Shadows of Bankor

Daunt had learned to fish on Savareen. It was yet another form of hunting he liked returning to from time to time. Now was the time. He was hunting at the sharp-edged shores, standing on two rocks, with surfing, gurgling water rolling between them. Zhaboka in hand.

The vortex under him was corresponding with the disquiet within him, under a veneer of calm.

"Ello sir, you lookin' to buy some fresh produce, me farm grows em' sweet they do," he said hefting a crate on his large shoulders.

"On me ways to market, I is."

The farmer tore him off the mental place he had been in.

"What produce do you have?" He lifted the spear out of water.

“Jabba fruit, cram berries… ooh I got some Hunga root, and some tekibebs, and of course I got’s some spice I do,” he said warmly.

“All for fair prices, they is… fair honest prices.”

"Spice? What kind of?" Daunt looked him over.

Daunt wrote: ↑

Sat Feb 01, 2020 10:45 pm

"Spice? What kind of?" Daunt looked him over.

“Why kind sir, it’s the good kind it is, direct from them Hutts it is. I mean you could use it on yer foods but be a waste I say,” he offered.

“Hundred quid a hit it is.”

Daunt would have no clue what this farmer was merchandising.

LA3. Underworld. What is this spice?: 1eP+1eA 0 successes, 1 advantage


"If it gives visions I'll take one dose to try it out."

He said, "Sure... hundred and it's all yours."

OOC: Nothing.

Difficulty: 1eD 0 successes, 1 threat

Daunt hopped off the rocks onto the shore to seal the transaction.

[-100 Creds]

"Pleasure doing business, me friend," he said and then continued to the village.

A short distance down the coast there was a young man sitting atop a boulder looking out over the ocean...

Daunt encountered him walking from where he had parted with the villager. He acknowledged a Mirialan he vaguely remembered from Xanna's soup kitchen.

Rannek did not recognize the large Zabrak since his focus had been elsewhere during his visit to the soup kitchen.

But seeing an acknowledgement he nodded back... privately hoping the giant scary man wasn’t in the mood for trouble.

He wasn't. Despite being but a young adult he had had his share of wanton violence and didn't seek more of the same. Keeping an open mind, he approached.

"I'd ask if they're baiting, but I don't see a fishing rod in your hand. Just enjoying the view?"

He nodded, "Yeah... heard there was some nice quiet places out here near Jaklu... Been spending the day getting out of the city." He replied.

"You from around here?"

"Hardly. I suppose we had the same idea around the same time by coming here." The Zabrak mused, taking a seat at a nearby rock by the water. "Your question means you're not either. So a tourist or a settler on Bankor?"

"A bit undecided at the moment to be honest... Came lookin' for work really. Been workin' as cheap muscle for people the past couple of years... Thought a kinda backwater place like this might have some work for me... All this fightin' though... Kinda a bit more dangerous than I expected."

"I've been doing some odd jobs myself. Depending on your mores, there may be work for you in Rygor. Come by the Salty Nerf one of the evenings."

He paused, wondering what the Mirialan was about. "You mean the Aznuri pacification?"

"Yeah... and the whole shooting up the slums that happened the day before..." He replied.

"What kind of work?"

"The seedier kind. Take, deliver, remove obstacles, remain discreet about it, don't ask too many questions. You can probably guess by the looks of me that I am not a florist."

"My dead mother would roll in her grave if her boy were to be a 'seedy' young man." He said with a chuckle.

"What you do is not who you are. It's some middle ground between the Empire and its opponents, and legality is something else when the state is what it is. But it's up to you in the end." The Zabrak shrugged.

He chuckled again and shook his head, "Nah it's not really that man. It's more the having to work with people that don't really need muscle but use it to get money from folks who don't have a lot of it... Not usually the best people to work for or trust in anyway."

"Trust is a luxury anyway." The steel-skinned man asserted without any particular emphasis to the point he was making. "I have not prayed on the downtrodden in this line of work here." Savareen was a different matter. "A muscle in the underworld is mostly needed to take on the haves. But I am not a recruiter, it's just something I argue for to keep the conversation going. I don't even know your name."

He nodded, "Name's Rannek. Muscle with a soft-heart."