Topic: Tusken Canyon RPG

Okay, in this game, you can either be a pure blood Tusken, a human that's been adopted by Tuskens, or a Moisture Farmer. No fancy weapons though if you're a Tusken. You can only have a Gaffi Stick and a Slug Thrower rifle (which is optional) and you have to have a Bantha of the same Gender as your character.

If your a Moisture Farmer, you can have something a bit more fancy, just don't go overboard (Like no big rifles of funky guns.)

Character Sheet:

Name:
Gender:
Species:
Bantha's Name (Tuskens only):
Weapon:
History (doesn't have to be too long):

Side Note: The Tuskens are Pre-Episode II, meaning the both Females and Males are treated equally and can't be told apart just by looking at them. Other than that, everything else is the same.

The only thing I ask is that everyone stays on topic. If you have any questions or want to  talk about OOC things, either PM me or make a seperate thread for it please. Other than that, have fun.

Name: Janson Lar

Gender:Male

Species: Human

Weapon: DL-44 blaster pistol

History: Ever since Jansons family was murdered by Tuskans at age 18, Janson has kept his fathers Moister Farm in the best conditon he could. Know 3 years later, and know that he has saved up credits for a blaster he has vowed to kill the Tusken beasts that have killed his family.

Janson stared out to the setting suns. He was debating in his mind whether he should seek the Tusken raiders at night, or if he should wait till first light. Deciding that he would have a better chance of finding the monsters if he set out at night. He went to fetch his speeder bike...

Name: H'rri
Gender: Female
Species: Pure blood Tusken
Bantha's Name: K'rll
Weapon: Gaderffi tipped with Sandbat venom and a Slugthrower rifle.
History: Her history isn't really that different that the average Tusken's, aside fron the fact that she finds Outsiders more interesting than disgusting. She has to keep that fact well hidden from the others or she'll be banished from her tribe.

A lone Tusken Mount traveled the sun colored sands, the rider's tubed eyes scanning the dunes. The rest of her party has long since gone back to camp, but she insisted on staying behind, making up the excuse that she wanted to find at least one Outsider to kill. What they didn't know is that she wasn't going to kill any Outsiders, just observe them. She knew, due to years of having it engrained in her mind, that she was supposed to hate the outsiders, but now that she was alone she didn't have to worry about killing any.

Name: A'Jaret Tek
Gender:Male
Species:Human
Bantha's Name:Houroo
Weapon: Short-barreled slug-thrower
History: Orphaned during a raid on a caravan and raised by the Tuskens out of respect for one of the humans who put up a considerable fight before being killed. To most off-worlders his appearance was too similar to a Tusken Raider to notice he wasn't truly one. But to anyone familiar with Tuskens it was apparent he was a little too heavy-set, too broad shouldered, and not quite tall enough to be a true Tusken.

Huddled around a small fire and leaning against the furry hide of his bantha, A'Jaret looked out into the coming  darkness of the Tattooine night, knowing that the darkness would not last long and at dawn he could resume his hunt for a Krayt Dragon.

He'd been in the desert alone with his mount for little over a month now and was still tracking his quarry. He would need to retrieve a Krayt Dragon pearl in order to return to his home and be awarded his Gaderffii, but so far he had seen very few other living creatures. He runs his hand fondly through the shaggy hair of his mount's head as he pictures the glory he'll be rewarded when he returns to the tribe.

Gathering a weeks worth of food and water and packing it on his speeder, Janson was thinking of his father, and how he had died. Being overpowered be three tuskens, he had been chocked and stabed to death right before his eyes! But he had been too scared too do much of anything, seeing his mother and two sisters choped to pieces had put him into shock. So he had run and survived. There wasnt a day that went buy that he wished he had done differently wished he had done somthing to help his father. Know three years later he was going to make it right he was going to kill those monsters!! And make his father proud!!

Too much on his mind to sleep, he leans forward and draws various depictions of him battling Krayt Dragons in the sand with his finger. He still wasn't sure how he was even going to kill the Dragon, he had never even seen one and was depending on stories and descriptions of the village elders to locate one, and drawing in the sand helped him focus his thoughts and come up with a plan.

After a few minutes his eagerness to prove himself to his clan overpowers him and after mounting his bantha he heads off into the desert in search of glory.

Janson sped through the desert on his speeder. Coming across a herd of banthas, he stoped quickly to avoid being seen. He smiled too himself where threre were banthas threre were Tuskans. Stashing his speeder in a dryed up river bed. Janson pulled out his DL-44 and the home-made carbine attachment and screwed them on, and looked through his scope for a target....

Character Sheet:

Name: Groww'lun'gh'ung'hh

Gender: male

Species: Tusken Raider

Age: 19

Bantha's Name (Tuskens only): Hak'ung

Weapon: Simple gadderffi

History: Groww was discovered by his village shaman to have rudimentary force powers when he was still an adolescent. Once the previous shaman died, Grrow took over his position, becoming the tribe's spiritual leader. He has been in the position for nearly two years at this point, and is unsure about the usefulness of his position, despite the faith his tribesmen have in him.

Skills: Groww's force abilities manifest themselves through clairvoyance and communication. His powers of prediction are still so basic that they only manifest to any useful degree in his dreams, which enable him to guide his tribe across the desert but cannot be used on a whim. His communication methods make his interactions with animals more intuitive. He has, in his youth, neglected his weapons training, preferring instead to attune himself with his bantha companion and the other various beasts that inhabit the Jundland wastes. As a result he can communicate with his mount telepathically, but his gadderffi skills leave something to be desired.

Turn. Turn. Turn. Yes, turn. Yes, turn left.
Before Grrow, the bantha straying from the herd turned and fell back into pace with his fellows. Grrow smiled slightly under his wrappings.
Last year this time, I could scarcely control my own Hak'ung. In the years to come, what manner of control might I achieve over the beasts of the desert in the years to come? The gift of the Divines will truly make me great.

Careful, Shaman, spoke a voice in his head, taking on the intonations of his former mentor. The Gift belongs not to you, but to the tribe. You are merely its medium. To use it only to increase your own glory is a crime against the Divines. Use it to aid the tribe only, lest you be tempted to forget those whom you serve.

Grrow heaved a sigh, and knew that part of his that has been shaped so carefully by the previous shaman was correct: his aspirations for greatness could never come to fruition as long as he served his tribe. He abandoned all dreams of taming a krayt dragon and turned back to the herd of banthas-
DANGER!
Without thinking, Grrow ducked his head and felt a searing heat as his wrappings were grazed by a blaster bolt.

The sudden noise made the bantha herd erupt in chaos. Grrow sat stunned for a moment as he realized what had just happened, until he was hit with the sickening truth of the danger he lay in: a marksman had fired upon him, tried to kill him, and now he stood in the middle of a group of stampeding bathas.

CALM he bellowed in his mind at each surrounding bantha. CALM OR DIE!

But whether his Gift was stretched too thin by the number of targets, or whether the beasts were too frenzied to acknowledge his command, only Hak'ung remained stationary.

This won't work, he told himself. It's too contrary to their instincts. I need to separate them, and quickly, before they trample each other to death.

Concentrating intensely, he raised his arms and tried to slow his beating heart. He felt the panic of each beast before him, the pain of those who had already been crushed by their herdmates, and told them to run.

RUN RUN RUN RUN SEPARATE AND RUN SPREAD SPREAD OUT RUN SEPARTE SPREAD RUN SEPARATE SPREAD

The banthas were only too glad to obey this command. They branched out from their neat line as though the river of fur was emptying into the sea of sand, leaving behind the bloodied masses of the trampled victims. It would take days to round up the herd again, but at least the greatest number of them had been saved.

Grrow felt a moment of relief before a second blaster bolt speared him through the shoulder.

He fell hard against his mount, and managed to turn his head to his attacker. Atop a dune almost 200 meters away, stood a man outlined against the twin suns next to a speeder.

A dozen different courses of action occurred to Grrow at once. As a tusken, he should fight. As a shaman, he should alert the members of his tribe. As a warrior, he should kill the man who had attacked him. As a leader, he should preserve his own life as a top priority. As a victim, he should fight back. As a wounded man, he should try to survive.

As a coward who is unsure of his own abilities and who is in severe pain, he dropped as low in his saddle as possible, and issued a command to his anxious beast: Back to the village. Hak'ung took off for the settlement at a full gallop, quickly leaving the range of the man on the dune.

I had to do it. As shaman, I must preserve my life. I am more important than the others.

As soon as he has thought it, he hated himself.

Character Sheet:

Name:Quenten Var
Gender:Male
Species:Human
Weapon:Home made long sword and Hold out blaster
History:Once a friend of Anikin Skywalker. Father and mother Died of exposer in field.

   Ever sence Ani left, ten years ago, nothing had gone right.
After his Mom and Pop died, two years ago, the farm had dried up fanily today he had to move a way. With a last fair-well to his parents' graves he walked to the Lar farm to tell  Janson Good bye.
     When he got there the farm was deserted. 'I got to go find him,' Var thought.
      He found him near a heard of banthas. "Janson, what are you doing?" Var asked. Janson did not ansewer. Var suddenly realized what. He looked through his bionoculers. The banthas cleared. "One  hundred  feet away," Var whispered to Janson, "ten feet up, fire."
     Var heard safty on a pistol click and sunddenly a bolt of light shot out of the end of his Gun. Var saw a sand person turn. Var ducked.

"Blast!" Janson yelled. He was hoping he would get a clean head shot but some how the Tusken had impossibly dodged out of the way. he jumped on his speeder and begain to follow his qwary. But already Janson begain to lose sight of the bantha the Tuskan was riding. The sands started to blow harshly. Stoping quickly he riped off a strip of his shirt off anf tied it over his mouth then pulled out his gogles and put them on. Night was falling fast, soon he would have to find shelter for himself and his bike. But first he would kill this Tusken.....

'Damn you' thought Var. "You left me,"He said as he jumped in the speeder. Janson said nothing.

The sound of an approaching speeder causes him to pause. He stops Houroo and dismounts, pulling his slugthrower rifle from its holster on Houroo's saddle. An approaching speeder means travelers, and travelers means water and food. He'd kill the travelers, probably moisture farmers, and then use their supplies on his quest for the Krayt Dragon. He'd only killed twice before and neither of them had been sentient kills, but from the way the village elders spoke, moisture farmers were easy game. He crouches behind a nearby sand dune and beckons Houroo to him. Here he would lay in wait for his victims.

Var motioned to Janson to stop. "Look up ahead," Var said. "Sand people!" said Janson. Var drew his blaster.

((sorry, Karson Fett I didnt see your post))

Janson also drew his blaster and cocked it in too rapid fire, and sent the speeder at the full throttle at the Tuskans...

((it Is Ok Let Get Back To Rpg))
"I got one!"  Var yelled.  Suddenly He felt pain.  "Damn!" yelled Var, "they got me!"

Janson looked over to see his freind Var cluching a blood staind arm. He then pulled his speeder out of the ingagement and sped towerds a small sand dune for cover.

He  thinks he hears the cries of his people.Normally he would go to them, but until his quest is completed he is forbidden from contact with others of his kind.

The hum of the speeder draws closer. He patiently waits for the vehicle to come nearer.

"Janson I have a medkit in my bag,"Var said caughing up blood, "Get i-it!" Var fired one last shot and blacked out.

fumbaling for Vars Medkit, he pulls out a strip of bandage and raps it around Vars arm. As another bulit glaces off his speeder he Janson begins to think that this wasnt a good Idea too come out here....checking too see if his blasters safety was off he begain to fire into the midst of advancing Tuskans....

Var woke to blaster fire. Var reached for his. He got hit again. His hand was on fire. He grabed his blaster and fired hiting a tuskin in the neck.
"Good shot," said Janson. Var got up and went to the speeder. "Come on," said Var. "Lets get to Ankerhead."Janson walked over to the speeder. "Are you ready,Var?" he asked. "Lets go," said Var.

cmon! Janson yelled. we got to get out of hear! Starting the speeder at full speed towards a ravine running over a tuskan in the process. (but didnt relise at the time that the ravine would be perfect place for an ambush)

"Stop!" Yelled Var. "Go to Ancoerhead, I need medical attention!" But it was to late Var grabed his blade.  Suddenly the speeder lerched. Var looked back. The engien was on fire!

"Look the engines on fire!" Var said, Janson looked back and saw the engine on fire then...BOOM! it exploded. They then crashed into a bunch of large rocks in the ravine.....with Tuskan Raiders on there trail.

Var come to. "Wake up Janson," he said. Janson didn't move. "Damn,we got to get to the city," Var said to himself. Var picked up Janson, and ran.

Janson woke up to the sound of panting. "What th-," he was being carried.  "hey put me down!" he yelled.

The desert is haze in itself, so Grrow did not know when his vision began to blur. He only realized when the village entered his field of vision just how out of focus everything was. He tried to lift his arm in greeting to the pair of guards who approached him, but only managed to lose his balance and topple off his mount. He was only vaguely aware of a sensation of being lifted from the sandy ground and transported through the village.

If I had turned and fought the human, I would certainly have been killed, he thought in his bleary state of semi-consciousness. I had to leave. It is the job of the warrior to die, not of the shaman...

But the chieftain rode into battle alongside his warriors. The most important member of the entire tribe subscribed to the Tusken way of fighting for survival. Why was he, the shaman, the only one to whom the rules did not apply? Why did he never ask this of his predecessor while he could?

His musings died away as he slipped into a proper sleep. He could hear, but not comprehend, as the world of sights and sounds faded into that of dreams and memories. He caught one bit of conversation as he faded to black: "we have captured the interlopers, and plan to execute them in the morning". From there, everything he saw was in his dreams.

"Gladly," said Var. "We must get to Ancorhead, now we both need medical attention!"

Thats a rather long walk dont ya think? Janson said. Shouldnt we just steal a bantha?

Behind the sand dune, he is prepared to wait for a very long time. From the looks of things he'll be there for at least two months, a year at the longest.

((er..can i join?))

"Hey, let get to that tall sand dune to get are bearings," Janson said.

He hears the voices again and it seems that his wait will not be nearly as long as he'd thought. From  the way their conversation is going, it would seem that at least one of them was injured. He would make sure neither of them was in pain for too much longer.

((Go ahead. Everyone's welcome whenever they feel like jumping in :) ))

"Wait, ahhh,do ya see that?" "What?"asked Janson. "That sand person,"Var said. "He is a lone?'' Var said unsure.
"He's a lone?" he asked. "Get your gun out," said Var, while doing so himself.

Name:Jason Lorenzo
Gender:Male
Species:Human
Weapons: Old DC-17, weapon is damaged by acid, limiting its ability, only one clip(wepon is more of a trophy than anything else). blaster pistol
History: A former mecanary, barely escaped his first mission, alone, the "targets" having killed his squad, decided to move to Tattoine and start farming water.

"I think your seeing things" Janson mumbled as he gudgingly drew his blaster.

H'rri watched, intrigued by the outsiders. She even saw some fellow Tuskens as well.

"I wonder what they are going to do now," She thought, sliding off her Bantha and creeping forward a bit, making sure to stay behind the Dune. Her Bantha nudged her, worrying. She gave her a reassuring pat before going as far out as she could go.

Jason had just got back from the nearest town, he had gone there to get provisions. he went inside to store his food for the week, and he looked at the DC-17 on the wall. It was disfigured by the acid burns from those things in the facility. He sighed and started to put his groceries away. He decided that he would go out and check on some things around his farm. He grabed his blaster pistol, and paused  and grabbed the DC, and the clip as well. He didnt know why he had wanted to take it, the thing barely worked anyways. He got into his speeder, still wondering why he had the urge to take the old relic.

"I hear a speeder," Var said.

Jason sees two people standing out in the desert, he grabs his pistol , moves the DC and pulls up by them. "You guys need a hand?" ((funny how we keep runing into each other, huh?))

Look out more Tuskans!! yelled as the first volly of bulits came and knocked a hole in his thigh. "Damn it" he yelled. as he shot the first advancing Tuskan in the chest.

Jason saw the tuskans and yelled to the others "Get in!" he grabed his DC-17 and moved to the back and opened fire with the pistol

"uh....I got a hole in my leg!! cant walk! Help!" Janson yelled.

Jason swore, and got the wounded guy into the speeder, the other guy was already in. He drove off, headed for his farm

Janson sighed. "boy that was a close one!"

"Damn right, were headed to my farm, if they follow we can barracade our selves in there." His face was in that determined look, the look of someone who had seen and fought hellish things, and survived.

"No, we must get to the city!"Var said, "unless you have a medical facility!"

"How bad are you hurt, I know a bit about medical stuff" He had been realy good at the whole combat medic thing

"My hand and arm are blasted through," said Var.

Jason swore agian enjoying showing off his colorful lingustic skills he turned the craft and headed to the nearest med center