Wrapped in his all-temperature cloak, Renlo quietly grumbles about the lack of easy speeder transport. Looking at Gotal, he says, "An animal would be quicker, which means less time in this air for me. Let's see what we can find."
Stepping out, he waves down a passing beast and asks the rider, "Pardon me, but would you happen to be available for hire for transport, or tell us where we can rent a similar beast to yours?"
A human dressed in scrubby white clothes and sporting short dusty brown hair pulls up short. His Dewback shuffles to a stop while the clinking sounds of its' load settling lag the beast's stopping.
"Where are you going?" He says with a hint of an accent.
He reaches up, scratches the stubble on his chin and seems to weigh each of you in turn.
Seeing the apparition before him the young noble will begin to get panicky. Why don't you just leave me alone? I haven't done anything to you? Why do you torture me? he asks in desperation.
Seeing that this child is not mean or accusatory but more pleading the young noble will stop and inquire. You want me to help you? You need my help? I wish I could understand what you were saying.
A human dressed in scrubby white clothes and sporting short dusty brown hair pulls up short. His Dewback shuffles to a stop while the clinking sounds of its' load settling lag the beast's stopping.
"Where are you going?" He says with a hint of an accent.
He reaches up, scratches the stubble on his chin and seems to weigh each of you in turn.
"Not far outside of the city, a small moisture farm I would think is the destination. Looking up some old friends who I have not sen in some time".
Seeing that this child is not mean or accusatory but more pleading the young noble will stop and inquire. You want me to help you? You need my help? I wish I could understand what you were saying.
With another wave and gesture towards the desert, the apparition starts to walks towards where it is pointing. It is the size of a child with a child's steps, but it is moving at an adult's speed which makes the strides out of sync with the movement. 'She' stares at you as it walks away, mouthing something. When finally 'her' head would be at an impossible position on her neck, 'she' turns 'her' face towards the desert and does not look back.
"Not far outside of the city, a small moisture farm I would think is the destination. Looking up some old friends who I have not sen in some time".A human dressed in scrubby white clothes and sporting short dusty brown hair pulls up short. His Dewback shuffles to a stop while the clinking sounds of its' load settling lag the beast's stopping.
"Where are you going?" He says with a hint of an accent.
He reaches up, scratches the stubble on his chin and seems to weigh each of you in turn.
The stranger nods his heads sagely, "Ah!, there are many moisture farms between here and Mos Eisley. Perhaps you should look for a transport headed that direction. Unfortunately, I can not take you. I've got quite a journey ahead of me." With a sad smile, he turns and starts to leave. As his Dewback starts to move, the clinking of it's load attracts your attention... crockery, building supplies, and a few sundry household goods. He pauses, looks at Gotal again and remarks "I do not think it is a moisture farm will have answers that you seek. But the temple of the Dim-U monks in Mos Eisley may have information that will help. Safe journey's and may the Force..." then he trails off and gives the group a quick glance and resumes walking.
He will purchase food and water and appropriate clothing plus x-ray power for his board.
Moroka spares a curious glance at the tiny robed creature, then shrugs and climbs in. "I'm sure they understand, Corven. They could hardly provide a service out here without knowing some Basic."
...Right?
She gestures for her crewmates to join her. "Come on, this desert isn't getting any cooler while we wait."
He will purchase food and water and appropriate clothing plus x-ray power for his board.
Donavaan looks at the human street vendor and asks for water - which is on display. The man smiles and pulls a quart bag full of water from a small shelf. He turns and shows it to the young noble. He shakes it slightly so that Donavaan can hear the water slosh inside.
"That will be twenty credits. This is the finest water this side of the Dune Sea."Donavaan proceeds to ask for clothes and "x-ray vision" for his hover board...
The man's smile slips perceptibly. "I don't sell clothes, though you can purchase mine if you would like. I most certainly do NOT sell X-Ray vision for vehicles."
He seems to impatiently offer the water.
"Would you still like the water?"
And how much water do you have to sell?
Corven, Moroka & Jak climb into the Jawa drawn rickshaw and head for the "Pits." The bumpy journey takes roughly twenty minutes and takes the group through some very questionable parts of Anchorhead.
Finally, the drivers pull up close to an ancient domed structure that looks like it's heyday, if it had one, was many many years in the past.
The sounds of desert winds howling through the arched windows mutes the others sounds of the immediate area.
The tallest brown robed figure moves to allow the passengers off the rickshaw.
"Bing diga leen tu" the being states, holding out his hand expecting payment.
And how much water do you have to sell?
With a wave of his hand to highlight his wares, he replies, "I have nearly two gallons today."
He will ask for the two gallons and will give the guy 100 credits.
Gotal turns to Renlo, "It appears we will have to strike out into the desert ourselves. Shall we get a hold of some supplies before heading out there? It is close but we should not take chances if we do not need to.
Perhaps the place the trader pointed us to is a sound place for such information but if we are to go to Mos Eisley, the Owl should be what brings us there".
"Agreed. Let's buy some water. Lot's of water."
Renlo heads over to another vendor with water, and says, "Pardon, might my friend and I buy some water? Preferably in portable containers."
Moroka smiles at the little creature and produces thirty credits for his palm as she steps out of the rickshaw, observing the dome with a curious gaze.
"I wonder how a dome would earn such an unfortunate name as 'The Pits.' She wonders aloud, smirking. "Hope the welcome mat isn't a trapdoor..."
She nods to her crewmates and approaches the front door.
Gotal turns to Renlo, "It appears we will have to strike out into the desert ourselves. Shall we get a hold of some supplies before heading out there? It is close but we should not take chances if we do not need to.
Perhaps the place the trader pointed us to is a sound place for such information but if we are to go to Mos Eisley, the Owl should be what brings us there".
Gotal, please make a Perception check. Your DC is 20.
"I wonder how a dome would earn such an unfortunate name as 'The Pits.' She wonders aloud, smirking.
"Hope the welcome mat isn't a trapdoor..."
Jak laughs, but then makes a point to look around anyway. He didn't think this was a trap, but then again it didn't hurt to make sure.
Perception
Perception 1d20+9
"I wonder how a dome would earn such an unfortunate name as 'The Pits.' She wonders aloud, smirking.
"Hope the welcome mat isn't a trapdoor..."
Jak laughs, but then makes a point to look around anyway. He didn't think this was a trap, but then again it didn't hurt to make sure.
[dice=Perception]1d20+6
As you look around, your estimation about the joint seem confirmed. Other than some disreputable looking guards, milling around the perimeter of the building, you don't see anything that would cause you to suspect a trap.
Moroka, Jak & Corven approach the once magnificent building. There are two hired guards standing one on either side of the door.
"Who are you here to see?"
Corven smiles, his demeanor and tone as friendly as ever. "Stigs. Word is she may have some work for anyone interested to earn some credits?"
He will go look for appropriate clothing and supplies.
Corven smiles, his demeanor and tone as friendly as ever. "Stigs. Word is she may have some work for anyone interested to earn some credits?"
"Right. She's usually left of center in the arena. Straight through the door." He says with a head nod to the double doors over his right shoulder.
With that the two let your group pass.
You slide through the crack in the doors and stop for a moment to let your eyes adjust from the brightness of the twin suns outside. As your vision clears you see the outside matches the inside; the building used to be grand. Now the floors are well worn, the lighting is spotty and the decorations are time worn. From the entry this could have been a theater.
Straight ahead there is another set of double doors. There is a din of conversation and activity audible through the doors. To your left, there is a hallway that extends off and turns right. To your right is a desk with another guard lazily watching you.
Gotal will turn to look after the old man but will not say anything.
Looking at Renlo he shrugs, "Something about that old man makes me trust him. Shall we ask the others to head to Mos Eisley to meet these monks or see what those I detected have to say for themselves?"
"The others are meeting with this 'Stigs' to see about finding paying work. We can hop over to Mos Eisley when they've finished and returned. In the meantime, we migh as we'll see the others you've...sensed."
Looking after the man Gotal seems to trust, he says, "But carefully. He may have been trying to warn us of something."
Gotal shrugs, "Perhaps he may have. Still, it cannot hurt to check it out once we arrive I will of course think of another reason why we are seeking them out if they seem, less than savory".
Jak nods at the guards respectfully and continues to walk towards the other set of double doors as if he had been here a thousand times and knew his way around.
"Look alive, crew. Remember, we're professionals," he reminds the others.
Moroka chuckles to herself as she turns to follow. "Well...I suppose we're about to be, at any rate..."
She glances over her shoulder at Corven with a bemused smirk. "What do you think, Corven? Spice smuggling or bounty hunting? My gut says smuggling."
"Really? Hmm...," he remarks as he takes a better look at the various people. Finally, after a few moments, he shrugs and smiles at Moroka. "I would have gone with bounty hunters myself. They certainly look the part. More or less. Or at least they try to."
"I'd rather not try my hand at bounty-hunting, if we can avoid it. Folks like these probably ain't as like to bother with the nicety of a trial."
Once the noble gets his supplies he will head out into the desert where the child pointed.
Once the noble gets his supplies he will head out into the desert where the child pointed.
Donavaan gathers his supplies and heads out in the direction the young apparition pointed. He mounts his hoverboard, pushes off and glides freely across the sands. Every few seconds Donavaan kicks to add a little more humph to the forward motion of the board.
After what seems like an hour, Donavaan crests a hill and sees a giant Sandcrawler slowly creeping across the horizon. Beyond the Sandcrawler two pillars are evidnet; jutting up through the sand and shimmering through the heat waves.
"I'd rather not try my hand at bounty-hunting, if we can avoid it. Folks like these probably ain't as like to bother with the nicety of a trial."
The trio crosses the open space, confidently opens the central doors and steps through.
Similarly to the transition from outside to entry, it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the balcony you've stepped onto. There is a railing just a few feet inside. As you look around, the center of the grand room has several spot lights that are shining towards something at least one floor below you.
Moroka steps forward slightly and looks over the railing. Two stories below, there is a large arena with. Inside the arena there are a few beings shackled to a rail running the perimeter of the arena. They are running back and forth trying to stay away from a maddened Womp Rat.
The slathering beast growls and hisses and slashes with its' powerful claws as the two prisoners get close to "in range" of its' attack.
To the your slight left sits Stigs. She is seated in such a way that she can see the door you walked through. She seems thoroughly disinterested in the goings on down below. In fact she seems to be scanning data of some type on a datapad.
Stigs look up briefly at the three of you and stops what she's doing.
Were it not for the patch covering her left eye and the hint of three scars peaking around the edges of the patch, she would be strikingly beautiful.
Gotal shrugs, "Perhaps he may have. Still, it cannot hurt to check it out once we arrive I will of course think of another reason why we are seeking them out if they seem, less than savory".
Gotal and Renlo ease through the crowds of Anchorhead. After a few minutes travel Gotal feels certain that they have arrived. The building before the two beings has the squat feel of an official "republic/imperial" office building.
There is a durasteel door just under a small awning. The awning seems to be for decoration only as it is providing no protection against the sun.
A small data plate indicates that this is the home of the Wardens of the Sky.
He will by pass the crawler and carefully and cautiously approach the pillars.
"Howdy, ma'am. The name's Kato. Jak Kato. And these are my esteemed associates. We got a ship and are looking for work. We heard you might be looking to hire on some help."