Public A Friendly Little Game.....

[Deryn Kaaldos]

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"GAHHHHH! HELP! HE-" The Rodian screamed in agony as his shoulder got dislodged from its socket. The pop of bone was followed by the sound of ripping sinew. He struggled to be free, attempting to bite his way out of the Wookie's grip. He felt as the bones of his forearm shattered under the beast's grip, deforming into an unrecognizable form as the solid foundation that held his arm to his body became little more than threads before being flung off his body in a bloody mess. He fell to the ground, still conscious and fully-aware of his injuries. Adrenaline was now surging through him, granting him the strength to begin crawling towards the exit of the cantina but his hope of escape was snuffed out when a furry foot was placed onto him, the pressure of of the strength and weight cracking his ribs as his other arm was subject to the same treatment.

This is why you don't play Pazaak with Wookies. "Kark, look at this mess....." The owner muttered under his breath, gesturing towards the bloody mural on the wall painted by the Wookie. Normally, he would've immediately apprehended the murderer with his goons. However, after the display, not many of them were keen to follow him into battling an enraged Wookie. Many of the patrons turned their backs, civilians and mercenaries alike. They were all armed with guns but this wasn't worth the trouble. Besides, it was a general consensus that gambling with a Wookie would mean death. Fools that ignored it deserved to die.

"How much you gon' pay me to bring him down?" A voice asked from the proprietors side. An armored man wearing a long armorweave coat sat alone, nursing his drink - mostly because he couldn't drink it with his armor on, having bought it purely for aesthetic reasons. The owner turned to him with a doubtful gaze. "You're going to try to take that thing on? Even in Power-Armor, Wookies were still vastly superior to most races in physical strength, and this one seemed especially strong. Even the Trandoshan off by the bar side would not dare pick a fight with such a monster. "7000 Imperial Credits."

"Hutt Coins." He demanded, playing with the glass, shaking it gently to make the liquid inside twirl about between his metal fingers.

"I only have a half that price in Hutt Coins, bounty hunter." The owner crossed his arms and inspected the Bounty Hunter from head to toe. He was most certainly armed to the teeth. Power-Armor, a light repeater, a slugthrower, and a few thermal detonators from what he could see inside his coat, though he may be harboring more from within. "And I want the Wookie alive."

The hunter pondered for a minute. Well, he feigned pondering. He was itching for a fight after having lost the last seven games of Pazaak and ran his Hutt Coins dry. He needed to vent some anger and more importantly, he needed those coins. "Deal." He took his glass, walked up to the Wookie, and splashed its contents on his face. Chaos descended and the fight was over in a moment.

"I'm taking the replacement cost of the table and chairs out of your pay." The owner said, admiring the hunter's work. Of course, he'd admire it more if he hadn't thrown the Wookie through his table. "Don't karking-", "Relax, relax, I'm joking. Here's the reward." He dropped the Hutt Coins into the metallic hands of the hunter, clinking as they landed.

"Not very good at seeing bluffs, are you?"

"Don't make me shove these Hutt Coins up your arse." The reply garnered a laugh from the owner as he would turn back, moving towards the back rooms as his workers cleaned up the mess and encaged the Wookie. The hunter, Deryn, would settle back into the gambling rings, hoping to use his newly acquired Hutt Coins in a good game of Pazaak.

Venku Bralor

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