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The Birth of Howlrunner Squad (Star Wars RP)

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by kanila, May 21, 2017.

  1. kanila kanila Subordinate

    A sparkling jewel set amongst the stars, Issagra Space Station was a small beacon of light in the Outer Rim territory. With all the glamour and bluster it still remained firmly in the hands of the criminal underbelly of the Galaxy. Able to accommodate roughly 10,000 people at any given time, the station was always buzzing with activity, some legal while most fell into the illegal category. Everything was available here, from cantinas to gambling, if someone had a vice it was found on Issagra Station.

    @Kalle @Casavay @bossaroo
    Docking in bay A113, the crew of the Crimson Blur was making ready for some much needed shore leave while their ship was inspected and refueled. A perfect opportunity to blow off some steam and possibly finding a new shipment to make some extra credits. Luckily for them this wasn't there first visit to Issagra Station and they knew just the cantina, The Blue Harvest. Meanwhile standing in front of The Blue Harvest an old battered B2 Battle Droid stood as a sign to any would be troublemaker that they would be dealt with severely.

    In another section of the space station a mandolorian bounty hunter just exited one of the many casino bosses offices with a cool 500 credits, mere chump change, but he couldn't expect much cleaning up the poor souls with uncollected debt. If he wanted to get back to the bigger, higher profile hunts he needed to find a ship heading out. There were a few places he could look, or he could cool down with a drink and hope something fell into his lap.

    In The Blue Harvest, in a secluded part of the cantina information was being shared of an ancient temple on a far off moon. The hushed conversation only heard by the two in conversation. An ancient fortress that had been consumed by the very jungle that hid it from prying eyes. Now he would have to seek passage aboard one of the countless ships to see if the information he gathered was accurate and truly worth his time.

    Arriving in dock D023 The Krayt Fang, a HWK-290's crew disembarked saying one final farewell to their only passenger before heading off to the shock boxing arena for Dagger Valentine's debut fight at Issagra Station. The barabel and the rest of the motley crew going ahead while the captain stayed with his ship to oversee the repairs himself. The small Jawa named Aziz made one final wave before disappearing under the ship to begin his own checks. The young Ipharian-Da'Lor being drawn here by for some unknown reason felt the pull once more. Though this was the first time stepping foot, or rather tail, onto Issagra Station he moved with a purpose, as if he traveled this path many times before. Finally stopping in front of a cantina called The Blue Harvest. Would he follow the guidance that had gotten him this far? Or would he fold and call it quits?

    With all the players in place the tale of the birth of Howlrunner Squad was just beginning. Only time would tell what would happen, but the possibilities were near endless.
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  2. Bossaroo bossaroo Well-Known Member

    In front of the The Blue Harvest stood an imposing sight. The Weather Old B2 unit stood guard infront of the infront of the cantina and whilst its chasis may have been covered in dark spots where blaster bolts had scorched the duranium it still stood solidly. Accompaning the scorch marks accross it were snall decals , names of droid fighting rings , symbols of small gangs that had held possession of the droid, and some other small names the most recent of which being a small logo of the current catina it worked at on its knee but on its shoulder though faded with age yet still worn with whatever passed as pride was the symbol of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the droid's past on display. Its right arm folded upwards to stow the wrist mounted blasters coupled with all before left the droid an imposing figure in the Cantina helping to keep the peace.

    Whilst the Battledroid appeared a terrifying Stalwart and attentive guardian it mind , since given sentience by a mechanic its mind wandered with stray thoughts, why did organics indulge in drink and spices if it so thoroughly destroyed their form ? What brought them to the station ? Did each have a story ? The droids simple processors could hardly understand the questions let alone answer them , not designed to ever comprehend strategy let along lifes great questions. The Droid idly nodded at all who entered the cantina a deep bass voice coming from it as they entered "behave yourselves"
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  3. Kal Kalle Arkhona Vanguard

    Docking Bay A113
    Issagra Space Station

    The loading ramp hissed, before it gracelessly fell down to the floor with a massive metallic 'clank', and the stink of Issagra wafted into the spaceship. It bore the exotic scents of oils, industrial lubricants, burnt metal, and sweaty dock workers. Captain Kina Ven received a faceful of this potent mix, and her first instinct was to take a deep whiff of it. Her second instinct was to gag. Having breathed only filtered starship air for the last standard day does that to you.

    Stepping down the ramp, the captain's black synthleather boots touched unmoving space station floor. While it did not give the same sense of grounding as touching solid earth did, there was nonetheless that feeling of being ashore, of standing somewhere that was not going to move, no matter how much one willed it. That, too, was a mixed feeling for the spacer. Normally, she would have stepped some meters away from the ship, turned around, and simply watched the workers attend to her old girl. She had inherited the Blur from an old man, and she could only hope to treat the ship with the same reverence he had.

    Today, however, the Blur's present captain was preoccupied with other things. She idly checked her personal weapons. Issagra was no kind mistress and to dance with her could end in blood. A vibroknife was sheathed at her waist, over the small of her back. Her DL-44 was holstered. If worst came to worst, her nails had drawn blood before --- natural weapons she'd never really cared to file down; that was a luxury she'd neither afforded nor craved.

    Banishing the sulking thoughts from her mind, at least for now, Kin'aven nonetheless turned and faced the Blur, even if delayed in her ritual. She waited half-way between the freighter and the exit to the docks. Her better half always needed some time to say her goodbyes. In spite of her foul mood, a small smile nonetheless tugged on the corner of the captain's lips at the thought.
  4. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    The Mandalorian sighed as he took a mental note of the credits; he kept his left arm resting at his belt like as he usually did, now making his way towards the docking bays - or the Cantina, he had no idea where to go.
    A few moments of decisionmaking went by before Valrin decided to make his way towards The Blue Harvest, little more than an unheard sigh in his helmet.
    His posture was a proud one; his chest held high, his chin up, each step taken with purpose. Even without the armour one could tell that this man was certainly proud of who he was; a Mandalorian. Of course, with how he looked around somewhat warily and keeping his eye out, it was clear that he still was, by nature, a Bounty Hunter. Checking where there might be potential big credit-earning, and so forth.

    Once there he took note of the B2 and his thoughts went back to the old vids regarding the past; such marvelous, brutish machines.... Ahh, well. He didn't waste much time thinking on it, merely giving a simple nod to the large 'bruiser' (He was sure it'd give more than a bruise), before making his way inside. From there, the armoured Bounty Hunter took his time in trying to find some pilot of a decent quality. If he wanted off this station, he had to get a way off; and muscling his way on board wouldn't work too well, he knew.
    A small, subconscious pat at one of the blaster pistols at his beltline, and he went to work searching, his own face hidden by the blackened T-visor, a muscled figure looking around the Cantina for someone who may not even be there.
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  5. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    "Hah, chuba, I love the smell of this place", spoke Kin'aven's worse half as she quickly moved down the ramp in a series of short leaps. "Smells like the industrial serf to the Blur's sophisticated lady, eh?" Swift as the Zelosian was, she quickly caught up with her captain and slung an arm around her neck forcefully, the bare, greenish skin rubbing on the rough fabric of the grey jumpsuit.

    Hanging her insignificant weight off her strong companion's neck, First Mate Zin Gallyd chuckled while they moved away from their vessel. It had taken a while for her to admit she'd have to leave it, but when she'd finally managed to explain the situation to the Crimson Blur, she took it like the classy lady that she is and elegantly accepted the circumstances - a fact that pleased Zin greatly. She was truly a wonderful ship to work with, with such a powerful, lovable character.

    Much like Ven, she too was armed, and not one to hide it; her free right hand never truly leaving the presence of her holster. Unlike Ven, though, she also radiated a twitchiness, an intrinsic unrest and speed that could put some people at unease given the fact she was carrying a gun. "Let's hope this bastard Issagra treats our Blur right, eh?" Still clutching her honour-sister, she shakes a fist at her general surroundings. "He better!"

    The botanical smuggler grinned at the colleague she was clutching. "Come to think of it, he better treat us right to! Last time I was here, the drinks sucked, and the food was worse!" She gave Kina a brief shake, pulling her towards herself gently. "I hope they fired that chef."
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  6. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    From the darkness of the cantina's interior, or perhaps from something else altogether, rose a shadowy figure and stepped into the frail light. Hidden still, his facial features barely revealed beneath the deep hood, the one who calls himself Varel Kor moved from one place to another, the drakeskin boots making little to no sound. Of course, in such a lively place one robed figure was hardly a sensation, the curious eyes not straying for too long on his form, but there was still something about the way he moved that betrayed him for the one who was used to remain in the background, always waiting, always watching.

    There was a purpose now, a journey ahead and a task yet to be completed. A place to be explored and a mystery uncovered. Of course, the information he gathered on it was scarce, even though there were hints of a location actually being there some doubts still lingered for a solid proof was not something he was able to acquire, not in this oppressive time when the knowledge of the true path was a closely guarded secret. Then again, he was versed enough in the ways of the Force to separate the flow of truth from the necessary lies and understand the "hints" that would point him in the right direction. And this was definitely a direction he should explore.

    But for that to happen, he needed a ship.

    Reaching the bar, Varel swiftly pulled out ten credits from the depths of his robe and place them in front of the bartender. "I'm looking for a captain of a ship experienced in transport of valuable cargo," Varel spoke, his voice firm and commanding, but framed in a way a local outlaw or a merchant dealing in forbidden spices would speak, him intentionally doing it so he could better fit the crowd.

    "Point me in the right direction and you'll be well compensated for your actions."
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  7. Wata Wata Arkhona Vanguard

    Parting from his past company of Krayt Fang's crew, gave Rtora a melancholic mood. He smiled and waved back at them, even going so far as to reveal his face to them when saying goodbyes. He hoped to see them again soon, friendly faces were too few for his liking.
    Putting his mask back on made him feel a little bit more safe, he brushed his finger over the tear he had painted under the left eyehole. He had many fond memories of his father and he was still mourning the loss. If it wasn't for his missing Masters help and the Force, he probably would have died to grief already. He checked his weaponry, the vibroblade hanging from his belt by its sheath at his lower back and the blaster under his jacket.
    Then there was the tug again, the gentle breeze behind his back, the unseen assuring hands on his shoulders. The Force was guiding him again and Rtora let it.

    In front of the cantina, Rtora paused. He looked at the patrons going in and out, trying to determine what kind of people went to these kinds of places. The droid door guard didn't look friendly. Still seemingly just doing his job Rtora didn't feel it'd be a threat, for now at least. Steeling himself, the young Ipharian moved inside.
    First things first he needed to not start a fight and to find a way of transportation. Perhaps someone had seen his Master pass through here, it was a slight hope but slight was better than none.

    Rtora moved over to the bar counter, the lighting of the place made his silver mask shine slightly. He was about to wave someone to talk to before he felt...another. Slowly he turned to look upon the robed figure, trying to not be too obvious. Rtora stared at him. This man felt the Force, just like he did. It didn't feel familiar, so his high hopes of seeing Ori again was shattered quickly. Still, he didn't look too friendly and there was something made the Ipharian uneasy.

    Rtora moved closer, trying to look inconspicuous while eavesdropping. He needed to ask something about the bartender anyway. Then it dawned on him, if Rtora can sense him so can the robed man sense the Ipharian. All the horror scenarios of being turned in for a bounty and being revealed as a Jedi ran through his mind. He hadn't even noticed how his hand had strayed to the blaster on his belt. Quickly he pulled his hand away and tried to focus his thoughts. He was way too young and nervous for this, Ori had mentioned this before to just calm oneself.

    Casually he tried to look about the bar while eavesdropping, to find any notable people to approach for information and transportation.
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  8. kanila kanila Subordinate

    Docking Bay A113

    @Kalle @Casavay
    The buzzing of workers and drones attending to the multitude of different of different vessels had the air ringing with a cacophony of sounds. To most who constantly worked in the docks it was nothing more than a subtle background noise that they had become accustomed to. To those not used to the lively atmosphere it seemed extremely chaotic, metal being hammered into place, torches sealing cracks, shouts of pain from an unlucky drall after slamming his head into the underside of a ship. All around them it seemed no one took any particular notice in them from any other of the countless crews entering or exiting Issagra Station.

    The Blue Harvest

    @bossaroo @Colapse @Wata @Vlayden

    The B2 saw all manner of life entering and exiting the cantina where he was currently working, as well as those enter the other establishments nearby. Though their activities perplexed the old droid no one was able to read his thoughts as most, if not all, assumed he was just reprogrammed to act as a bouncer. Such was the blessing and curse of his existence. Seeing a commotion further down the way, it would seem some of the organics had too much to drink and were being tossed out by a large herglic bouncer. Nothing that was an immediate threat to himself or The Blue Harvest but none the less he made more of those involved so he could keep them out.

    Inside The Blue Harvest the place was lively. Multiple holo-vids displayed different things of interest, some of things from around the galaxy, but most from right here on Issagra Station. The 'performer' behind the bar drawing the attention from more than a few of the patrons, whilst others talked and drank to their hearts content.
    Valrin could easily pick out a number of freighter pilots throughout the cantina, some he had seen before others that seemed new to the station. Though three stood out to him, a duro dressed in a well worn flight suit, with a padded white sleeveless vest. His well trained eyes picking up the handle of a blaster pistol that was slightly exposed while the duro drank and watched a holo-vid of a swoop race. The next was a human female that he recognized as a smuggler working for the Hutts that operated in and around the Issagra Station. Finally an aqualish who seemed to be arguing with a twi'lek about some sort of transaction. How he proceeded was up to him, of course with a station of this size he could also choose to look elsewhere if these captains weren't worthy of his time.

    Meanwhile across the cantina the grand bartender eyed the credits before wiping them from sight with his rag. Tossing it onto his shoulder he poured a short glass of Corellian Whiskey. "Well now that shouldn't be too hard stranger." Nodding towards a human female at one of the booths, "If you don't mind dealing with a smuggler that's on the Hutts beck and call she will move your valuable cargo... for a price." He shrugged his shoulders, "Honestly you can't throw a rock without hitting a pilot around this station." The gran not committing too much thought to it, after all it made things easier if he didn't know any details. Late to the discussion, Rtora merely picked up the hint that this robed figure was looking for a pilot, he had little to go on about this persons character. As Rtora looked around he made eye contact with the performer who winked before spiraling and twisting around the tank.
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  9. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    This is...unexpected.

    Varel tightened his jaw ever so slightly as he felt the presence of another Force user near him, a reptilian-like creature which just entered the bar and moved oh so inconspicuously towards him. It was obvious - like Varel, the newcomer also felt him. His first instinct was to disappear in the shadows however he was unsure of the newcomer's motives and allegiances, not to mention that he also needed to stay a bit in the cantina and find himself a transport, so fleeing was out of the question. An unfortunate development of fate, but nothing he couldn't turn to his own advantage and perhaps learn a thing or two. After all, that is what he was after.

    "I see," Varel replied to the bartender, his lips twisting into a friendly smile as he pulled out fifteen credits from his pocket, placing ten plus five separately in front of the man. "You've been most helpful. But may I ask for a final favor? That's an old friend of mine over there," he slightly nodded towards the snake creature (@Wata ), "Pour him the same thing you poured me."

    Taking the glass of Corellian Whiskey, without drinking it he moved back into the crowd and towards the boot where he was originally sitting while also making sure Rtora saw where he was heading. Hopefully, the stranger would be at least intrigued by Varel's gesture so he would seek him out.

    This was something he had to deal with before he finds himself a transport, the fact that made the Zabrak smile a bit more.

    Things got a lot more interesting...
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  10. Wata Wata Arkhona Vanguard

    Rtora got a bit confused from the performer's wink. He waved back a bit awkwardly at her (him?). Then a drink was served for, courtesy of the robed figure.
    "I-but I don't even drin-" The bartender had already turned his back to Rtora, focusing on other customers.
    His gaze fell on the man leaving the counter. Rtora took a deep breath, grabbed the drink and made his way after the robed figure. This couldn't be ignored even if he would want to.

    Once Rtora reached the table, he put the drink on it, pushed it toward the zabrak and glared with his bright blue innocent eyes.
    "I just want to talk, both of us know the risks of being exposed."
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