The hunt never ends. This is a fact of life with hunters like me; throughout your entire existence, you are part of the hunt. From when you pick up the rifle for the first time, to when death finally hunts you down, you are part of the great hunt. It rolls down to four parts really. Research, finding out what you need to know. Then comes the search, where you look far and wide for your quarry, whatever it may be. Then you find it, and you wrestle with it, striving against its difficulty to overcome it. And at last, once your aims are yours, you take a moment to rest, before the whole matter starts all over again.
It is time for me to rest now. Adam Ghaston, once a friend, now a rival, has attempted to take me down. In doing so, I became the target of a hunt, one that threatened many citizens of dear Ryloth, a planet I hold so precious. An excellent hunter, Ghaston had the research down and was successful in finding me. And he was prepared for my defense in all its ferocity. Needless to say, I survived the fight, but my leg will not heal for a long time. Perhaps I will pass into sleep before it does. To all my friends, loyal readers, and fellow hunters, I bid you good night. May your hunt never end.
Johnathon Claytan | Hero of Ryloth
Celebratory Reporter | Central Broadcasting News Service
In memory of Adam Ghaston. I told you I could shoot true that far.
"So this is how democracy dies. With thunderous applause."
So at last, after almost a year as a reporter for SWTOR-RP
, it is finally time for me to step down. I've posed many questions to you and received some interesting, exciting, and hard thought out answers. I've researched more into the Star Wars
beasts than I ever thought was possible, and come out the other side. But it brings me towards the subject of today's Force Reflection. How, in the end of days, does the story close?
Every good story has a good ending. A celebration. A funeral. A quiet moment of solace, to stand and remember the past. Remember the journey you've been through. The friends you've made and lost on the way, the shadows you've left behind. Sometimes you finish a book, shaken by the power of the words inside. And you're expected to move on, as if you haven't just experienced emotional trauma at the hands of a paperback. But move on you do, but you leave part of your soul behind in those pages.
I will always remember my time as a Reporter here. Ganden
, the editor, has mopped up my random capitalization and spelling mistakes with nay a complaint, and for that I commend him. He needs more credit. Maybe some day I'll come back to write articles, and I will finish up with Hunter's Digest
before moving on. This is how it ends for me. How will your stories end? After all the heartbreaks, the drama, the action and the adventure, how will it end for your characters? Will they fall in battle, or quietly with friends? Will they retire in peace, or go out with a bang? How, when the dust settles, will it finally end?
Let's face it: some of the races in the Star Wars
galaxy are a little overplayed. Lethan Twi'leks and supposedly rare Chiss are seen everywhere. An unfortunate byproduct of the character creation mechanics. And so they are considered to be a lot more wider-known and less exotic than they should be in an ideal RP environment.
But what of the lesser known species? Gand for example are featured in The Old Republic
, whilst making little show in much of the Expanded Universe, only cameoing once in the Empire Strikes Back
. Then there are the Evocii, which have little presence outside The Old Republic
Bothans, Ithorians, Kubaz, Genonosians and Kettons, Yoda's Species (actually listed as "Yoda's species"
. Honest!) begin to shape this article as largely being a list of Zenobiological names. But how do you use this wealth of aliens? Do you simply use the base aliens like Twi'leks and Zabraks in your back-story (boring!), or do you delve into the expanse of creatures at your disposal? Let us know how adventurous you get in back-story.
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Good evening, readers. Let me begin, by saying this is not Johnathon Claytan. Your "Hero" has taken an extended vacation to all points nowhere, leaving me to write his column for him. And I will start by getting one thing straight. Claytan has been lying to you. All these fearsome beasts he claims are the most deadly in the galaxy: they aren't. The Gundark, the Rancor, the Zillo Beast even, they pale in comparison to the real challenge. The challenge, Johnathon Claytan was not man enough to face. He may have hunted down the legendary Greater Krayt Dragon, hardly an impressive feat to me, as I managed it also, but there is game in the galaxy that people are willing to pay far more for than a Krayt Dragon pearl.
Game that is smarter than a Gundark, can provide more destructive power than a herd of Rancors, and in some circumstances can single handedly wipe out an entire ecosystem. And over the next weeks, I will take you through my hunt. The hunt for the single deadliest creature in the galaxy. The most dangerous game to have ever existed. I will take you through my hunt, for man.
Stress. The outcome of exams, internal politics, deadlines, overdue work, and pretty much every obligation in the world. It's hell, and it can really put a damper on someone's week, or semester, or work day. So how do you deal with it? Do you have a little fluffy wookiee you keep on your desk and squeeze it every time you get stressed? Long walks on the promenade are also a good way of dealing with problems; a chance to think them over. Relaxing baths are a personal favorite. Because if you don't deal with stress, it can build up on you. You can miss deadlines, flunk exams, and hand in shoddy work because you were too stressed to do it properly.
Stress always increases. Like entropy. Left to its own devices, it builds up in the back of your mind until you're about as useful as soggy broccoli. The only way to get rid of it is to deal with it. And sometimes, burying your head in a pillow is not enough to make the nagging voices in your head go away.
Today's Force Reflection: How do you deal with stress?
Now, my dear readers, I will not weave the fallacy that the best weapons are a must to be successful in a hunt. I have met many veteran hunters who have earned their fair share of trophies through a combination of luck, improvisation, and skill. I myself have told you many stories about how I have felled the greatest beasts with my lucky hunting knife, which is no more exciting nor technical than a stick. I have killed Rancors using the trophies of other fallen kills, tackled Sleen with my bare hands, and faced off against a Gundark with a stick. If you must know, I was not successful in killing said Gundark with said stick. A bigger one came along and did that for me.
But with all that said, I have no higher recommendation for hunters than to maintain and love their weapons. Matilda, my favourite hunting rifle, is not exactly a highly technical model, but it is true, and she has been faithful to me for many a year. Matilda is a double-barrelled slug-thrower, with an ironsight, bolt action reloading, a high calibre, and a long history with me. She is the third dearest thing to me in the galaxy, and it is for that reason that she has never failed me. Even when seemingly damaged beyond repair, I have always rebuilt her, and she has always been true to me. And now, I will take you through choosing your own weapon worthy for the hunt.
Money, Money, Money. Must be funny. (In a rich man's world).
Its true, people will go to great lengths for little chips of metal that they have been told are worth something. Abba came up with a list of potential ideas, from marrying a wealthy man (and then presumably divorcing him and taking half, or using the life insurance hitman combo to get it all plus extra) to gambling what they had to get more. Not a very good plan, I don't think. But its a plan nonetheless.
So with those two examples stolen from one song, I've established without any doubt that there are people who will do a lot for money. But there are also those who don't care that much. Folk who gave away their net worth to charity. Jedi. The sort. So where do you fall on the scale? How much are you willing to risk for a chocolate biscuit? How far will you go for money?
Sometimes, in the wild, getting from point A to point B is not as simple as just hopping on a speeder and traveling straight to your destination. Where do I begin on how many problems there are with such amateur choices of transportation? Close trees can end your journey in a fireball; the terrain is rough and maintaining a steady course will so very often be difficult, and lets not forget the dangers of the environment: cold, heat, and high humidity, or downpours can put your journey short. So there is an alternative.
This alternative is to use a riding beast. Few hostile environments won't have a beast of burden adapted to it that can't carry your loads, some of which, like the Alderaanian Thranta, can even fly you to your destination. If you're like me, you will use a riding beast whenever possible, but it is always necessary to know which animal to use in which situation, and of course bear the ability to ride upon its back, and tame it so it will permit you to perform this feat. You can't rely on force to bow a beast, as they are often proud creatures. Instead, a gentle but firm hand, and a fond, kind control will lead you forward.
To begin, I will match up a few ideal beasts to their environments. I've already mentioned the Thranta, which due to extradition and tough export laws will only be found on Alderaan, but will always be the number one choice on this Core World. Then there is the Varactyl, a speedy quadruped that is well suited for jungles and humid environments, hopping across damp rocks and through trees to bring you safely to your destination. Found on Utapau, having a loyal Varactyl as a mount is a wise investment.
Ryloth is my home. I've said it before, and chances are I'll say it again before I die: I wasn't born there, no. But a Twi'lek shaman once told me, "Ryloth would not let me die." And such a honour is one I am prepared to repay in full. It all began with a creature I still see in my dreams. There are more dangerous and more fearsome creatures in the galaxy, yes, but the Lylek was not only the most dangerous and most fearsome on Ryloth, but the first I ever faced, when I was no more than a Corporal in the Grand Army of the Republic, back in the days before the Sith Empire and the war. Back before I had been honoured with the surname "Claytan" by the same shaman that had bestowed upon me the planet's protection. Back when I was Johnathon Lepps, beardless, patriotic, and a killer of men.
You would probably wonder why I am telling you this. It may not seem relevant to the guide on how to kill Lyleks. But the situation I was in is important. It shows that anyone who is in such a dire situation can have the will and strength to stand up and defend their friends and total strangers against a terror beyond that they had ever seen before. I didn't know how to kill Lyleks back then. I didn't even know what a Lylek was. But when the push came to shove, I was able to do what I now do professionally.
Good. Evil. Ying, yang. Black and white, right and wrong. Ant and Dec. The world is full of opposites, and we're supposed to differentiate between them. Many philosophers have spent their lives debating these things. So do lawyers. But in the crux of the matter, what one person sees as right, another might see as wrong. And then in come the shades of grey. The fuzzy lines between the opposites, the middle ground, the no man's land. And they are different shades for everyone.
Here comes the question, and I know you've all been dying
to hear it: what are your morals? Your ethics? Your conscience? What do you see as right or wrong? We all know BioWare
has a rather bizarre idea of it. After all, how is performing a legitimate act of war during a war evil, whilst attacking a moon (And upsetting the tidal patterns possibly killing billions) is the good option? But what are your views? Where does your moral compass point?
And to think, I almost got through this article without once mentioning fifty shades.