Hunt for the Mongolian Death Worm

The Ungrith’tar stood in the desert alone, sand shifting around his hooved feet as the wind whistled wildly. His black fur whipped hazardously against his body in the chill wind as the sunset to his right, casting a golden orange glow across the shifting sands. Behind him the city of Dalanzadgad glowed softly with lights to ward off the darkness of the oncoming night. He turned his head, his magnificent three and half foot white horns moving with his neck movement as he gazed upon the sunset. It set his brown eyes afire, enhancing the golden streaks with in them to making them seem to expand with in his orbs to rivers of yellow fire. The huge male ungrith'tar was not perturbed by the screaming, icy winds coming across the desert. Nor the small amount of sand that flew upon those winds. His midnight black fur was a perfect insulator, keeping him warm against the cold and safe against the flying granules.

The male lifted his huge two handed axe from the ground, the haft coming three inches from the sand around it as the male reached behind him and placed the weapon in to a simple harness there to keep it out of the way. His two hand axes rested upon his waist on either side, a comforting weight indeed. The Ungrith’tar would not be setting out tonight to hunt the fabled Mongolian Death Worm. Darkness would do him no good if the creature, if it truly existed, where to attack him and he could not see the beast to defend himself or retaliate. He would wait until first light and head out upon the desert. Turning, he walked back towards the city to a small shack he had found on the outskirts. Not wanting to bother the locals to much, he had made a bed there upon the ground of old leathers and blankets, and would sleep there.

Ba'alzamon had come up here for no real reason. He had only been freed for two years now and was seeking to find a name and place for himself. As he had though so long ago, not many appreciated the eight foot and eleven inch tall Ungrith’tar. Many ran from him upon sight though he could not really find any reason to blame them. Simply looking in to any reflective surface was enough to tell him that he did not fit in amongst the human population, but he had no where else to go. Few, if any, saw him as more then a beast who could not do anything. The looks of surprise upon their faces when he spoke would have been almost amusing, if it did not bring anger and wrath up inside of him like a volcano ready to erupt against them. He always managed to quell such feelings, knowing the would do nothing but cause trouble that he did not need. Stepping before his shack, he paused and slowly cast his large head from side to side looking at the quickly vanishing sunset first then at the gently glowing city before him.

[Stilia Medusa]

The Gobi desert, one of the world's great deserts, it’s vastness stretching across Mongolia. It was not filled with sand dunes like the Sahara, but was still quite a sight to see. The wind blew it’s frigid breath, something that seemed out of place within a desert. But it was approaching night, and the Mongolian desert was always subjected to the cold. The sand swirled and moved as large feet padded across it, a Bactrian camel crossing it’s expanse. The endangered camel, native to the Mongolian desert, had it’s head down to block the wind as it pushed itself across.

The camel was quite tired, having been travelling quite a long ways. It was in search of something, a large creature. The camel, much more intelligent than the average humped beast, wanted to research the famed Mongolian Death Worm. It had been searching for days now, but needed to stop by a town to gain supplies. If it was not obvious by this point, the camel was indeed not a camel, but someone else. A person, a woman, a gorgon to be precise. One by the name of Stilia Medusa. Despite young age, she had travelled much of the world, and despite the fact that her skills did not lie in strength, she had gone on searches for creatures many times. Stilia, while on her search for this elusive worm, was now almost out of food, and needed to refill her water as well. She was merely in the form of a camel for the sake of it’s fur, as she was one who hated the cold.

The sun sunk even lower, and it was almost dark. She decided she would rest, and refill her supplies tomorrow. She spotted a shack outside of the city, and rushed over. When she reached it’s rickety exterior, she morphed herself, taking the form of a small mouse. It was best to be prudent, and this was a much more stealthy way to look inside. The gorgon-mouse was quite surprised though, as she spotted a sight she had never seen before. There was a large brute of a man, who could barely be considered man at all. Covered in fur, this large tank seemed to be more of a bull on two feet than anything else. It’s fur was black, it’s sharp pointed horns gleaming white. It was, with no doubt, a Minotaur, a creature that had also been placed within Greek lore like her own species. Stilia was tempted to run, but wished to stay, to see what this beast was like. She should be fairly safe, but even if she hadn’t been her curiosity would have driven her to at least observe the creature a tad longer.

The Wolven sat cross legged upon the soft sand, the wind blowing around him and chilling him to the bone. He wore nothing but a simple white sleeveless shirt and leather jerkin style pants. Stilia had gone ahead of him. For what reason he did not know. Except that she had been very adamant that he stay right here in this spot. He was very close to the city, about less then half a mile. An exceedingly easy walk so he was confused as to why she had refused to let him get any farther. He sat fiddling in the sand like a little child, digging small holes and building little mounds. He would draw random squiggly and lines and smile at them before wiping them away and continuing to to do more. His armor lay in the sand next to him, discarded for a rare moment to allow the cool night breeze to blow against his face.

He was clean shaven finally after his escape from the horrible place of metal and cold and dark places but he had not cut his hair so it was very long. It hung to about the middle of his back, thick and coarse and black. It was pleated in to a thick ponytail and moved as he head did, sliding along his back. He sighed and looked up at the sky, simply staring and shivering slightly as the wind blew harder, a bit of sand hitting his arm and he looked down and glared at it. It stung like ants biting him and he swatted at his arm with a grunt. He went back to playing in the sand, unaware of a small mound of sand slowly making its way towards him.

The mound stopped with in a foot of the seated man. It suddenly began to collapse upon itself as a small pinkish like worm seven inches long slithered from the collapsing mound. The Wolven looked at this strangeness and tilted his head. He wanted to reach out and touch whatever this thing was but it looked....dangerous. As if he should keep his distance from it. However it was slowly moving towards him, waving it's head from side to side as if it was smelling for something. Suddenly it stopped and it looked directly at his leg. It opened it's tiny little mouth and then Wolven roared in agony as a brilliant arc of electricity lanced from the creature and touched his leg. He swatted at the worm, missing and casting sand but sending it hurling through the air. He attempted to stand as he howled in anger and rage and pain, but his leg had gone completely numb from the energy that had entered it and he collapsed upon his side, snarling and snapping his teeth trying to reach out and grasps his armor to try and put it back upon himself as he felt safer with in it and more powerful.

[Jesep Carrigan]

Jesep raced along on his hoverboard, zipping along at the machine's top speed of forty five miles and hour. He was staying low to the ground, knees bent and fingers gripping the edge of the board. His four spheres hung around his waist, and his sword upon his back. The minature missles housed in his board where primed to go as well. He was well armed, for this was not just an outting for any reason, but an outting to hunt and kill. He was looking for the mythical Mongolian Death Worm, rumored to live in the Gobi Desert which is where he was flying now. Except his board was almost out of power he had been out flying for so long and he was trying to get back in to town to recharge it before it died and he had to walk the rest of the way.

He had flown here upon a private jet, thanks be to his father's and now his company of Carrigan Enterprises. He was extremely rich, though he chose not to flaunt. Well, in his view he didn't flaunt it but in everybody else's he was totally flaunting it. All that money, and the company, where to explain the high tech gadgetry he had upon him and beneath his feet. He was dressed in his black and green outfit, his boots with the electromagnets in the heels to attach him to the board. Though he had found promising signs of the worms to the south east of the city, long furrows going along the sand.

Suddenly his head jerked up as a might roar filled the once silent air. Whatever it was was....HOLY SHIT!!! Jesep leaned on his board, not moving the machine itself but dodging a small thin pink worm that flew up towards him then past him. He spun on his board, pulling a hundred and eighty degree turn and dropped the machine towards the ground. He deactivated the electromagnets in his boots and leap from the board then turned it off with a push of a button upon his left wrist remote. He picked up the device and hurried towards where the roar came from and the worm had flew at his face.

Sitting on the ground was a massive mountain of a man, all rippling muscle and power. He was an extremely dangerous man, Jesep could tell right away. However, he seemed crippled, favoring one of his legs as he the man struggled to reach something hulking in the sand. Moving closer, Jesep was actually frightened. For the first time in his life, Jesep the vigilante, the fighter of crime was scared. The man was attempted to reach and put upon a massive suit of armor that was EXTREMELY remiscient of a wolf and he could make out long daggers or claws of some kind upon the outfit. Jesep back peddled, reaching to his waist with his free left and drawing his incendiary bomb to hurl at this man before him.

Ba'alzamon stopped outside his home and turned looking out in the distance over the desert. He frowned, looking from side to side. Was that a roar in the distance? He was almost positive it was. He began to trot in the direction it had come from slowly. He slowly began gathering speed, until he was in a full out gallop along the dunes. He wondered who, or what, could be out here in the middle of the oncoming night in the cold. Even worse, what could cause that being to roar in such agony and pain. He drew one of his hand axes from his belt in to his left hand, and lowered his body ready to run in to anything that should appear from the sand and gore it with his four mighty horns. As he galloped, he saw something growing in his view and soon spotted two beings upon the sand.

One was laying upon it, struggling and clearly the source of the roar almost as mighty as Ba'alzamon's own voice. He was obviously wounded and attempting to reach what looked like a suit of armor laying upon the sand. Standing behind and over him holding some sort of spherical object in his hand was another being, also obviously male. Ba'alzamon didn't know what was going on, but the uninjured male obviously had an intent to harm the one who was crippled and so the Ungrith'tar leap in to action. Literally....he leap the few feet remaining between them and grabbed the man's wrist holding the spheroid and gripped it tightly, not allowing him to throw the object as he swiftly stored his axe upon his waist and plucked the tiny (to him) sphere from the other male's grasp and uttered a deep, rumbling snarling from his chest that would rattle the man through the grip the Ungrith'tar male hand upon him.

[Stilia Medusa]

The mouse’s ears shot up, and Stilia’s attention was turned from the Minotaur to a sound, the sound of a yell that sounded more like a roar than anything else. She knew of the source already, and was instantly worried. She had left the Wolven out in the desert as she searched for a place for them to stay, as she had not wanted the murderous human near a city. She was never quite sure when he felt that bloodlust, and wanted to spare both the victims and himself, as she had no wish to rescue him from a prison… again.


It seemed the Minotaur’s interest had also been caught by the feral scream, as he stepped back outside and began to look around. It seemed as if he was about to go search for her human companion, and he could probably get there quickly. The mouse scurried close, before shifting into an even smaller creature, a small fly that flew and landed on the Minotaur’s fur shortly before he took off. Stilia, absolutely horrified that she was in the form of a pesky fly, clung on as best she could. The Minotaur’s powerful legs had him galloping like a horse, and it jostled her quite a bit. Miraculously, she held on.


They finally arrived, and Stilia was slightly dizzy, she let go and zigzagged a bit, trying to regain her bearings. It was hard to see with these damned fly eyes anyways. Soon she gained her senses, and flew on over to the Wolven. He seemed in pain, and there were others here. She wondered if that man on the strange board had hurt him, and had some sort of sphere in his hand. The Minotaur stepped in, stopping him and taking the thing. There also seemed to be some sort of pink worm. The fly landed and changed, growing impossibly into the form of a woman. She kept the form of a humanoid, instead of freaking them out (even more than they could have been by a woman growing from the form of a fly). A scowl was on her face, and she set her hand to her hip, taking out a dagger. Her eyes went down to Wolven.


“Are you alright?” She asked. The man never spoke, so she had learned to only ask ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. She eyed all the people and the worm warily, fearing attack.

Wolven looked up at the sound at the sound of pounding hooves and snarled, fingers finally grasping his armor and he promptly pulled it upon his body. He couldn't get the clasps all on in the position he was in but he instantly snapped his claws out and took up the most ferocious position he could upon seeing a male human threatening to throw something in his direction while as an being even more enormous then himself thundered up to them and promptly grasped the human's arm and took whatever little ball he had in his hand away.

He didn't relax his posture however until Stilia appeared like magic out of thin air. Wolven actually SMILED behind his mask, feeling happy at the site of her finally and nodded his head at her question before tapping his leg to show what was wrong. He glanced back a the other two beings, wondering who they where not feeling especially nervous around them already. He struggled to try to stand again and proceeded to fall directly upon his face, the muzzle of his metallic outfit burying in the sand. This did nothing but to further infuriate him and he began to thrash about wildly until he righted himself, snarling and grunting. The noises where directed at himself more then anything for making himself look stupid in front of everybody, especially the two that he did not know.

He finally managed to struggle to his feet, placing all his weight upon his one good leg and simply using the other as more of a balance now. He looked like a crane now, not a very good first impression upon people he didn't know. Especially as he wanted to look terrifying and deadly. He now simply looked strange and ungainly, like some sort of mentally retarded person in an outfit. Oh, wait....he was.

[Kyrian Tidus]

It was the beginning of a dark night, the temperature already freezing in the desert. The Gobi desert, fifth largest desert in the world, and supposed home to a deadly creature that has plagued the dreams of Mongolian sand-dwellers for centuries; the Mongolian Death Worms. It was on this cold, dark night that a man walked among the sand that swirled at the wind's slightest touch. He winds kept his loose shirt and cotton sweat pants flopping about against his well-muscled body. Most would argue that it was way too cold to be wearing such light clothing; however, going through pretty much every form of survival training he would normally encounter, the male had built up a pretty good resistance to the cold.

He was jogging at a steady pace towards the source of a loud roar that reverberated throughout the very night. Upon reaching the top of a dune, he saw a strange site for any 'normal' person, and instantly flattened against the hard sand in order to not attract the attention of the people below: A monstrous human in a suit of armor resembling a wolf, probably the source of the roar. Behind him stood what obviously had to be a hunter, and a tall, horned, fur-covered beast. This must be a Minotaur. What luck for Kyrian, to not only hunt down the Mongolian Worms, but also to meet a minotaur. And then, a humanoid female seemed to stretch out from the very air itself; probably a shape-shifter. The male decided that they all seemed peaceful enough, and the beast of a human was actually entertaining; so he decided to test his luck and go to meet them. Being the carefree, in-the-moment guy that he was, the male slid down the side of the dune calling out to the assortment of creatures below him. "Hi there! Am I late for the party?"

[Jesep Carrigan]

Jesep yelled as his incendiary bomb was suddenly jerked from his hand as a an enormous hairy hand grasped his wrist in a exceedingly tight hold. He spun around, yelling at the creature that had hold of him. It resemble a minotaur, except was extremely tall and had four horns instead of two. A freak perhaps? He didn't know nor did he truly care. He pounded weakly against it's chest and screamed at it. Finally he twisted his arm behind him and grasped the hilt of his short sword and swung it around, attempting to slice the beast up the chest. Whether it dodge or took the blow, he didn't care, but he jerked back and away as a voice suddenly spoke up behind them.

"Am I late for the party?" Jesep would flick his glance towards the man and snapped.

"NO! You are in perfect time! Get this walking carpet off me and get me my weapon back before he kills us all like the giant moron he is!" He practically yelled, a combination of fear and anger fueling his growing energy.

The great Ungrith'tar remained remarkably calm and cool through the entire triad from the small human male. However when the sword swung upwards he released the male, stepping backwards to dodge the sword strike. He heard the male speaking behind him but did not care, the next words from the male's mouth pushed something deep inside of him. It was almost as if he had said the words 'minotaur' to him. It was an instant reaction of pure rage, boiling up inside of his chest instantaneously. Ba'alzamon roared in rage and his hand, raised already for he had yet to drop it from the angle he had used to catch the small male's hand, reversed it's direction aiming to strike the male back right across the face. If it landed it would be a brutal backhanded blow from the extremely strong Ungrith'tar, powerful enough to break the weak human's jaw right from his face.

As if this was not enough of an assault, the enormous head of the Ungrith'tar lowered to present all four horns plus the small fifth metal one upon his helm. He charged directly towards the man, bellowing again seeking to bury his horns directly in his guts. He would gore them man, rip his intestines from his body and perhaps strangle him with them before feasting upon the bloody carcass. He never even reached for any of his weapons, just running at full speed directly at the male and roaring over and over at the top of his lungs, his vision red around the edges and his mind clouded by anger.

[Stilia Medusa]

She cast a worried glance down at Wolven. Despite the fact that he was a serial killer, and a psychopath, he acted more like a puppy then anything. One that decided to follow her around. An annoyance, but she figured it had it’s uses as well. The Wolven tapped his leg, showing where he was harmed. She watched as he tried to get up, letting him do it on his own. After much snarling and struggling, he got up; he balanced on one leg, like a child playing hopscotch. She would have to heal it for him later, but not until she could get them away from these violent strangers.

None of them seemed to react to her sudden appearance though, and they were either used to such occurrences, or too observed in their fight to noticed. She hoped it was the later, as then it would be simple to get away. As if here to ruin her plans, another random male walked in, asking about a party. Who in the world waltzed up to a fight, with a giant bull-human creature involved? And how many people were in this desert anyways? Plus, it was one of the largest deserts in the world, how did all these people get attracted to this one spot?

Her eyes scanned the ground, looking for that worm-thing she had noted before. Whatever it had been, she didn’t see it now. Perhaps it had slunk away at the signs of a gathering, or perhaps it was merely hidden beyond her sight. A sudden sprout of yelling caught her attention, returning it to the man with the strange equipment. He seemed angered by the male newcomer, despite the fact that he had not reacted to a woman appearing from thin air. A small smile even appeared upon her lips at this, until the Minotaur went into an attack. She was quite glad she hadn’t approached the creature earlier, not if it was violent. Her guts could have easily been splattered against the walls of that shack.

They needed to get out of there, before they were dragged into the fight. But there was no way Wolven could walk, based on the way he was standing. So, watching the others wearily, she crouched, placing her hands on the Wolven’s injured leg. She concentrated, putting her energy into it. She didn’t have the time to heal it completely, because she wanted to go, but hopefully she could quickly make it useable once more.

As she healed his leg, the numbness from the incredible electrical jolt quickly vanished, and he grunted to let her know that he could once again use his leg. However, now a battle had suddenly begun raging between the giant horned creature and a small man. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, before suddenly he lunged between the two beings. His hands shot out, claws snapping forward in to an attack position but his fingers wrapped around the fore most horns of the rushing beast. The giant metallic like wolfish mouth opened and he bellowed a roar back at the on rushing demon, muscles bulging and feet skidding in the sand as it pushed him back but still he struggled, then heaved sideways to throw the horned monster to the side, out of the line of the human it had been trying to gore.

Wolven roared again, the mouth snapping shut and he bent his knees, arms spread and claws still extended. He glared at the horned being, muscles tensed and ready to attack again if the thing charged for Wolven was sure he had drawn the wrath of the beast upon himself for interfering such as he had done. His muscles ached slightly from the feat he had just performed as well, strained slightly but inside he swelled with pride. He might be dumb, but he had heard of minotaurs before and he knew they where supposedly immensely strong. He may not have stopped it, the sand would never have allowed it anyways, but he was sure he could have come close and he had been able to throw it aside. Even to himself, it was pretty impressive.

[Kyrian Tidus]

The male whistled lowly, watching the armored 'wolf' throw down the stampeding minotaur. "Damn. This one really is a beast." He slowly made his way over to the group, walking almost leisurely. Although it might look like he was carefree and mindless of the danger, the male was actually watching over everyone and assessing their behaviors. He had already picked up a lot from this group in just his short time watching them. He knew that the one he would probably have to watch out for the most was the female; she seemed to actually be able to reason with the brutish man, and maybe even control him a bit. So he really was like a wild attack dog.

The next dangerous would probably be the minotaur, if he grouped both the female and the 'wolf' as a pair. This true beast seemed to have a problem with being called a minotaur, maybe a very troubling past. Probably hunted, tortured, or even worse. There were many things that would break a man's spirit. But for one word to bring down a barrier that held back such painful memories... This one had had a terrible past. He would have to tread lightly, not knowing where the line lay just yet.

The highly-equipped hunter was obviously still wet behind the ears. He wasn't able to read a situation, nor able to properly handle one. Although, he didn't seem to be afraid, a bonus for him. If it came to the worse, and there had to be a fight, he would probably be the easiest to take care of.

Kyrian, having assessed the situation quickly and not wanting it to continue, walked over to the fallen minotaur, and extended his hand towards the massive creature. Knowing that their kind were of an honorable warrior mindset, and often formed small bands, it would be best to present himself as a friend to this one first. After all, becoming his 'brother' would make for the best help in a fight against the worms. "Need some help up? Warriors don't look very fearsome when laying on the ground."

The Ungrith'tar snarled, shoving the male's hand out of the way as he got back to his feet. He stared at the male that had thrown him down. That was a most incredible feat to be performed by a simple human. He could not fault the male upon that. It was indeed a powerful person to catch, and turn aside an Ungrith'tar charging at full power. The fact that had just gained the human a large amount of respect. Walking towards the male, the Ungrith'tar extended his hand to him in silence to shake it. After the male (whether or not he chose to shake his hand or not) had performed whatever action he had done, the Ungrith'tar turned away and began walking away from them all, staring off in to the star strewn sky and sighing. He really did need to learn to gain his temper under control. He was better then that, and he knew it. However, it was like a switch and with a simple flick it would turn on against whoever had turned the switch. He frowned, shaking his head and sighing again.