The Bat Cave 2.0

[TheWonderousBat]

Ajax Kraith Plot - Theory crafting.

Thread 1 - Secure the family business from nearby competitor through any means necessary.
Required - Family to compete with. Possible mercenary/bounty hunter/other Onderon family.

Thread 2 - Secure the holdings of a business claiming "bankruptcy." Claim the goods, credits or stock before anyone else hears of the matter.
Required - Possible competitor going for the same stock.

Thread 3 - Secure a Ship for transporting off-world, -OR- secure an alliance with the owner of a freighter.
Required - Pilot/Smuggler/Transporter.

Thread 4 - Secure alliances on Onderon.
Required - Other Onderonians.

Thread 5 - Expansion. Branch out into other areas of interest, specifically the shipment of arms and armour to be sold to the Onderonian military/police force.
Required - Contact selling arms/armour. Contact in the Onderonian military/police.

Thread 6 - Competition. Fight off local competition, be it pirates, poachers or another business muscling in.
Required - Competition!

Thread 7 - Gamble. Talk of an illegal shipment of Onderonian weapons from a corrupt military source reaches Ajax. His patriotic duty is to stop (and sell back) the arms.
Required - Corrupt Officer, mercenaries.

Thread 8 - Ball. Host a ball/party to rub elbows with the Highborn, work on contacts. Seek a spy within the Highborn society.
Required - Spy. Open thread.

See where it goes from there.

 

[TheWonderousBat]

Luther Tanner Plot - Theory Crafting
Plot Outline Submission Template:

1. What is going to happen in your plot?
A Duros Bounty Hunting family are behind on their courtesy payments to the Cartel. The Hutt have let this slide more than once, but with rumours of them running smuggling operations on the side prove too much. Besadi are sent in to set things right and prove, once again, why you don't mess with Hutts.

2. What other players will be a part of this?
Victor Tanner
Jack Lawson (@Faster Than Light)
Valoc Nabano (@HospitalityUnkn0wn )
Preyt Jhess (@Versok )
Casta Mere (@Minuteman75 )
Kidd (@Painus )

3. Where are all the places (if more than one) that your plot will be taking place?
1) Nar Shaddaa - Safehouse, Streets and Spaceport.

4. Please provide a basic in-character timeline of what you expect to happen.
Thread One - The Call to Arms. The motley crew is gathered together and briefed on the situation. Drinks are shared, each gets to know one another, and the plan is hashed out.

Thread Two - The Hunt. A Slicer (@Faster Than Light) manages to locate their docking bay. The Besadi are sent out to a Cantina they are known to frequent with intentions of following them back to the Docking Bay. DM Required for the Duros.

Thread Three - Payment Due. The Besadi, with help from their Slicer, make entry into the Docking Bay. Their entrance goes unnoticed for all of about three seconds, before hell breaks loose. They have to either gun down the Duros, or cover their Slicer to get to the Docking Computer and lock their takeoff sequence. Once the Duros are made an example of, the Ship and it's contents are the Besadi's to keep.

5. What do you or your character hope to achieve with this plot? What is the "end-game"?
Victor - A Nerf-Herder Light Freighter with a cargo hold of (empty) Data-Vaults.
Jack Lawson - Spoofer, some (empty) Data-Vaults.
Others - tbc.
Opportunity to acquire any non-advanced weapon.

Bounty of 20,000 Credits per confirmed Duros killed.

6. Do you need any involvement of canon NPCs or faction leaders to be DMed by a staff member? If so, please detail who/what and for what purpose.
DM Required for Duros NPC's in Thread One and Thread Two.

 

[TheWonderousBat]

Isshiroh Rorraykk

AGE
► 53
SPECIES
► Wookie
HEIGHT
► 7"4
WEIGHT
► 478lbs
EYE COLOR
► Brown
FUR COLOR
► Black.
HOMEWORLD
► Kashyyyk
GENDER
► Male
FACTION
► Exile
RANK
► Apprentice
FORCE SENSITIVITY
► Yes

ROOTS

Vicious.
Feral.
Madclaw.

These are the words my kin call me. Every syllable drips with fear, with horror spat through clenched teeth. They feared me, my Powers, my strength. They came with club and chain, speaking of judgement by the Elders, so I bled them. Cast down to the Shadows below, my claws slick with the blood of my clan. I cared not for their judgement, in the Shadows I was truly free to hunt, to kill, to feed the hole within my soul.

Days turn to weeks, which turn to months, which turn to years. Each day I stalked the twisted roots, my Power growing unchecked and uncontrolled. Soon enough, the stench of those who plague my race came from above, slowly wafting down as they came to the Shadows, to my land. Betrayed once again by those who call themselves clan, they came in the night to tie me in chains and take me from my home. I fight, but I realise there are too many as the blackness takes me.

SLAVE

I awake to strange smells, to pain and suffering. It fills me more than any meal has, satisfying more than any hunt could. Chains, sand and blood. Those who took me goad me with whip and club, making me fight in their sand. They are fools to think their pain causes me to fight, I do it for the sport. To feed.

Years pass again. I was fought their strongest, yet now I fight nothing but scraps. Like me, they are cast out from their tribe for crimes. Like me, they are sentenced, yet they are weak. I break them, day after day I break them. I feel the pain of their weapons, yet it does not stop me. I lose my eye, yet it does not stop me. I would have fought and fed until the breath left me, until I returned to Shadows.

MASTER

In the night they come again, the sounds of battle echoing around my sand. They slaughter those who take us, their weapons bright and hot. Chains are broken, their weapons blink and the light dies. They speak to me without words, their minds smell my Power. They try to calm me, the current within slowing as they show me things. More like me, more with the 'Force', together and fighting. Such a group would be unstoppable, their Force giving them power the greatest of my Clans hunters could only dream of. I go where told, sit where told as they take me away. Even on these great hunters, the smell of fear lingers as they watch me.

They take me through the stars to their army. The smell is strange to me, a mix of fear and peace. Their lands are strange to me, cold and without soul. They call themselves my 'Master' once more, teach me the ways of their Force. They show me how to control, but I feel their fear still. They try make me a slave, but I feel their fear still. I did not let them take my Force away. My 'Masters' speak in hushed tones of another group, of ones who do not follow these strange ways. They speak of war, of passion, of anger and hunger. I think I serve the wrong Masters, the ones who want to control me. I am no creature to be tamed, no pet to hold in chain. I break my chains once more, to the bed of those who seek to tame me. They find out why my Clan called me Madclaw, why they called me feral. I take their weapons and flee their fortress.

Now I hunt the new Masters. If they are no different, they will bleed like the rest.

GEAR

- Lightsaber

​

 

[TheWonderousBat]

NAME: Borga the Hutt
AGE: 83
SPECIES: Hutt

FACTION: Hutt Cartel
RANK: Basadi Agent

HEIGHT: 7"3
WEIGHT: Light (For a Hutt)
EYE COLOR: Orange


STRENGTH:
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DEXTERITY:
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STAMINA:
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CUNNING:
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WISDOM:
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CHARISMA:
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Biography Appearance Personality Threads Close

• Borga was raised as any other Hutt would be, on the sprawling and pestilent world of Nal Hutta. Born to a line of Hutt indebted to Supreme Mogul Gulla, Borga knew a life of submission from when he could first move on his own. Strong-armed into a life of servitude by the greater power of the Supreme Mogul, his mother did not last long after Borga was spawned. The smaller Hutt youngling was cast to the kitchens of the Palace, a life of cooking for his betters laid in wait for the growing Hutt. Resigned to hit fate Borga did as commanded, ever watching with guarded envy from the small window of the Kitchen.
  
  One day, Borga realised that the window could be used for more than just hungry grumbles and silent protests. At a particularly tense meeting of Bounty Hunters and the Hestilic Vigo, Borga adopted his usual groove as he watched the proceedings. The angle of the window allowed him to see under the grand banquet table of the hall, the glint of several blasters being slowly drawn catching his eye more than the luxurious food he had just prepared. Realising what would happen, Borga made his way to the room as fast as he possibly could. Bursting in he warned the Hestilic Vigo breathlessly, the Bounty Hunters giving shouts of 'lies' and 'slander.' Sure enough, the Vigo checked the security feed and saw the danger he was saved from. The Bounty Hunters and Head of Security were all thrown into the fighting pit as punishment.
  
  Borga on the other hand was praised for his diligence, applauded by the few low-level Besadai in the room at the time. The Hestilic Vigo offered opportunity as form of thanks. A camera was installed, the monitor positioned in his favoured groove so he could cook and watch at the same time. Borga was charged as another line of defence within the Palace of the Supreme Mogul, even if it was just watching from his Kitchen.
  
  It didn't take long for him to figure out the information he learned watching could be used in his own way.
• Borga is thin for a Hutt, his life spent cooking for others as opposed to enjoying the decadence he was brought up around. His skin was a mix of sickly green and mottled pale on the underside, his tail longer than other Hutts due to his underweight nature. His arms were longer too, allowing him to reach ingredients within the kitchen with ease. His beady orange eyes were wandering and piercing, too long spent envious watching other Hutts.
• Borga knows his place in life, a servant of those with greater power. Just because he knows his place though, does not mean he is happy with it. Ambitious, devious and selfish to the core, Borga would not think twice about sinking another sentient to gain praise himself. His calculating mind is always churning new ideas out as he works away in his kitchens, one eye on the monitor at all times.
• TITLE — Short description [LINK] ● (thread status)
  
• .

Template by @ZayPat​

 

[TheWonderousBat]

NAME: Victor Tanner
AGE: 24
SPECIES: Human

FACTION: Hutt Cartel
RANK: Besadi

HEIGHT: 176cm
BUILD: Lean
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Green
FORCE: No


STRENGTH:
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DEXTERITY:
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STAMINA:
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INTELLIGENCE:
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WISDOM:
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CHARISMA:
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Biography Appearance Personality Assets Close

• Born and raised in the seedier parts of the galaxy, Victor has always had to rely on his wits to scrape a living. Sarcasm is his main source of enjoyment, though he has been known to push it too far at points, earning him his fair share of canteen bust-ups and back alley brawls. Stubborn as they come, he will rarely give up once he sets his mind to a task. The hard part is however setting his mind to said task, having seen enough of the galaxy to want for neither fame nor honour, and prefers to be paid in cold hard creds, or something that will put him ahead of others of his kinds.
  
  As soon as he could Victor took work from a crew running out of Nar Shaddaa for a local import export specialist. Picking up tricks of the trade at a swift rate, he quickly proved his worth at pulling his weight. A fast talker and a creative mind allowed he and the crew he worked with to get out of a few sticky situations, earning himself a little recognition among the close-knit network. Thinking that he was a rising star, a prodigy to the game of smuggling, Victor swiftly took the opportunity to secure himself a ship to work independently.
  
  Faced with the wide galaxy, his blaster and his clunky ship, Victor set to work shifting small time contraband in the Outer Rims. As any who do such work come to realise, the Hutt Cartel was truly the boss of the market. While on a Spice run from the Core, he overheard talk of a sizeable amount of credits being plied towards quite, reliable and loyal people who knew how to not ask questions. Picking up a shipment of Spice to make the long ride worth while, he made his way to Hutt space.
• Victor was a fairly average for a human in the Outer Rim territories, though carried himself with a cocksure swagger to put most to shame. His skin was pale and drawn, hanging from his sinewy muscles like snow. He had spent too long on the streets and in the spaceports of various planets to grow fat and lazy as some of the more affluent of the galaxy, his life spent on the move from job to job. His close cropped dark hair was kept relatively short on the sides, the top slicked back. His scraggly beard was trimmed neatly, a large scar down his right cheek parting the hair. Usually clad in a simple black vest over the top of his shirt, he clattered around in hefty boots fitting of a dock-worker. At his side rested a blaster in it's holster, a black leather strapping tucked under his arm to keep it securely in place. He rarely carried little more, leaving the rest of his belongings secure on his ship. He often wore a large bantha-hide bomber jacket, bulking him out much more than he actually was.
• With a general up-beat outlook, nothing is too overwhelming to break his spirit, least not that he has encountered so far. While preferring his own company most of the time, he will always look for a friend if the job proves too much, at the right price of course. While not overly selfish, he will always look out for himself first, however he is a great believer in everyone getting their fair share if they pull their weight.
• Lucky Jacket
  K-6 Light Armour - Orange and Black (Will specify in thread when worn.)
  PDS-R1 Blaster Rifle - Two additional Powerpacks. (Will specify in thread when carried.)
  CZBP-9 Blaster Pistol - Four additional Powerpacks.
  Model 1-48 Stun Baton
  The Hog
  Whistles - MR Series Astromech (Co-Pilot)
  
• .

Template by @ZayPat​

 

[TheWonderousBat]

NAME: Character Ajax Kraith
AGE: 44
SPECIES: Human Onderonian

FACTION: Independent
OCCUPATION: Business Man

HEIGHT: 181cm (5"11)
BUILD: Thin
HAIR COLOR: Greying Black
EYE COLOR: Hazel
FORCE: No


STRENGTH:
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DEXTERITY:
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STAMINA:
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INTELLIGENCE:
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WISDOM:
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CHARISMA:
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Biography Appearance Personality Assets

• Born to the Lowborn family Kraith, Ajax learnt from an early age that if you ever want anything in life, you had to earn it yourself. Son to Mikkel Kraith, a middling bushiness owner with roots in fabric processing and manufacturing from within the Onderon jungles, Ajax was set from birth in inherit his family business. His schooling was basic, as most was on Onderon, covering reading, writing and basic mathematics. The rest of his knowledge was gained from working side by side with his father since the age of ten.
  
  Raised in a small hab-unit near the southern market of Iziz, Ajax was no stranger to forays out into the dangerous jungles of Onderon. The Kraith farming and processing plant, little more than a collection of durasteel containers with a small staff working long hours to meet orders, was focused solely on the manufacturing of Coarseweave. The fabric was made processed from flora local to Onderon and used widely throughout the galaxy for both clothing and medical bandages. Certainly not sought after for it's luxury, the Kraith family was a single drop in a very big ocean of the fabric producing business.
  
  Ajax swiftly took to the world of business, altering his fathers work to streamline the process. Changing from Tee-musstransportation to Speeder was one of many such alterations, speeding up the process tenfold. He immersed himself fully to the life he was given, his sole aim to expand and grow the business until his family could live without worrying about their next meal.
  
  When his father passed, Ajax had just crested forty-four years of age. Already an old hand at the fabric-business, Ajax saw potential in the courts of Onderon. With the Naddist Uprising a sting to the Highborn families still to heal, he saw it as a time of potential for the Kraith family. With ambitions well beyond his station, Ajax set to work as the sole proprietor of the Kraith business, he aimed to carve his name on the very steps to the Palace.
  
  It was time the Kraith rose from the jungles, whatever the cost.
• Ajax Kraith was an ageing man. His once lustrous black hair was streaked with silver and grey from a life of stresses. He was a thin man, his skin bronzed from years working in the jungles of Onderon. His face was marred with a deep scar on either side of his mouth, a reminder of the price for tangling with poachers.
  He often wore a Coarseweave suit and waistcoat, the grey fabric the work of his families processing plant. He carried himself with dignity, each movement measured and deliberate. A cool and calculating mind saw Ajax through most situations, a deep web of alternate plans always tangled within his mind. Rarely made a fool of he took his time we each decision. Though he had the cold heart needed to make waves in business, he cared deeply for those who worked with him. As his father once told him, a happy worker is a productive worker, but for him the family took precedence. Nothing would stop him from obtaining his goal.
• A man who learned that a ruthless nature was required in any business venture, Ajax has kept the lesson to heart. While he maintains his cutthroat tactics in the boardroom, he realises that a happy worker is a efficient worker. A fair and just man when it comes to most matters outside of stocks, he finds maintaining friendships easy, as well as making new ones.
• Kraith Family Coarseweave Processing Plant - Location: Onderon Jungle
  2-L Blaster Rifle - Will specify when carried[tab=Close].[/tab]

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