Male Mandalorian Conscript 1 | HP 12/12 | WP 28 | AC 13 T 13 FF 10 | Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +4 | Initiative +3 | Perception +6 |
Zev raises his eyes slowly, looking towards Lofkte with restrained anger. "Fine. I need a blaster." he says through gritted teeth before casting a glance at Kreshell. The feeling of helplessness that had become so familiar to the Mandalorian since his capture was beginning to aggravate him. If there is any stray cutlery floating around the table, Zev is going to try and snatch something on the sly with the hopes of making a shiv later on. Y'know, just in case. Sleight of hand to palm a knife or fork from the table to use as a shiv: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Male Mandalorian Conscript 1 | HP 12/12 | WP 28 | AC 13 T 13 FF 10 | Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +4 | Initiative +3 | Perception +6 |
With wild eyes, the young Mandalorian throws a sideways glance at the Devaronian he now shares a booth with. Remaining silent, except for the short growl in response to Jebber questioning his welfare, he takes in the scene around him. His wild mane of unkempt brown hair falls unceremoniously down towards his shoulders, framing an exhausted, unshaven face. Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 He focuses his attention on the armed guards around, trying to take count of how many blasters he can see within arm's reach while looking for a way out. Just in case things turned sour, which they often seemed to do around the young mercenary of late...
Male Mandalorian Conscript 1 | HP 12/12 | WP 28 | AC 13 T 13 FF 10 | Fort +4 Ref +5 Will +4 | Initiative +3 | Perception +6 |
'Parck' walks out to the front of the establishment, rubbing his wrists to restore the feeling after wearing manacles for so long. "Great..." he mutters sarcastically to on one in particular. He had no money, no weapons, no ship, and no idea exactly what had just happened. He was glad to be free of Jebber for a while, and of that spiteful woman Fliina.
"Gimme some Ruby Bliel... On Jebber Lofkte's tab." he growled to the barkeep. |