USH'S ORIGINAL TRILOGY GAME EPISODE I 'LANZAR'- Rebel Alliance Thread

Started by General Kaliero280 pages

Rhys leads Frank to the back of the cantina and sits in a corner to scope the building out, hoping that his reputation for trashing Jabba's Palace won't earn too much unneeded attention.

Frank notices how there are many other non-Osakans in the bar, and wonders whether this large a group, entering at once, would attract too much attention. Even if they split up and acted like they didn't know each other, anyone who had been watching before would be able to figure it out. After all, acting like you do not know someone else might be easy if you can act, but Frank knew that he had the same acting skills as a star destroyer. Of course, that was mostly due to the fact he wasn't really culturally adapted to the galaxy just yet: all of the standard body language and subconscious subtleties didn't mean anything to him, and he couldn't portray them too easily, either.

Still, in a sense, attention was what they were looking for, and so he just walked in with Rhys. Immediately, his nose wrinkled, and, sticking to the plan. He even went so far as to shoot a wary look at the others, before keeping bodyguard-style watch over Rhys. Then, he surveyed the bar, trying to spot, or scent out, any drinks he could safely drink, not taking anything by chance. The last time he'd ordered something randomly, he'd been handed a metal mug, filled with what appeared to be molten iron, mixed with sulphur, and with a light, and rapidly melting, dusting of cinnamon floating on the top. It hadn't been cheap, either...

He keeps one hand near a bolter at all times, and the other scratches his thick hide on the back of his neck, near his sword. "Yhru fsur whue woh gaie i' hrohu harae?" he asks, knowing that a few people could speak his tribal tongue- totally mutilated languages were often harder to decipher than flawlessly spoken and rare ones. And, it wasn't the risk of a fight that he was worrying about, it was more whether or not he would have to start using up valuable and oftentimes limited ammunition this soon after landing...

Rhys spend a few moments figuring out what Frank was saying, then shook his head. "Nah. Cantinas tend to be the best places to hide if you don't want to be noticed. Sure we'll be seen, but nearly everyone here is already so plastered that we won't be remembered. Just don't stare at anyone too long." Rhys pats Frank's armored shoulder in a reassuring gesture as he stands up to get a drink. "Be right back."

Rhys heads to the bar, keeping his eyes fixated on the bar's surface so as not to make eye contact with anyone who could possibly recognize him and start a scene. Whether someone wanted to have a laugh with him, or walk away with his head, neither was exactly good right now.

He catches the attention of the barkeeper with a slight nod. "You serve 'Flamin' Wookie' here?"

(If it's hard to get Galder drunk, imagine trying to get an Osokan drunk...)

Galahad approaches one of the Osokans, and makes an attempt at speaking to them in their own language.

"[Do you know if any one here at the starport could direct me to the location of the Senate meetings with Drakkon?]" Galahad asks.

You're not in the starport. It's also spectacularly inappropriate for you to go to a bar whilst here in an official capacity, so you are not there.

It's not at all difficult to find where the Senate is, especially as their ships (and various dignitaries amongst them) are parked all over the starport.

-

"I can set fire to a wookie pelt, if that'd do," says the barman. Barsokan. Whatever. He grins. "Coming up... what's the less squidgy one want?" he says, nodding towards Frank.

Savoir-Faire rolls wil help you fit in, but I'll need a more specific objective than "anyone who might be of help to the mission." There is no-one who is directly useful in that regard here.

You guys say the sort of thing you want to get a vibe on, and I'll tell you how you do!

"Hmm I wonder if they sell wine over here. I'm not in the mood for beer or water. Let's go sit over there" I'm looking for people who seem like seasoned regulars in this place, but not Osokans. And who might enjoy a drink. If there is anyone like that I'll take that table.

Frank clears his throat, a sound that is a cross between a threatening growl and a gurgling noise, and then leans on the counter. He turns to look at the bartender, and blinks slowly once, his red eyes hiding behind the red flaps of skin for just a moment. "<Unless you have bloodfire ales, preferably over one hundred years old, I'll have some water.>" he says, in his native, tribal tongue. He reads the bartender's expression, and if it seems to be confused or uncertain, he'll repeat himself as best he can in basic, speaking slowly and clearly, trying to make his words intelligable. And failing, of course.

Rhys frowns, looking at Frank. "If the water here is fairly drinkable... Poor guy doesn't hold foreign booze too well." He grins apologetically. Rhys will glance around the room, looking for any of the few Osokans that seem like they don't want to be noticed.

(Fire, non-Osokans probably won't be able to give us much Osokan-oriented info. Just sayin'.)

Well, the bartender can get you what you want.

Whether you find the kind of people you want or not depends on your Savoir-Faire roll, but once more, I need a good idea about what you are trying to discover before I can make those rolls.

More specifically, Rhys is searching for any Osokans that look ill at ease around other Osokans, on the belief that they might be supporters of the currently ill-favored Matadan.

Hmm, no, nothing like that at all. Every Osokan looks more or less happy, if they can be ascribed such human feelings anyway.

This pumping, loud, tribal soundtrack in the background is giving you a headache.

Rhys turns back to the bartender. "I"ve heard that the political situation here has been on edge for quite a while now, but no one I've seen seems to be at each other's throats. What exactly is the problem?"

Let's hope that they won't actually get to tearing our throats out if I ask too many questions...

"What, you mean that half the Lodge Masters want to kill the other half, or that Coruscant is shoving its nose in our business?"

Rhys grins depsite himself. "I know the annoyances that Coruscant is capable of. Sometimes I wish that the capital planet would just keep its leering eyes to itself and let the planets take care of their own business. Not like the Senate knows everything going on about any one planet, anyway. Sure would save everyone a hell of a lotta trouble, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," he says. "This planet just needs some time to calm down. Why do you care?"

Money, you wanna make money off it. I think thats a good basis for all of us to be here. Not a pure motive, but a believeable one.
OK well you guys get the Osokan view of things, We'll get an outsider view
I wanna find some smuggler types that seem rather comfortable, and slightly chatty. Not ones that seem too nervous about being here, but ones that are alright around Osokans and such, So that it seems like they've been here a while.

Max, I say we pose a mercenarys, Fighters for hire, say we heard about "Whats going on" and wanna make a quick buck, see if they'll elaborate, and see who else we can talk to that might know more. Or if they have some good information, And If they seem to like us, we buy drinks and go with it.

Rhys shrugs. "Sorry if it sounds like I'm prying," he nods to Frank, continuing, "My friend here likes knowing this kind of stuff. I dunno the reason; never can quite understand a damn thing he says when he tries to explain why.

"Anyway, what's the trouble that the lodgemasters are having? I thought Osokans had a well-structured system for that stuff."

After Kyle settles in at the bar, he looks around at the various patrons, and waits for the bartender. When he finally gets over to him, Kyle orders "Two of whatever's popular 'round here". When the drinks are served, he casually asks, "So, what's new around here? Anything exciting happening?"

sounds good

Oh, well then! Galahad will seek out the nearest Senatorial vessel he can find, presumably with his entourage and bodyguard in tow.

What would they say if I told them that the Senate sent me to observe the goings on?