, which he was nearly positive were painted in her blood. At this angle he was able to see the injuries across her back. Several open wounds across the spanse of milky flesh, most likely caused from a whip.

Seeing a common pattern he moves around her to get a better look. It was something carved into her flesh, some closed, some still weeping with fresh blood. His biomask scanning, once more.

Voula. A word unfamiliar to him, though not to the translation archives.

Witch

So she did possess abilities then. Pleased, he moved around once more and lowered himself down to her level, much like his younger brother had. Her icey hue followed his every move as he did so. Skadi knew she couldn't look away, it was trying to gain it's dominance. Not that he necessarily had to make a hard attempt from their positioning.

He admired her and the way she was standing her ground. Stubbornness is a good trait to have when fighting for your life. He may not be able to hunt her this time around, but perhaps when she was healed. He could hold her captive until then, and when able to, release her on a planet of his choosing. Yes, he very much liked that idea. Removing her from her natural element would only increase her survival instincts.

"Witch" his first attempt at the word was less than desirable but it would have to do. A quick snort blew from her nose as she answered him.

"I am no witch" she nearly growls as she pulls against the chains, correcting him "Humans fear what they don't know. So as it goes, naturally, I must be destroyed" Her words striking Dakarai's curiosity as he tilts his large head. His long tubal locks fall over his broad shoulder as he waits for her to continue.

"I may reside in Midgard, but my lineage is of Vanaheim and of Alfheim" Dakarai looks towards Bashuka, who gives a shrug before losing his patients as he kicks himself off the wall he was leaning against.

"Break the shackles Brother, let us hunt!" Bashuka pounds a fist against his chest, ready for a good battle.

"You will wait for my word." He growls at Bashuka. "She is in no condition to participate"

The one thing he always loathed about his brother, is that he was too impatient and too rash. He often told him that it would be his downfall in later years.

His attention came back to the girl in front of him. Her only eye, not swollen shut, bores into his own, as if she could see his eye past the tinted glass of his mask.

With a swift movement, Dakarai grabs the stone at her neck and crushing it, before yanking the chains free from the post. Dakarai stands slowly, eyeing the female as she sits, unmoved by his actions. He watches intently as the girl's breathing increases before she closes her eyes and clenches her fists in strain. Feeling the hum of energy flit through the room, he eyes her - especially the wounds that began to sew themselves back together. Shrinking until they were nothing.

He wasn't expecting that, and neither did he expect her next move.

She looked up at him, still on her knees and smirked. It was only for an instant before she was gone in a vapor of black dust.

Dakarai let out a roar, grasping the air where she had been. Opening his hand he inspects the black dust, sparkling like fine gemstones in the low light before letting it fall through his digits. His mask scanning it quickly and coming up short with any information. Looking around the room once more he snarled again. Her scent and everything about her - vanished. She wasn't cloaked like his kind, his heat seeking vision would have seen right through it.

Turning quickly on his heel, the king barrels out of the cell and up the stairs. Only stopping when he caught the familiar scent of pine. Crashing through several wooden doors of the castle. Only stopping when reaching what seemed to be a bedchamber. The few young blooded warriors, who were tasked with keeping the false king, look at each other with confusion as their king rushes at them. It was only a millisecond later that a terrified and painful cry came from the door behind them.

Fucking young bloods paying attention to nothing!

The King roars mightily as he breaks through that one too, his combistick at the ready. The sight before him was one he actually enjoyed more than he cared to admit. Skadi stood tall in front of the now screaming fat King, who was clutching at the stump to where his hand used to be. Not paying Dakarai any mind, she continued while he watched with intent as she dropped the hand. The severed hand made a sickening plop as it made it's contact with the hard stone of the castle's floor.

He looks on as heat gathers on her back through her mane of silver hair, a strange symbol appearing as it burns hot. His biomask not being able to translate for it was only a moment before a large decorated battle axe appeared in its place. He had underestimated the abilities of the people here. A mistake he would make sure to never make again.

"You fucking bitch!" The Fat man screamed at her as he sat trembling in the creaking wooden chair. "You will rot in the pits of Niflhel!"

With a sickening smile, she removes the axe from her back and places her free palm atop his shaven head as she bends to his eye level.

"If that is what is to become of me, then I will see you there" Her voice cold and clipped as her face remains stoic.

Skadi inhales a deep breath and closes her eyes, focusing her energy. Her recent stay in the cell had been a draining one, normally she doesn't have to focus this hard.

Dakarai watches closely, feeling his brother come to a halt behind him and feel the strum of energy once more. He could nearly see the air vibrating around her axe and the head of the false king. Ice began to cover the axe blade while Dakarai saw the head of the pudgy man drop dramatically in temperature. There were pants and gargles of pain coming from the now powerless man. It was merely seconds before the king was dead, a scream caught in his throat before it too froze. The temperatures reading in the negatives. Skadi raised her axe and brought down the flat side resulting in the head to shatter, hitting the ground like shards of glass, clinking and clattering amongst the stone before stopping in their final resting place.

Feeling herself breathing heavily, she turns slowly to the other beings in the room. Catching the eyes of the regal King, she gave a quick wave with her thin fingers before vanishing in her dust entirely.

Letting out an earth shattering roar, Dakarai kicks the large dining table in front of him, splitting it entirely. He needed to find her.

"Send for Underhill" he forces out, calming himself before turning to Bashuka. "Do. Not. Kill. Her."

Pointing a talon in his brother's face before nodding his head, sending him forth along with the two young bloods behind him. With a final look at the icebound body, Bashuka nodded, completely at a loss of words before stepping out of the room, in search of the anomaly.

With the others dismissed, Dakarai turns back to the body in the center of the room. In a few strides he was standing before the carcass. He bends, examining the crystalline remains of the lower jaw, his mask scanning everything.

-72 degrees

It had only taken her seconds. Not only could she transport herself, she could heal as well. Control ice and summon weapons, who knows what else she may be able to do. Grabbing the neck of the fallen king, Dakarai squeezed, breaking through the muscle and bone like glass. The shards falling to the cool stone beneath his feet. That felt invigorating. With this power, he could truly become unstoppable, but first he needed to handle the virus affecting the young of his planet. She could heal herself in seconds, could she heal others as well?

Tossing what was left of the carcass to the side, the king scans the room, searching for anything that could aid him with information. Looking down, the hunter drops his large body, resting on his haunches, observing the severed mitt. Her scent of the Alpine trees overpowering that of the actual blood from the human.

Chuffing, he stands, tasking himself to find her bed chamber. He needed to know everything about the woman. A room with her personal belongings would be a good place to start.

After stepping out of the room and following her essence to the end of the hall. A symbol carved into the wood allows the King to run a thick black talon amongst the etching. The tech in his helm matching the symbol that seared itself onto her back - an Aegishjalmur, though there wasn't a description on what it had meant, meaning the database was reaching an end when it came aiding him on what little he knew about this planet.

Nearly breaking the door off its hinges, the king shoves the door open. His mask read everything in the room, but what had caught his attention was the bird sitting on its perch. Calm and collected as it sat unmoving. Dakarai nearly thought it to be a stuffed trophy, until the blood beat in its chest could be heard. It watches as he steps into the room and takes note of anything out of the ordinary. A common barn owl, his mask informs him, an unworthy foe.

Various linens and pelts littered the floor and walls, signs of many successful hunts, and with a size of a few, were most likely challenging ones. There was a single window letting in the cool, natural light of the planet and beneath it sat a desk, decorated with a few skulls of various birds and smaller felines among several crystals and candles for lighting. Beside it were ceiling tall shelves stuffed with various scrolls and books, all organized to perfection. The bed was massive, plenty big enough for even a yautja, as it sat in the corner, decorated in heavy furs for the cold nights of the planet. Off to the side sat a bathing tub and a mirror. Curious, Dakarai steps to the vanity, taking note of her toiletries. A few fragrant bottles adorn the top, with a comb carved of bone and various other trinkets, all neat in placement. Stepping over to the large wardrobe, he pulls it open. Reaching out, his rough, serpentine skin feeling the fine, yet heavy, material of the dresses. Wools, silks, linens and leathers - All definitely fit for a princess.

"You needed to see me Sir?" Naomi called from the stone archway. It had taken her a few seconds to do so. She was too caught up observing the encaptured king, trying to judge his current mood. It wasn't too often the king had gotten dubbed, so she was sure he was furious. Though the longer she looked on, it was almost as if he was intrigued.

A rattle from his broad sinewy chest was her only answer before the king turned to her.

So, What did we think of the king?

Actually, What did we think of chapter two?

Lemme know your thoughts please! :)