1# The Savage Noble: Part 1 of 5
In the heart of the Savage Land, a primordial jungle teeming with life and danger, a young hunter navigates through dense foliage. His ruggedly athletic physique is accentuated by the red ritual tattoo claw stripes that run across his eyes and shoulders. Clad in a red shendyt and a brown miniature sarong, he embodies both strength and grace as he stalks his prey. His hair was wild and free, and his eyes were blue-greenish eyes.
His journey begins at dawn, when the first rays of sunlight pierce through the thick canopy above. The air is thick with humidity and the sounds of the jungle—chirping insects, distant animal calls, and rustling leaves—create an orchestra of nature that both excites and unnerves him. Today is not just any day; it is the day he must prove himself to his tribe by hunting a worthy adversary.
As he moves silently through the underbrush, he reflects on the stories told by his mother about his father—who once singlehandedly slayed a Tyrannosaurus. While he never knew his father, those tales have been etched into his memory since childhood, fueling his desire to follow in his father's footsteps. He knows that to be fully acknowledged as a warrior and hunter of his tribe, he must bring back proof of his conquest.
After hours of tracking, he finally catches sight of movement ahead. His heart races as he spots a young Tyrannosaurus—a powerful buck with glistening scales that shimmer in shades of green and brown. It stands majestically amidst ferns and towering trees, unaware of its impending fate. This creature is perfect; not only does it embody strength, but it also represents the ultimate challenge for him.
With careful precision, he crouches low to the ground, gripping his spear tightly. He recalls the teachings of his elders: patience is key when hunting such formidable prey. He takes slow breaths to steady himself, focusing on every detail—the way the dinosaur's muscles ripple beneath its skin as it moves, how its nostrils flare as it sniffs the air.
Suddenly, without warning, the Tyrannosaurus turns its head sharply in his direction. Time seems to freeze as their eyes lock for an instant; he feels an electric charge pass between them—a primal connection between predator and prey. In that moment of recognition, he knows there can be no turning back.
The young hunter springs into action. He charges forward with fierce determination, spear poised for attack. The Tyrannosaurus roars defiantly and lunges toward him with terrifying speed. The ground shakes beneath their feet as they engage in a deadly dance—the young warrior dodging its powerful jaws while seeking an opening to strike.
The battle rages on amidst towering trees and thick underbrush. The young warrior uses all his agility to evade the dinosaur's attacks while looking for opportunities to thrust his spear into its vulnerable spots. Each encounter tests not only his physical prowess but also his mental fortitude; he recalls every lesson learned from tribal elders about strategy and respect for nature.
As sweat drips down his brow and exhaustion begins to set in, Kael remembers why he embarked on this quest—to honor his father's legacy and earn respect within his tribe. With renewed vigor fueled by ancestral pride, he makes one final push against the beast.
In a climactic moment filled with tension and adrenaline, Kael finds an opening near the Tyrannosaurus's flank—a spot where scales are thinner due to age—and thrusts his spear deep into its side.
The spear pierced through tough skin but snapped in half upon impact due to the sheer force of the dinosaur's muscle beneath. A sense of dread washed over him as he realized he was now unarmed against such a colossal beast.
Desperation ignited within him; he could not back down now. As if responding to his resolve, the power surged through his body—an ability passed down from his father but rarely used in hunts. With a sharp sound reminiscent of bone slicing through air.
"SNIKT!"
Two 30-inch curved bone claws emerged from beneath his forearm skin. They gleamed ominously in the dappled sunlight filtering through leaves above. With a primal howl that echoed throughout the jungle, the young hunter charged at the Tyrannosaurus once more.
With enhanced agility, speed and reflexes that surpass those of any human or beast, the hunter easily maneuver around the beast' attacks, and striking back with unmatched ferocity. He knows that confronting such a formidable opponent requires strategy as much as strength. He can see it clearly now—the blind spots behind its massive legs and underbelly where it is most vulnerable.
In one fluid motion, he slides beneath the Tyrannosaurus just as it turns to snap at him again. As he does so, he channels his mutant powers into an ethereal form—a colossal avatar enveloped in red aura energy begins to materialize around him. This avatar mirrors his every movement; it is both an extension of himself and an independent force driven by his will.
With precision borne from countless battles fought against beasts far larger than himself, he and his avatar move as one to strike at their shared foe. The avatar's claws extend outward like twin scythes aimed directly at the Tyrannosaurus' exposed underbelly. In a swift motion that combines both grace and ferocity, they impale the dinosaur with its own curved bone claws.
The Tyrannosaurus lets out a deafening roar—a mixture of pain and fury—as it thrashes about wildly but cannot shake off this new adversary born from its own attacker's essence. Blood spills forth like crimson rain as life drains from this once-mighty predator.
With victory within reach but not yet secured, our hunter channels all his remaining energy into his avatar form. It grows larger and more imposing as if fueled by triumph itself; it lifts its arms high above its head while still holding onto its prey with unyielding strength.
Finally victorious over one of nature's fiercest creations, the hunter stands tall amidst chaos—the corpse of the Tyrannosaurus held aloft above him like a trophy won through sheer determination and skill. Blood flows down over him like war paint; it symbolizes not just conquest but survival against overwhelming odds.
He howls in triumph—a primal sound echoing through the forest—celebrating not only this victory but also affirming his place within this savage world where only the strongest endure. Once he was done—other hunters emerged from the dense foliage surrounding him, their faces painted with admiration and respect. They moved towards him with purpose, their eyes glinting with pride as they beheld the colossal creature that lay defeated at their feet. As they gathered around him, they began to chant his name in celebration.
"Erista! Erista!" they called out, their voices echoing through the trees like a primal song.
"You have done what many could not! Another Tyrannosaurus slain!" one of them praises him.
Erista felt a swell of pride at their words but also an undercurrent of dissatisfaction. He had always admired his father, known as The Wolverine—a legendary figure among their people—who had faced countless beasts without relying on his supernatural abilities. Erista had hoped to prove himself worthy by defeating this formidable predator using only his skills as a hunter.
As he lowered his arms and stepped away from the carcass, he turned to one that spoken to him. "I wanted to do it without my powers, Chakel," he confessed quietly. "I wanted to show that I could stand on my own."
Chakel placed a reassuring hand on Erista's shoulder. "You are what you are," he said firmly. "Here in the Savage Land, we do not hold back; we embrace our strengths. The law of the jungle judges those who are unworthy." His words resonated deeply within Erista's heart.
The hunting party began preparing to transport the Tyrannosaurus' body back to their village—the Tribe of Fire—where it would provide sustenance for many days and serve as a testament to their prowess as hunters. They worked together seamlessly; some began crafting ropes from vines while others cleared a path through the underbrush.
As they secured ropes around the massive limbs of the dinosaur, Erista found himself reflecting on Chakel's words. He understood that survival in this untamed land required strength and cunning; it was not merely about personal honor but about ensuring that his tribe thrived amidst danger.
Once everything was ready, they hoisted one end of the enormous creature onto makeshift sleds fashioned from sturdy branches and leaves woven together tightly. With great effort and teamwork, they began dragging it through the dense forest toward their village.
When they finally reached their village—a collection of huts made from wood and stone nestled against an ancient mountain—the atmosphere shifted into one of celebration. The villagers gathered around eagerly awaiting news of their hunt.
Erista stood before them once more as Chakel recounted how bravely he had fought against such an immense foe while honoring traditions passed down through generations. Cheers erupted from every corner as villagers praised him for bringing home such bounty.
Among them stood Gahck—the leader of their tribe—a tall woman whose presence commanded respect. Her blue-greenish eyes sparkled like gems against her sun-kissed skin while her long black hair flowed freely down her back like cascading water. She stepped forward gracefully amidst cheers erupting from her people.
"My son!" she called out joyfully as she approached Erista with arms wide open for an embrace. "You have brought honor to our tribe once more!"
Erista felt warmth spread through him at her words; he embraced her tightly before stepping back to face everyone gathered around him—their faces illuminated by firelight reflecting pride in him.
0o0o0
The air was thick with excitement and the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat as villagers gathered to celebrate a momentous occasion—the triumphant return of Erista, a young hunter who had just slain his 30th Tyrannosaurus rex. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the festivities, illuminating faces painted with joy and pride.
Erista stood at the center of it all, surrounded by friends and family. His muscular frame glistened with sweat from the day's exertions, but his demeanor remained humble. He had brought back not just a meal for his people but also a symbol of strength and resilience. As laughter echoed around him, he felt an odd mixture of elation and unease.
Nearby, Chakel—a close friend, second father, and fellow hunter—approached Erista with admiration gleaming in his eyes. "You've done it again! Thirty Tyrannosaurs! Your skills are unmatched," he exclaimed, clapping Erista on the shoulder.
Erista shrugged modestly. "It's not just me; I owe my skills to you and everyone else who trained me when I was younger," he replied, his voice steady yet tinged with humility.
Chakel shook his head vigorously. "No! You have to understand that while we taught you techniques, it is your spirit that drives you forward. It is your father's spirit—the Wolverine—that guides your hand."
At this mention of Erista's father, Gahck—Erista's mother—looked up sharply. She had been quietly observing their conversation from her place near the fire pit where she prepared dishes for the feast. Her expression shifted from pride to concern as she noticed Erista's sudden change in posture; he seemed to shrink inwardly at the mention of his father.
"What troubles you, my son?" Gahck asked gently, her voice laced with maternal concern.
Erista took a deep breath before answering. "I think about him often… about what he did for our village during those dark times." His gaze drifted towards the flickering flames as memories washed over him like waves crashing against rocks. "He fought bravely against great beasts and saved many lives… But sometimes I wonder if he knows I exist."
Chakel stepped closer, sensing Erista's turmoil. "I keep wondering if he knows," he said firmly. "After he left us to go to the Gods, I discovered that I was carrying his child and many months had pass I gave birth to you. Whatever he knows or not know you exists, he would be proud of you today, Erista. You carry on his legacy every time you hunt for our tribe."
As they spoke, villagers began to gather around them, drawn by their conversation and eager to hear tales of bravery and heroism associated with Erista's father—the legendary Wolverine who had once protected their home from monstrous threats.
"Tell us more about him!" a child called out enthusiastically.
Encouraged by their interest, Chakel and Gahck began recounting stories passed down through generations—tales of the day when Erista's father arrived and help the village in his time of need, such as facing down colossal creatures that threatened their existence and saving Chakel and his mother from an unstoppable enemy
With each story shared around the firelight, Erista felt both pride in his heritage and sorrow for what was lost—a duality that shaped him into who he was today.
Eventually, as laughter erupted once more among villagers celebrating their feast—dancing around fires illuminated by torches made from branches wrapped in cloth soaked in animal fat—Erista found solace in knowing that while his father may be gone from this world physically, his spirit lived on through stories told under starlit skies.
And so, they feasted together—and Erista—his mind drifts beyond the familiar sights of his home, contemplating what lies beyond—the uncharted territories that beckon him like whispers in the wind. He feels an insatiable pull towards adventure, an urge to explore lands unseen and mysteries untold.
"I have seen that look before," his mother says gently, her voice laced with both affection and concern. "It was your father's look before he left us."
Erista turns to face her, determination etched on his features. "No matter what happens," he asserts firmly, "I will never leave you or this village. My place is here among my people."
Gahck's expression shifts slightly; she knows her son well. "You carry within you the same fire as your father," she replies softly yet resolutely. "He too was driven by wanderlust—a need to seek out new horizons. You're almost perfectly like him...saved for the height. One day, Erista, you will feel that call just as he did."
"And what if I don't want to leave?" he questioned his mother on the subject.
"That is up to you to find that out yourself my son." Gahck told him.
0o0o0
The sun rose over the Savage Land, casting a warm golden hue across the village of the Tribe of Fire. The remnants of last night's celebration lingered in the air, with faint echoes of laughter and music still resonating among the villagers. Erista, awoke in his tent, feeling both exhilarated and troubled. His mother, Gahck, had spoken to him about his future—a future that might lead him away from their village, just as his father had done long ago.
Erista shook off the weight of her words as he stepped outside into the bustling village. He decided to help around, hoping that engaging in daily tasks would distract him from thoughts of leaving. He joined a group gathering firewood for cooking and participated in preparing breakfast for the tribe. As he worked alongside his fellow villagers, he felt a sense of belonging and purpose.
However, amidst the camaraderie, Gahck's voice called out to him. "Erista! Come here!" Her tone was urgent yet calm. Curious and slightly apprehensive, Erista made his way to her tent.
Inside, Gahck sat cross-legged on a woven mat adorned with tribal symbols. Her expression was serious as she gestured for him to sit beside her. "I have an important task for you," she began.
Following his mother, once the two of them were alone, Gahck begins "You should know my son, we barely have any contact with any village or tribe of the Savage Land since your father left us. Yet despite our isolation from other tribes in the Savage Land, we had recently received news from Chakel who had ventured beyond our territory. He spoke of a distant village known as the Fall People, who lived several miles away and were rumored to be prosperous and friendly."
"We need to establish contact with them," Gahck continued. "It could bring great fortune to our tribe—new trade opportunities and alliances that can strengthen our people."
Erista felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of this mission. "I will go," he declared confidently. "I will make contact with the Fall People and express our goodwill."
Gahck smiled softly but warned him about the challenges ahead. "The journey will not be easy; you must be cautious and respectful when approaching them." She handed him a small token—a carved piece of wood representing their tribe's spirit—to present as a gesture of peace.
Determined to succeed in this task for his mother and tribe, Erista set out on their journey towards the Fall People's village.
Erista felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of this mission. He understood the importance of fostering relationships with other tribes in their harsh environment; it could mean access to resources that would help sustain their community.
Before setting off on his journey, Erista contemplated whether he should take some veteran members of the tribe with him for protection and guidance. However, he ultimately decided against it; he wanted to approach the Fall People alone, believing that they would judge his village based on his good intentions rather than numbers or weapons.
With determination in his heart, Erista packed some supplies—a small amount of food and water—and set out into the dense jungle surrounding their village. The sounds of wildlife filled his ears as he navigated through thick foliage and towering trees.
As he walked deeper into the jungle, Erista reflected on what he would say when he met the Fall People. He envisioned himself sharing stories about his tribe's customs and values while learning about theirs in return.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered his thoughts—a sound that echoed through the trees like a warning bell. Instinctively alert now, Erista quickened his pace toward where he believed the sound originated from.
Pushing aside branches and ducking under low-hanging vines, Erista emerged into a small clearing where he found a shocking scene: a group of Savage Land Mutates, trying to kidnap a young girl from another tribe.
Without hesitation, Erista knew he had to act quickly. Stepping out for them to see him, he yelled a warning "Leave her alone! NOW!"
The mutates heard him and notices his presence, startled for a moment. For a brief moment, there was silence; then, their aggressive postures signaled their intent to attack.
Erista's instincts kicked in. He could sense their hostility radiating off them like heat from a fire. In an instant, he made his decision: he would strike first before they could coordinate their assault. With a swift motion, two curved bone claws emerged from beneath his forearm skin—sharp and deadly weapons honed for combat.
Moving at superhuman speeds, Erista lunged forward. His claws sliced through the air with precision as he struck down four of the creatures before they even had time to react. Each movement was fluid and calculated; he danced among them like a shadow, evading their clumsy attempts to retaliate.
The remaining creatures roared in anger and confusion as they regrouped to take him down. But Erista was relentless; he made quick work of them too, using his agility and enhanced reflexes to outmaneuver their attacks. One by one, they fell before him until silence enveloped the clearing once more.
With the threat neutralized, Erista turned his attention to a young girl who had been kidnapped by these savage beings. She had striking features—a mohawk that stood defiantly atop her head—and her wide eyes reflected both fear and gratitude as she looked up at him.
"Are you all right?" Erista asked gently, kneeling beside her.
Before she could respond, a shout pierced through the stillness of the jungle: "Get away from her!"
Erista turned sharply to see a young man emerging from behind a massive tree trunk—a Savage Lander who appeared several years older than him. The man's expression was fierce; his body language radiated protectiveness over the girl.
"I'm not here to hurt her," Erista began to explain quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
But before he could finish his sentence, something extraordinary happened—the Savage Lander's skin began to shift and ripple as if it were made of steel or something. In an instant, one of his hands transformed into a large blade glinting menacingly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.
Without warning, he lunged at Erista with blinding speed.
Writer's Note: I do own any traits or elements from Marvel Comics, but I am a fan of Wolverine and the X-men. I figure Marvel is taking their sweet time with one of Wolverine's Forgotten Son, Erista, who made debut in Wolverine: The Jungle Adventure, from December 1989.
The biggest controversy to come out of this comic is the name of the baby Gahck is holding at the end of this issue. Neither the name nor the gender of the child was revealed in this issue. When "The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe – X-Men 2004" was released, under Wolverine's entry it states that he had a son named Erista. This name has not been confirmed in any comic anywhere (besides Handbooks) and "Erista" has not been seen since.
Check Erista the Savage Noble by Kaddsonin on DeviantArt