The Gallows’ Call: Fall of the Cannibal King

[Sasuke Uchiha]

[spoiler]

Takes place right after 'The Path To New Babylon'. For Deathchew's backstory, click here.

[/spoiler]

An indiscernible blur of cobalt streaked across the dunes, covering several miles in mere moments, until finally, the blur halted, and the youthful form of Sasuke Uchiha took its place. He wasn't sure how far off the mining community that had been raided by Baron Deathchew was, but he had to closer now.The shinobi raised a hand to shield his eyes from the vicious bite of the mid-day sun, and peered across the terrain he had yet to travel.

Daunting and hypnotizing, the blazing heat from the sun’s scorching rays above were but beautiful brush strokes of red and orange that careened across an azure sky. A beauty lost on the inhabitants of the verse, forced to live under the sovereignty of the harshest and most paramount law of the realm: survival.

Scorpions scurried, snakes hissed and slithered, and vultures stalked from above while they all endured the grisly business of desert life in the dunes.

Sunburnt, Sasuke’s skin felt the prickle of a million needles, followed by what felt like a scraping against his flesh with sandpaper. Parched, his mouth was so dry that his tongue had become immovable against the roof of his mouth, and even with the literal ability to create water, a feat all Primes shared, it did nothing to quench his unyielding thirst.

How long had he been at this? He felt as though he had only just left his comrades at the Nippur city gates, but that couldn’t be…

The shinobi turned back to see that the Kingdom of Nippur had indeed, long since been swallowed up by the desert. Time, the desert, or both… were playing games on him. Absent of Nippur in the distance, the horizon was instead lined with great spires of weather-worn stone that fell away into deep, entrenched canyons.

It was a crucible of death, a bone-dry basin of vast and endless ochre. Oceans upon oceans of shifting sands threatened to swallow whole any who traversed their dunes too long.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, he needed to go right through the heart of it. But not at mid-day. Not when the sun was at its peak temperature. No, he’d likely find himself reborn at the Fountain of Eternity if he allowed himself to be so foolish. Prime or not, you just didn’t travel the hazardously, hot Dunes during the noon hour. He needed to find shelter and to wait out the heat, for he had no desire to reunite with Arnold Hammond, or any storm trooper for that matter.

“This heat is unreal.” the youth muttered as he trudged upwards against a bank of sand, and once he had conquered the hill, he was allowed a panoramic view that gave him the vantage he needed. For some distance off there was what appeared to be an abandoned way station, equipped with fueling pumps, a mechanic’s garage, and even a billboard that read, “Rick's Cafe Americain. Come for the steak, stay for the drinks, because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad!”

Sweat glistened off the ninja’s brow, as his dry and cracked lips parted into a smile, “Home, sweet home.”

After some time trudging through many kilometers of wasteland, he had traversed the distance necessary, and arrived at his destination. Problem was, he wasn’t alone.

A woman garbed in dirty and torn garments that revealed an overtly, full figured, feminine form lay sprawled out next to a broken down Volkswagen, under shade of the way station. As the youth approached her, she stirred, “Hello….?” and once closer to her, she looked up at him from her seated position on the ground. Her tangled and filthy hair lay a strew against her nearly exposed bosom. She had a pleasant face that was surprisingly appealing, even attractive, underneath the grime that coated her features.

“Hello…” she repeated with a hesitant drawl, withdrew from Sasuke, and pleaded, “Please, don’t hurt me.”

Sasuke’s blank facial expression waned, revealing a visage colored with empathy.

“Here, take anything you want.” her timid voice croaked from dehydration as her eyes burned a hole in the sand just under her bare feet. Sasuke studied her in silence.

“There’s no water… You want some food?” she groaned, her cracked lips barely able to form the words. “Take it! Just, please, don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” he reassured her without eye contact, his eyes still surveying the way station instead.

“Yea? That’s what the last guy said.” her tone had changed, almost hostile, and it was followed with a maddening cackle that sent a shiver down Sasuke’s spine.

“Could you help me?” the woman asked as she expectantly looked up at Sasuke with her big doe eyes, and pointed to the bucket of bolts next to her, “The wheel fell off. It’s got gas, but I can’t fix it.”

“Maybe if I could… If I could… but I can’t. I bet you could though. You look capable. Why don’t you fix us up and we can both get out of here?” the woman coed as she leaned forward, revealing a vantage to Sasuke that exposed the rest of her breasts. She twirled a finger through a tangled lock of dirty hair as she continued, “Maybe show a girl a good time? Come on sugar. Let’s have some fun.”

She winked and Sasuke chuckled.

“You know the thing good about not having any water?" the Dante’s Abyss Champion blurted out suddenly, and in a much louder octane, "It means no showers…. It means you can smell thieves and bandits from miles away!” by the end of it he was shouting.

And like that, a gang of five, shady looking thugs abandoned their concealment and stepped out from behind Rick’s Café’s billboard.

“I am impressed,” one of them spoke up, distinguishing himself apart from the rest, “this man smelled us from 30 feet away!”

His gang shared in a moment’s laughter before he silenced them with a wave of his hand, “Now, what’s that say about our hygiene, boys?”

Roaring hoots and hollering erupted from the group of vandals, almost as if the filthy were proud they reeked.

“So, it’s safe to assume this is your doing?” as the ninja spoke he directed his attention to the voluptuous vagabond, who in turn, answered with her tongue flapping, licking, and slurping at the space between her to cloven fingers.

Sasuke smirked, “Maybe another time.”

The woman practically undressed Sasuke with her eyes, “Just name the time and place, handsome—”
“Shut the fuck up, wench.” spat the lead highwayman as he raised a hand to her, and in true dirt-bag fashion, laughed when she flinched. He then turned to face the raven haired youth, “And you! Hand over any valuables without any fuss and maybe we’ll let you live. Start with that bag you have over your shoulder there.”

Sasuke just stood silently.

Aggravated, the thug closed the distance between them, “Are you fuckin’ deaf? What’ve you got there in that pack?”

Sasuke smirked and muttered something only audible to himself, “Oh, ya know, just an essence of Omni and two dragon eggs. Basically, your ass in a handbasket. No biggie.”

“What’s that? Speak up, I can’t hear you, you little shit.”

“What pack?” Sasuke questioned.

“Don’t play stupid with me, boy!” the lead thug snarled, clearly growing impatient, “Open the pack and tip it out on the road, nice and slow.”

The shinobi looked the bandit square in the eye, appraising the man’s reaction. He didn’t seem pleased, but Sasuke cared not. Shaking his head, the Uchiha spoke with an eerie calm in his voice, “Can’t do that”

“Take off the FUCKING pack and put it on the ground... Or DIE” the head bandit shouted behind a reddened visage.

The shinobi simply shook his head.

The vandal had had enough and decided to get physical, shoving Sasuke as he shouted, “Are fucking you listening to me?”

"I am now.” Sasuke sneered in contempt.

“Good.” The thug chuckled, his body language loud and bold, full of confidence.

“You listening to me?” asked the ninja with the stillness still ever present in his voice.

Surprised, but not shaken, the bandit responded with, “Tch, yea?” followed by laughter and a look to his men for reassurance.

“Good.” Sasuke smiled before continuing, “Put that hand on me again and you won’t get it back.”

Laughter erupted from the man as he turned to his lackeys, “Do you believe this fucking guy?!” He shook his head and removed a blade concealed within his garments, “Alright, if you want to do it the hard way. We can do that!”

With a firm grip on his blade in one hand, the bandit grabbed ahold of Sasuke’s collar with the other, however, instantly, blood splattered both their faces and the bandit became a cripple, as promised. His gang, wide eyed and speechless, watched on in horror as the swift sword of Kusanagi returned to its sheath before the bloody appendage had even hit the ground.

“AHHHHHH!” the woman screamed and ran for cover.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” the bandit swore as he held onto his now, bloody stump for a hand.

“I warned you.”

“Fuck you!” the bandit cried, “You just fucked up... We're apart of Sledge's gang. You are so fucked! Get 'em boys, KILL HIM!!”

With a wild smile upon his visage, Sasuke took a step back and prepared himself for the oncoming onslaught. Home sweet, home.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

“Welcome to your new life.”

These were the first words uttered to the surviving men of Stoneford Mine. They’d spent a fortnight chained, shackled, and deprived of both a good meal and a good night’s rest, but that was just the what. The why, well, the why was deeply more saddening, almost maddening. Their hunger was self-inflicted. The cause? Their refusal to eat their own brothers in arms.

Twelve times a day, light would disrupt their otherwise infinite sea of darkness, followed by a man who would then choose one from the many prisoners, and bring them to the center for all to see. This prisoner would be given the opportunity to select between two separate options. He could either be eaten alive by his savage captors, or he could select a different prisoner to take his place. It went on like this for days and soon, no one trusted each other. Tensions were high among the captive. Brothers, fathers, and loved ones, who had known each other all their lives, were now at each other’s throats.

That’s when the game changed. It took a turn for the worst and a new rule was implemented. In order to trade places… you had to do the eating. On that day, many men lost something far more valuable than their lives and when the game was finally over, their numbers were halved, and these were the men who had won.

“People once thought this a holy land.” Baron Deathchew’s drawl hung in the air as he addressed his captive, “They believed they could reach Valhalla here. Find the answers, from a god, that would save them…”

His voice commanded respect and his posture was strong. There wasn’t a stray eye among them. He spoke and they listened. Mesmerized, the captured miners hung on his every word. A wicked grin appeared on the Baron’s face as he continued, “But they were wrong. Gentlemen, there is no god in the Endless Dunes.”

He was on the move now, strolling through their numbers as he spoke. Within reach of his captive, he was fearless, and why not? Whatever left in these men not dead, was tainted. How could they face their loved ones back home? How could any of them? After what they had done? Even if there was a fight left in them, there wasn’t anything left for them to fight for. They couldn’t go home. Not now.

“How do I know?” he questioned as his eyes surveyed the group of prisoners. Eyes like a hawk, they found a way to bore into you, as if appraising you of your worth. He turned his back on them, throwing caution to the wind. Former enemies, people whose families he had butchered, and he gave them his back as he spoke, “A God does not feed you or clothe you… or protect you. I do”

The opportunity was ripe, lush with the temptation of revenge, and far too appealing for the nearest prisoner to avoid. The prisoner sprang at Deathchew, attempting to bash his skull in with a rock he’d hidden for just this moment.

However, the rock hit the sand and the assault ended as quickly as it had started. Deathchew had intercepted the miner’s assault, countering by a strike to his throat with snake like precession, and lifted the miner several feet off the ground.

Deathchew spat and tightened his grip on the miner’s throat, “I do now. As of right now, you lot are only alive because I will it so.”

The baron’s head tilted to the side, watching the prisoner squirm in his grasp. Tighter and tighter Deathchew squeezed until finally, his pigment turned from a bright shade of red to a deep tent of violet.

He released the miner and allowed his limp, lifeless body to hit the sand before continuing his speech, “You men have been born again as soldiers in the united army of Baron Deathchew, but I will not tolerate weakness.”

“Your allegiance is to the clan.” he said, studying his audience with a curious, yet devious eye. “Any clansman may challenge for leadership of the clan. Does any man here wish to challenge me?” Not a soul made a sound. Deathchew grinned a wicked smile, their silence was their answer.

Strolling through their numbers once more, the savage king spoke with a perfect annunciation, worthy of any public forum, “The strong have been fooled by the whimpering propaganda of the weak, misguided and led astray by deceit and deception. Strong men have been denied their destiny.”

“You men have been saved from that fate.” he declared with booming assurance, “Redemption is within your grasp. Survival of the fittest, gentlemen, that is the legacy that has been handed down to us.”

Men under his banner were now surrounding the baron and their numbers were stifling. This was no rag tag group of barbarians, for he commanded a large host, a legion of ferocious, cannibalistic warriors.

Pride reflected upon the baron’s face as he took in the prisoner’s reactions to his armies, “Strength, force, and power! These are the laws that we live by. It is through these laws, through me, your Baron, that you may achieve a power far greater than any Prime you have ever known.”

The prisoners began to look and talk amongst themselves in hushed voices, but it was clear what was happening, their resolve was weakening and their resistance beginning to sway. He was appealing to their self-interest, giving them a flame to kindle against their darkness.

“Strength is our cloak, and you men will wear it with pride.” he commanded, allowing his eyes a few moments of contact with each prisoner individually.

“Become warriors and we will bring these false kings and civilizations to their knees.” his savage army roared in response to his exclamation with raised fists, “We will take back what is rightfully ours and destroy the institutions that have wrought all good things—honor, treasure, beautiful women— no longer will they be made accessible to the rabble, the cowards and the sheep!”

Every cannibal in attendance, and even a few prisoners, erupted with cheer at his last comment. Rallied and invigorated, admiration could be seen among many a sadistic face, and it was becoming apparent that the baron’s silver tongue was as valuable as his steel.

“Most of you are secondaries. Subjugated to a life of servitude to these Primes, but I am offering you a different path. A different life.” he cooed as he continued to inspire, “When men… stick together under this banner, and follow a set of rules, a code, well, then the world becomes theirs.”

“The strongest among you will have the opportunity to train as one of my lieutenants. Some see outlaws as cold heartless killers, but the men that fill my ranks are more than that.” the malevolent tyrant placed his hand across his heart, projecting compassion with his words. An award winning performance to say the least, “They are my brothers, and once you are accepted into our family, there is no other.”

“Now, I am not asking you to be celibate…” as he spoke he shared a mischievous smile that was soon replicated by his fellow cannibals, “You can fuck whoever you want, but here, a bandit’s loyalty is to his baron. Baron Deathchew!”

“That is the first rule of our code. In return you get the best of everything. Booze, weapons, Omnilium… Women.” He left no stone unturned, making it abruptly clear what kind of operation he ran here, but that didn’t seem to bother the prisoners anymore. Most were actually eating it up and ready to pledge allegiance. What hell they most have endured to have completely abandoned their humanity.

“Come here Giles,” Deathchew ordered to one of his lieutenants, “and remove the vest.” The man was scarred, head to toe, with self-inflicted tally marks. “Quite a sight isn’t it?”

“Each scar represents a life.” He told them, “A life that Giles has taken, without remorse, without regret, because he kills for one reason and one reason only. What reason is that Giles?”

“To protect your interest, Baron.”

“To protect my interest.” he repeated as he circled Giles, showing him off like a prized possession, “That’s right. No one in my army is more feared or more respected. Hundreds of men have lost their lives to this man, surrendered their treasures and their women as well. He has walked the path before you. He is what the best of you will aspire to become.”

“But this man standing here is a far cry from the miserable whelp I laid eyes on all those years ago.” the Baron snapped suddenly, catching the prisoners off guard.

“No strength, no name. I figured if the Dunes hadn’t killed him, there must be a fire within him.” the very way he spoke was a performance. If nothing else, he knew how to work a room, “So I took him in and ignited that fire…. Forged him into the man you see today.”

Eyes wide as canyons followed both Giles and the Baron, captivated by Deathchew’s words and eager to swallow these larger than life aspirations.

“Maybe the man who follows in his footsteps is in this room? Is it you, is it you? Or you?” all of a sudden, he had what they wanted, like he and his men were in on a secret no one else knew about, but offered it for the small price of your undying loyalty.

“You will get out of this army what you put into it. Work and you will be feed. Fight and you will be respected. Die and you will be remembered! Now, do you want to be a part of my family?”

It was unanimous, they all chanted, “YES BARON!!!”

“Do you want the best of everything?”

“YES BARON!!!” again they pleaded.

Deathchew grinned. His host was growing and the golden lion’s throne was one step closer to becoming his. And after? The rest of the Endless Dunes. “Do you want to KILL in my name?”

“YES BARON!!!” they roared, willing to do more than just kill.

With three words he issued a challenge and sealed their fate, “Then prove it!”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

The clanging clamor of two swords clashing thundered, sparks from a furry of steel on steel assailed the Uchiha’s vision, and the scent of blood drenched the air. The bandits he fought were crazed, ravenous savages; strong and fierce, but sloppy and unorthodox. With fluid and precise movements, the ninja kept them at bay, deflecting blow after blow from his multiple adversaries. He concentrated on his guile and agility, repelling and redirecting his opponent’s advances.

“What’s the matter?” the youth quipped from behind crimson pupils and a confident smirk, allowing his muscles to settle into the rhythm of combat by the sword. “Can’t the four of you avenge your friend?”

“Fuckerou talkin’ bout?!” a brute with fire for a Mohawk spat as he cleaved his way through with a battle axe and little regard for anyone’s safety. Even his own allies were cautious to avoid his path, as he made like a bulldozer and roared, “You’sa god damned deadman!!!”

A combination of powerful swings from his axe put the ninja on the evasive. Nimble acrobatics allowed the Sasuke to avoid the brute’s strikes for a time, until one came frightening close, just above Sasuke’s brow, splitting a drop of sweat. One misstep, one slight mistake, and he’d be bathed in a white canvas full of storm troopers all over again. No, not to this scum, not on this day, and not before the sweet taste of vengeance flavored his tongue. Sasuke would not die here; he refused.

Furiously, the Sharingan he possessed gyrated, studying, calculating, and predicting his opponent’s every movement. Nothing veiled itself from his eyes. Nothing was safe from his Kekkei Genkai.

One of the hijackers, fitted in a fetish leather, a gas mask, and equipped with a chainsaw, barreled into the ninja without concern for his own life. The roar of the rotating blades howled as steel severed flesh, blood, and bone all at once. The champion’s limp body hit the sand with a thud, and the thugs took a moment to admire their handy work. Jagged, rusty, and sharp rotary blades protruded from the young ninja’s chest.

The biggest of them who wore the Mohawk slapped a hand to the back of the gas mask wearing bandit, “Thought he’d never shut his yap. Ya dun good. Dun know how he got ta drop on Sleemey. He weren’t shit. Fuckin’ punk.”

“Yea, good going Copper Lung. Fuckin’ opened his cage. What’s he got on him? We come up?” a smaller runt with a hatchet leered at Sasuke’s lifeless body as he asked.

“Shut up Rodent,” Mohawk sneered, “you know you dun get dibbs. Ya gon get the left overs, or ya gon get dead right quick.” He then addressed one of them whose weapon of choice appeared to be a hammer and wrench, “Mechanic, check his pockets and get that bag Sleemey lost a hand for. Fuck! Sleemey! Someone check on dat git.”

“Uhh, Barrick,” Rodent squeaked nervously, the hatchet tightly held in his sweaty palms, “the loots gone.”

“What?!” Barrick alarmed, quickly turning around to see that not only was Sasuke’s pack missing, but Sasuke along with it. In his place only a single, three by two and a half foot long log of wood.

Barrick lugged his giant body around, wielding his massive axe, “Where are ya, ya fuckin’ git! I’ll fuckin’ slice ya balls off this time.”, but as he came to a stop, both Mechanic and Copper Lung were falling to the sands. The sword of Kusanagi was colored in crimson, ripe with its latest victims.

Barrick’s entire body reddened with anger, so much, in fact, even his Mohawk appeared more prominent. “I’ll CRUSH YAR PUNK ASS” Barrick erupted brandishing his deathly axe and advancing on the young champion, however Sasuke’s Sharingan had already seen the opening he needed. The ninja smirked, crouched low, and drove the tip of his sword into bandit’s ribcage just under his latest arcing swing.

Barrick dropped to a knee, gasping in pain. Sasuke, with lightning speed and precision, snapped his arm outward, catching the oaf by his throat and pulled him to his feet.

He was shocked and horrified to realize he would lose this fight. The ninja was half his size, he was surely far more powerful, but here he was, dying. It just wasn’t possible… And yet the sword protruding from his chest said it was. He died in disbelief and with Sasuke’s fiery red eyes peering into his own.

A bolt of awareness shot through Sasuke’s conscious. Rodent was on him, his hatchet inches from actually severing Sasuke’s head. The ninja jerked from harm’s way in a flash, coming away with no more than a paper cut. He grinned and thought of how truly grateful he was for his training with Kakashi Sensei, and the speed he had wrought from his time with him.

Sword to his ready, the ninja sighted on the small bandit’s eye and plunged the blade into its wet, mushy flesh. Blood squirted out of the optical wound, and the bandit hollered and hollered, and hollered… until life escaped him and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

As the ninja swooped up his pack he noticed, once more, the billboard advertising Rick’s café. With that he started his trek through desert, leaving behind him four less highwaymen to worry about and one bleeding out.

“Wait!” the woman shouted as she came scurrying out from her hiding, “Can I come with you?”

“No.”

“But the car! Come on!”

Sasuke just kept walking.

[Eon Saverem]

Pete's fellow clansmen (Last Chapter) carried him through the Dunes. It wasn't as if they were medics by any means but they did tend to his wounds. They tied rags around his wounds, those inflicted by the Prime and themselves, and then wrapped him in a tarp and slung him over one of their horses. They gave him water and some meat, and as he replenished his strength the pain of his wounds began to surge through his body. He had been on the verge of death and he was not only dehydrated but in shock when the others had stumbled across him, he hadn't felt the amount of pain his body had been in. It was excruciating...

Quite a bit of time passed on their journey back. The men chatted among themselves, while Pete fell in and out of consciousness.

"What the hell you think happened to Pete?" One said.

"I don't know... maybe the Empire finally caught up to him and Ray for deserting." said the other.

"Speaking of which... shit... where is Ray? And didn't he have the new kid Manny with him?" another from the rear spoke up.

"The Baron let Gulten and Zigfree go with him too right? Pete and those two are some of the toughest guys we got. What the fuck happened to em?" The men speculated back and forth, Pete only picking up bits and pieces of it.

Soon the men had reached their destination. The sound of many others filled Pete's ears, sounds of fighting and gnashing of teeth, the sounds of his clansmen.

"You... must take me to the Baron... immediately." He was able to get out in short breaths. The men unwrapped him and helped him stagger towards the hall to gain audience with Baron Deathchew. As they entered the hall, a chill came over them.

A scrawny, bearded man approached and looking at each of their faces, hovering over Pete's the longest. "What do you all want? And who is that? Dinner should be finished at the table or left on the floor for the dogs as scraps..."

The man who'd found Pete and recognized him spoke, "This is Pete, he's one of our toughest in the clan. He comes with a message for Baron Deathchew." The man wore a long brown leather coat, with longer black hair pulled back. "I found him, the names Tegan"

The Baron's scrawny advisor rolled his eyes, "He's clearly not one of the toughest if he's in that bad of a condition. As for the Baron, he's not taking any audiences. We had an incident earlier and he's really not in the mood. Leave now." He turned and began walking away.

Pete pushed himself off of Tegan, shambling forward, the advisor turned to halt his advance but Pete yelled out, "The King of Nippur has returned!" Shock and awe shot across all of the men's faces that were surrounding the display. Silence befell the room and once more a chill came across the hall, then strong foot steps came from the end of it.

"What?" The voice was stern and calm, no sound of alarm whatsoever. It was the voice of Baron Deathchew. Tegan, the advisor and the other men around Pete quickly dispersed creating distance between them.

"M... mm... mmy eyes... my friend... my men... we were attacked and defeated by The King of.." before he could finish the Baron's large hand gripped Pete's throat and pulled him to the Baron's face, an inch apart.

"King of what!? Do you speak of the FALSE King!? For there is only One King your feeble mind should recognize. Am I mistaken, PT-313? Or Pete as you call yourself now..." The Baron gripped slightly tighter, the others winced as if they were about to witness a grape pop.

Struggling to speak Pete coughed out, "Apologies! You're my King!"

"When you deserted your EMPEROR and sought refuge... Who took you in!?" The Baron yelled.

"You my King!" Still struggling.

"Who protected you from your pursuers? Who clothed you? Who should you the way to feed upon the weak? Who made you strong? Who guided you!?" The Baron loosening his grip slowly.

"You Baron Deathchew!" Pete fell to the ground, on his hands and knees coughing up blood. The Baron turned around and crossed his hands behind his back.

"Good. I'm glad you remember that much. So you say the False King... Gilgamesh... still walks the Dunes. I was informed he had been banished by the conjoined forces of the robot boy, Protoman and the mouse warrior Mickey..."

"He told me... 'That the true King of the Dunes had returned and that there was no chains in Hell that could hold him'... or so he said to me." Pete winced as if to feel a blow come from the Baron. Instead he heard a snicker come from the Baron.

"That so? Fine... tell me PT-313. When you said he took your men, you didn't by chance mean Gulten and Zigfree did you?" The Baron asked curiously, turning his head over his shoulder.

Pete hesitated to answer, "... My King, when we ambushed him we had no idea who he really was... Gulten and Zigfree almost had him but... he killed them both..." He lowered his head apologetically.

"Hmm..." The Baron rubbed his chin, turning and leaning over to place his hand under Pete's chin to raise it slightly. "He took your eyes to send you back to me blind... but when you left here you had them... which leads me to believe that you were not blind prior to your departure. Which would mean that you clearly could see that Gulten... Zigfree... the other two and even YOU are MY MEN." Pete tried to utter something but the Baron quickly cut him off. "Shh, shh, shhhhh... Gulten, Zigfree and yourself were three of my strongest and most promising men. I allowed three leaders of this clan to venture off together, at the request of... who was it? Oh, that's right. You... PT-313."

"B...b...Baron... I'm so sorry..." A sniffle came from the nose of Pete. The Baron furrowed his brow, cocking his head slightly as if to get a better listen to Pete.

"Am I mistaken or... are you crying? I just find it hard to tell, seeing as though you have no eyes. But I could have sworn you let out a whimper." The Baron stood straight up.

"Save me... spare me... Baron... my King... as you once had..." Pete reached out his hand in offering.

The Baron nodded, "Of course... PETE... I'll tell you what. If you kiss my boot, I will forgive you. Show me that your lack of eyes has not blinded you from the radiance that is your gracious and powerful leader. Do this and I will SAVE you." Pete shook as he stretched out his neck, lips pursed, praying with all of his being that he would land on the Baron's foot. As he did this though, the Baron raised his leg bringing his knee nearly to his chest and a second before Pete's lips touched the ground where the Baron's boot had been... Deathchew drove his heel into the back of Pete's skull and smashed through it leaving even a small crater in the ground. Pete's body flailed for only a moment until it lay lifeless. "Clean up this mess the way a true Clansman would." Gesturing to the men in the hall, at which point they all began hording over Pete and tearing into his carcass. "Tegan was it?" Tegan stood straight and nodded almost saluting. "Take some of MY men and find anyone who knows anything about the return of the FALSE KING." Tegan nodded and ran out of the hall. The Baron clenched his fists, "I will feast on the flesh of Gods."

[Eon Saverem]

The sound of flesh being torn  and bones cracking faded as Tegan made his way to his tent. Baron Deathchew was so intense, the power he held was crazy. Tegan wanted power like that, he wanted that power and he'd follow the Baron until he got it.

Tegan, age 24, stood about 6'1", an athletic masculine build, shoulder length greasy black hair, scar over his right eye (which was white, as if blind) down to his jaw. As rough as he looked there was still a refined quality about him, one would say it was his posture or the way he walked. Tegan's tent was of moderate size, a large bedroll and chest, enough room to lye with as many as ten women and still have room. Though he rarely made time for such an endeavor, Tegan was obsessed with the Baron. Ever since he'd been drug into the camp with the caravan he'd been with.

The caravan was made up of thirty or more Secondaries. They had all been refugees from the great battle in Nippur. Many of their homes were burnt to the ground from the battle between their "King" Gilgamesh and ProtoMouse. Or so Tegan had been told, he had joined the caravan after the event. The people were pitifully hopeless, Tegan almost felt bad. They had put so much faith in their King and watched as their homes were destroyed in the battle, which had ended with the Banishment of their "All Powerful King". It was their own fault for not being any stronger, had they not put so much faith into one savior they could have fought back and helped protect their kingdom. This was a problem Tegan saw in many Kingdoms... his own in particular... it was the reason he left... well, forced to leave would be more accurate. It was frowned upon to try and rally the people in order to remove the current King and his weak subjects from their position and replace them with a stronger one. Tegan didn't hold any resentment for being thwarted and forced to escaped to a place as loathsome as the Endless Dunes, after all he wasn't strong enough to accomplish his plan. He hated himself, hated his weakness. He trudged through the Dunes as pitiful as the caravan he'd been adopted by. Then one night their came screams. He awoke to see the Caravan being attacked by unknown assailants. They moved like beasts, he watched as a woman next to him was grabbed by a raider. Tegan watched in both horror and awe as the man opened his mouth and bit down on the woman's neck, tearing into her and ripping the flesh from her body. He had to regain his barrings, for a moment he thought he was in the Pale Moors and the Undead Demons that roamed those forgotten dead lands were the monsters devouring the caravan before his eyes. Then one of the attackers yelled out pointing at Tegan, "That one. Devour him!" before he knew it two men attacked. A quick right hand dropped the first, as he grabbed the second by the throat and crotch and using his momentum, threw him over his head and into the ground. "Subdue him! He and the rest go to the Baron!" The man yelled. Hard as he tried, Tegan was eventually over run by their numbers. He and about half the caravan were captured and drug back to the Cannibal Raiders camp. It was their that he first saw Baron Deathchew, saw his power. He told him the power that could be gained through devouring others. He made the remaining caravan survivors fight one another to the death, friends and family... sons versus fathers, daughters versus mothers... It became all to easy for Tegan to kill and devour the others though, he hadn't had too much time with them and in the end it was the right thing to do. By the end he was bloody and gnawing on the remains of kill. The Baron looked proud of his accomplishment and promised him if he were to follow him, he'd gain more power than he'd ever dream of. Tegan had found his King and his fellow people.

It was a shame to see Pete go, but so was the choice he made when he showed his weakness. Tegan was more interested in what he had said about Gilgamesh not being dead. If Tegan could find and capture the False King, the Baron might allow him to join in the feast and in doing so gain the power of a mighty Prime. Tegan put on his boots and dawned his old armor, which he had burned charcoal black in order to cover his old Sigil. His sword and pistol on his hip, he left the tent. It was time to pick his crew, the crew that would find the Lost King of Nippur and drag him back to Baron Deathchew.

[Eon Saverem]

As Tegan made his way out of hist tent with his gear, he scanned over the entire encampment. He needed to find some men to take with him. Unlike Pete, however, he would not not be seeking the assistance of those the Baron thought to be his strongest subjects. If it came to fruition that the King of Nippur, Gilgamesh, did in fact escape Banishment... somehow... then he would have a tough fish to catch. Gilgamesh is or was considered one of the most powerful Primes within the Omniverse. He'd need expendable men, but none so expendable that they brought nothing to the team he was assembling.

As he surveyed his potential candidates, it became clear that many were new bloods. If it was fresh meat he was going to take, he might as well take the whole lot of them. Like throwing moths to a flame to try and extinguish it, only that flame is actually a flamethrower. Then the sound of an argument began to rise throughout the encampment.

"I didn't steal nuffin from you!" Yelled out one of the voices. Tegan started to make his way over to the ruckus.

"I can smell the blood on your lips, its fresh. You ain't my meal..." As Tegan pushed his way through the crowd that formed, he made it to the center where he saw the two men. One was an older looking man, he was holding a knife and extremely tense. The other was an alien, bluish purple skin and what looked like antenna protruding from his cheeks. Tegan had gotten used to all the alien species in the Omniverse, he'd seen this one in the camp before. You stand out when most of the Omniverse is made up of humanoid beings. The alien seemed calm, but the look within his eyes showed his patience was running thin with the man holding the knife. In the time he'd been here, Tegan had never seen the alien creature lose its composure. Always composed, never spoke unless spoken too. He kept to himself, it was the main reason Tegan didn't know much of anything about him.

"Listen here freak... I didn't take your kill. So take your scaly lizard ass back to your tent and think of someone else who mighta done it... or I'll make sure you smell fresh blood." The man clenched the knife tight in his grasp.

"Last chance... give me what you've got or else... I'll tell the Baron myself that I not only confronted you, but warned you, and tried to compromise with you..." The alien whore some type of device over his eye, he reached up and pressed the side of it. Flashes of symbols and sounds of beeping began coming from the device. Tegan and the Alien made eye contact for a brief moment and for a moment the alien looked slightly concerned but then diverted his attention back to the man in front of him. The man with the knife began to panic slightly, then the device stopped and the alien smirked.

The man lunged forward bring the knife around in a wide arc towards the alien, "I warned ya, you fucking Frea...!" before he finished the alien had caught the man by the forearm, and drove an uppercut into the man's gut, dropping the knife. Causing him to keel over. The alien sneered at the man, contemplating if he should finish him off, then thought the better of it. He turned to walk away, when suddenly the man on the ground grabbed the knife again and struck quick at the back of the alien. With great speed the spun around and kicked the knife out of the man's hand and up into the air. With one arm he grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him up off the ground. He raised his other hand, fingers spread wide apart, in front of the man's face. A glow began to emit from his palm, then a visible orb of light appeared. The man's eyes widened in fear as the alien shot the sphere of energy from his hand into the man's face. The body fell limp to the ground, face smoldering.

"...YAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" The crowd erupted in a cheer. This was their form of entertainment. Members of the tribe began exiting the area, slapping the alien on the back and talking to one another about the tussle. The alien reached over and picked up the corpse and tossed it over towards his tent.

Tegan walked up to the alien's tent, "Pretty impressive." As he said this the alien stood tall looking Tegan in the eyes.

"He was one of the newest members. His power was about as much as a sheep herder's... you would have done much better against him." The alien said pointing at the device on his eye. "This picked you out of the entire crowd."

"Is that so?" Brushing his hair from his face, "The name is Tegan." He reached out his arm. The alien looked down at it, then reached out his own hand and shook it.

"The name is Plum." The alien said, then folded his arms across his chest.

"I've come with a proposition for you Plum. How would you like to come on a mission with me? It is one given to me by Baron Deathchew himself. If we succeed we will surely become part of his Elite Warriors." The look of excitement in Tegan's eyes seemed to infect Plum's as well.

"Elite... you say... I've always liked the sound of that... what kind of a mission?" Plum actually seemed to tense up in anticipation. Very unlike his usual self. He couldn't taken his eyes off Tegan.  

Tegan leaned in close, his eyes wide, "A mission to capture and devour a King"

[Eon Saverem]

Tegan and Plum had started walking through the encampment, looking for potential recruits and talking. Tegan was happy with his first choice, Plum was a physical fighter with range capability. The alien nature alone would allow him to catch many primes off guard. A veteran of the Omniverse knows to treat every encounter as an alien encounter, your opponent could morph into a dragon or fire a barrage of missiles at you. It was a simple bonus to start the battle off looking like a real threat. Plum wouldn't be enough though, he was nearly the same type of fighter as Tegan. They were going to need an array of ability in order to capture and bring back a Prime like Gilgamesh.

"So what's your story Plum? Where are you from?" Tegan was interested in learning more about his allies, in case they ever became foes of course.

"Well, before joining the Baron I lived in Coruscant. Before you ask, yes I was with the Empire. The life of an Empirical soldier seemed like the way to go. Then they made me walk the streets of the sixth and seventh tier... those slums... even for a soldier of the Empire it was almost impossible to make a good living. I eventually started dealing with the criminals in order to make ends-meat. Weapon and Drug running. One day I was finishing a deal with some providers and you'd never guess who walks down the dark alley..." Plum put both his hands on his head.

"Who?" Tegan asked softly.

"The fucking Judge himself. Dredd... in the fucking flesh. I swear on Omni. I panic and think of the only option I've got. I blow the clients away. Tell the Judge that I caught them trying to run drugs up to the sixth tier... The Judge points his finger at me and says 'Keep up the good work down here' and then walks away. I shit you not... and I'm sitting there with two dead employers, who were working down the chain of one of the baddest crime bosses Coruscant. My street cred is ruined and if I stayed I'd be a dead man, and if the Empire found out about my affiliations with the syndicate I'd be vaporized. So I went rogue. dashed into the desert and eventually got picked up by the Baron. All I want is to get stronger and one day stick it to the Empire. They made me do what I did. Pieces of garbage, all of them." Plume slammed his fist into his opened hand.

"I know the feeling of hating the ruler you serve under. Believe it or not we were enemies at one point. If not for the Baron we might have crossed paths and slain one another." Tegan nodded to Plum. "Where are you from before the Omniverse?"

"Defacto from the Kingdom huh? Not too surprise with your power, you must have been higher up in the chain." Plum snickered at Tegan, "Before the Omniverse though, huh? That was so long ago, it feels like an old dream. Life there wasn't much better though. Had to worry about being killed by your all powerful leader if he was having a bad day or Zarbon didn't massage his tail in the morning..." Plum laughed at his own joke. "I used to be a part of Galactic conqueror's army. His name was Lord Frieza. I was summoned here originally by Dr. Gero as a test subject. He wanted to summon every species from our original Universe to dissect and study. Kind of a dream of his from before the Omniverse. Even after all that Hell he put me through, I still ended up at the bottom of that cesspool." Plum looked extremely bitter.

"Forget that now. Soon we'll be dinning on King's flesh and then we'll be on our way to it our former King and Emperor." Plum and Tegan smiled together and clasped their right hands together. They returned to their search. "Now what about him?" Tegan pointed at a man hunched over a solitary game of dice, he had a scoped rifle on his back with short gray hair and what looked like tattered hunting apparel. "Excuse me fellow kinsmen, you wouldn't happen to be a hunter by trade would you?"

The man looked up from his dice game, holding the pieces in his hand. He rolled them, showing them to be human teeth. "Snake eyes again... I think they're loaded." He looked up and smiled at Tegan, showing four rows of white teeth.

[Eon Saverem]

The man's name was Knotch, he was a hunter from the Tangled Green. While their he hunted every known creature, and was damn good at it. He was summoned as a scout for the war, and after he just couldn't sit around. Hunting became his sole purpose in the Omniverse. He had hunted the Tangled Green for so long, the number of trophies he held were countless. Knotch soon became bored of beastly game and turned his sights on a more exciting game... Secondaries and Primes. Every one different in its own way, making it a new hunt every time. He had racked up quite the kill count before being discovered by Mokugakure, The Hidden Leaf Village, after which he fled through the portal and into the Endless Dunes to evade capture.

It was here in the Dunes that he discovered Baron Deathchew and his Cannibal crew. An entire tribe built around the goal, and lifestyle, of hunting and eating Secondaries and Primes. Knotch was elated to have stumbled upon such a wondrous way of life in a place like this. He joined without a second thought and when he first dined on the flesh of another, he felt like a true predator. He loved the feeling so much that he surgically had another top and bottom row of teeth placed in his mouth, to better tear the flesh. His goal was to rise through the clans ranks until the Baron entrusted him with starting a sister clan in the Tangled Green and expand their power and influence. When Tegan and Plum offered him a chance of jumping up the ladder so quickly, he snatched the opportunity as fast as it had be offered. He was going to be the one to track down and hunt a Prime of Legendary proportions. He salivated at the thought.

[Eon Saverem]

Tegan felt good about the two comrades he had found. Plum was useful in both close quarters combat as well as mid to far range with his energy blasts. Tegan was extremely excited about Knotch though, not only was he a long range fighter, he was actually a hunter and scout. He would be extremely useful in tracking down the Prime. Tegan himself was a close up fighter, good with his blade. Now came the part where he gathered up a handful of expendables. Ten would be a good number. So long as he brought back Gilgamesh for the Baron, he wouldn't mind losing weak clansmen. Unlucky thirteen was the number...

"So, where we heading first?" Plum said with excitement in his eyes.

"We'll start our hunt where the last actual sighting of the False King was..." Tegan looked towards the horizon.

"Ahhh... we pick up the trail from his forsaken city." Knotch polished his rifle and licked his teeth.

Tegan place a hand on either of his comrades shoulders, ten more gleeful sadistic faces behind him, "That's right brothers. We make our way for Nippur."