Ristéard stood at the edge of the landing platform watching as the Kassisan shuttle slowed for landing. He was an imposing sight. At close to seven feet of pure muscle, he carried an air of barely suppressed violence in his stance.
His light blue skin was swirled with darker blue tattoos that he wore proudly. He had earned each in either battle or competition against those who thought to take his title. Those who were stupid enough to dare either one died a slow, painful death. He did not show mercy to anyone, be they male or female. There had been three females who thought to take his place, one in battle, two by deceit. He had killed them as slowly as he had killed the numerous males who had tried. If they wished to cause him harm, he felt they deserved the same punishment.
His people
