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Draped in tattered, dirtied clothing, Krinn still didn't manage to stand out among the many visitors of the Taanab farmer's market. The fall harvest had drawn many to fairs across the planet's surface, eager to sell both crops and livestock alike. The market was growing increasingly crowded with...

[ open to anyone that might be on the planet ] He had been lucky, and not in one single way, either. Lucky that he was, for all intents and purposes, a nobody. Lucky that he managed to smuggle himself off of New Alderaan after the Sith Empire established their government, and lucky that he had...

In. He breathes. The smell of soot rests upon his tongue. The taste of burnt wood and ash. The remnants of fire that drift like shadowed dust into his lungs. Out. A ragged exhale, sharp and desperate, and the carbon carried with it the emotion of a man that had seen too much. Every step stirred...

Late morning in an Agamar spaceport...When he wakes, it's with a blinding headache. Krinn had intended to leave the port already, but his newfound tendency to get so entirely drunk that flying a starfighter would probably result in a dozen or so deaths, including his own, had left the Nautolan...

IN A SPACE-PORT ABOVE AGAMAR...He's out of fuel before he can reach Dantooine, even after making an attempt to cut through neutral space. It doesn't matter much, though. Krinn is no fool, he had accounted for this. Dark eyes glint in the light of the space port that hovers beyond Agamar's...

On the beach of Lay Pa-Sidian...Everything was a mess, really. He was a mess. His bruised shoulder still hurt, but at the very least, the medical personnel on Raxus had done well in caring for his burns. The Nautolan had such a bitter taste in his mouth after that encounter with the lightsaber...

Sleheyron might not have been the most inhospitable planet in the galaxy, but it certainly bore a rather foul appearance. Thankfully, civilization had crawled it's way across the planet's volcanic wasteland, and the world was busy with less reputable life. This was a planet of trade, and not...

As evening falls upon Coruscant...He's admittedly a bit agitated, because for all of his time spent on this blasted, waterless planet, where the dry air tastes as artificial as the lighting, he hadn't found so much as a hint of the item he was looking for, the entire reason he had been so...

On a rainy evening on Drumund KaasShadows dwell where the light dares not suffer. The dark street is slick with the fallen rain, puddles that glisten in the surrounding lights. There are no stars in the evening skies, just the glow of the city, and the looming clouds that shrouded damp greenery...