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(OOC: This is an open thread and I don't mind if anyone jumps in, just keep in mind that this is No-Death, in the event this does turn into a PvP rather than an adventure. Also, if you do join, please please please use correct grammar.)
Tatooine. You could find three things in large supply here: illegal weapons, con men, and sand. That last part drove Nero mad. After every trip to the dust ball he ended up finding grains of sand in his boots for weeks to come, and as such he tried to avoid the place as much as possible. But his trip here today had a purpose, and if it fanned out it would make Nero a very happy man. The small city of Mos Kora was housed amongst an outcropping of rocks, and combine that with the walls built around the city and the local militia, it was one of the few places that were actually safe on the planet. Or, at least, as safe as one could be on Tatooine.
His hat keeping the sun out of his eyes, the old man looked about the city, examining the local populace. There was an even mixture of humans, Rodians, Twi'leks and various other aliens walking about, and there were several droids: protocol, astromech, all sorts of droids wandering the town, and then their was the local militia. The Sand People, as the Tatooine populace liked to call them, traveled close to Mos Kora, and as such the locals organized a militia to defend the city. The Mos Kora Militia was decently-armed, most of them carrying high-powered blaster rifles, even setting up turrets along the walls to defend against the Tusken Raiders.
Along with defense from external threats, the Militia was also to work as peace-keepers in Mos Kora, by patrolling the streets looking for wrong-doers, keeping a watch out in the Spaceport, and they even worked a small jail in the city, which they used to house low-lives until something could be done with them. All around, it was a nice little city, but it was still Tatooine. Smugglers, bounty hunters, mercenaries, spice dealers, they all frequented Mos Kora just like they do any city, and with sandstorms and Tusken raids, it was still dangerous. At least Nero didn't have to constantly watch his back here.
Coming upon a small building with the words 'Gourd's Groto' written in Aurebesh, Nero knew this was the meeting place and entered in. Passing the doors, the old smuggler got a big whiff of the establishment, which wreaked of alcohol and bodily fluids. Approaching the bar, a young, blond-haired man was manning the bar. Getting his attention, Nero spoke. "Hey kid, Gourd here?" He asked impatiently. The kid shook his head. "Nah, the boss ain't here." He said rudely. Gritting his teeth, Nero reached over the bar and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here, son. Before I have to teach you some manners, why don't you take me to Gourd?" He said, twisting his head as he growled at the kid.
Dropping him down, the kid looked a little shaken as he left the bar area. Motioning for Nero to follow, the old guy started after him as he was taken into a back room. There, he found Gourd, a fat, old Rodian man, playing cards with another old man. The Rodian looked up to Nero, and stood up, before looking to his guest. [Please excuse me.] He stated in Huttese. The man nodded, got up, and left the room. Nero watched him leave, then turned back to the old guy. "Long time, no see Gourd." The Rodian let out a belly-laugh and he motioned for Nero to sit.
[Ahh, yes, it has been quite a while since your last bar fight here, hasn't it? How have you been, Nero?] Nero cleared his throat before he replied. "I appreciate the concern for my well-being Gourd, but you know that's not why I came here." He cut right to the chase. He wanted answers, answers which Gourd had. Gourd nodded his head. [Yes, yes. Imperial prison transfers are a hard thing to monitor, but luckily for you I recently had a pair of Imperial prison shuttle pilots stop by here as their ship refueled.] He cut off. Nero lifted an eyebrow, curious to why he stopped.
"Go on." He urged. Gourd put his hands to his face as he shook his head. [My apologies, friend. Something has been troubling me, and I desire a solution to the problem.] Nero sighed. He didn't have time for this. "We've been friends for a long-time Gourd, and if you have any information on Sera, I need it." Still, Gourd shook his head. [Please, Nero. Two days ago, a young girl, a young Jedi Padawan by the looks of her, stumbled into here, rambling on about revenge and the Sand People, and going out into the Jundland Wastes. She left, and has yet to return. There are no cities around here which someone can reach within four or five days on foot, so I fear the worst.]
Nero knew what Gourd was trying to say. If Nero found the Padawan, he'd tell the rest of his story about the whereabouts of his daughter. "Normally I wouldn't do this, but since we've been friends for a while Gourd, I'll look for her. I don't know if I'll find her, but when I get back you had better finish your story." The old Rodian smiled, or at least, what seemed to be a smile. [I knew I could count on you, old friend. I will keep my promise, just, please, try to bring her back.] With that, Nero stood and headed back out the door. This was going to be a long day.
Tatooine. You could find three things in large supply here: illegal weapons, con men, and sand. That last part drove Nero mad. After every trip to the dust ball he ended up finding grains of sand in his boots for weeks to come, and as such he tried to avoid the place as much as possible. But his trip here today had a purpose, and if it fanned out it would make Nero a very happy man. The small city of Mos Kora was housed amongst an outcropping of rocks, and combine that with the walls built around the city and the local militia, it was one of the few places that were actually safe on the planet. Or, at least, as safe as one could be on Tatooine.
His hat keeping the sun out of his eyes, the old man looked about the city, examining the local populace. There was an even mixture of humans, Rodians, Twi'leks and various other aliens walking about, and there were several droids: protocol, astromech, all sorts of droids wandering the town, and then their was the local militia. The Sand People, as the Tatooine populace liked to call them, traveled close to Mos Kora, and as such the locals organized a militia to defend the city. The Mos Kora Militia was decently-armed, most of them carrying high-powered blaster rifles, even setting up turrets along the walls to defend against the Tusken Raiders.
Along with defense from external threats, the Militia was also to work as peace-keepers in Mos Kora, by patrolling the streets looking for wrong-doers, keeping a watch out in the Spaceport, and they even worked a small jail in the city, which they used to house low-lives until something could be done with them. All around, it was a nice little city, but it was still Tatooine. Smugglers, bounty hunters, mercenaries, spice dealers, they all frequented Mos Kora just like they do any city, and with sandstorms and Tusken raids, it was still dangerous. At least Nero didn't have to constantly watch his back here.
Coming upon a small building with the words 'Gourd's Groto' written in Aurebesh, Nero knew this was the meeting place and entered in. Passing the doors, the old smuggler got a big whiff of the establishment, which wreaked of alcohol and bodily fluids. Approaching the bar, a young, blond-haired man was manning the bar. Getting his attention, Nero spoke. "Hey kid, Gourd here?" He asked impatiently. The kid shook his head. "Nah, the boss ain't here." He said rudely. Gritting his teeth, Nero reached over the bar and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here, son. Before I have to teach you some manners, why don't you take me to Gourd?" He said, twisting his head as he growled at the kid.
Dropping him down, the kid looked a little shaken as he left the bar area. Motioning for Nero to follow, the old guy started after him as he was taken into a back room. There, he found Gourd, a fat, old Rodian man, playing cards with another old man. The Rodian looked up to Nero, and stood up, before looking to his guest. [Please excuse me.] He stated in Huttese. The man nodded, got up, and left the room. Nero watched him leave, then turned back to the old guy. "Long time, no see Gourd." The Rodian let out a belly-laugh and he motioned for Nero to sit.
[Ahh, yes, it has been quite a while since your last bar fight here, hasn't it? How have you been, Nero?] Nero cleared his throat before he replied. "I appreciate the concern for my well-being Gourd, but you know that's not why I came here." He cut right to the chase. He wanted answers, answers which Gourd had. Gourd nodded his head. [Yes, yes. Imperial prison transfers are a hard thing to monitor, but luckily for you I recently had a pair of Imperial prison shuttle pilots stop by here as their ship refueled.] He cut off. Nero lifted an eyebrow, curious to why he stopped.
"Go on." He urged. Gourd put his hands to his face as he shook his head. [My apologies, friend. Something has been troubling me, and I desire a solution to the problem.] Nero sighed. He didn't have time for this. "We've been friends for a long-time Gourd, and if you have any information on Sera, I need it." Still, Gourd shook his head. [Please, Nero. Two days ago, a young girl, a young Jedi Padawan by the looks of her, stumbled into here, rambling on about revenge and the Sand People, and going out into the Jundland Wastes. She left, and has yet to return. There are no cities around here which someone can reach within four or five days on foot, so I fear the worst.]
Nero knew what Gourd was trying to say. If Nero found the Padawan, he'd tell the rest of his story about the whereabouts of his daughter. "Normally I wouldn't do this, but since we've been friends for a while Gourd, I'll look for her. I don't know if I'll find her, but when I get back you had better finish your story." The old Rodian smiled, or at least, what seemed to be a smile. [I knew I could count on you, old friend. I will keep my promise, just, please, try to bring her back.] With that, Nero stood and headed back out the door. This was going to be a long day.
