Lanta Rosa
Character
The usual twisted peace of the underworld of Coruscant was continuing as it always had, barely balancing order and chaos enough to leave the chaotic from destroying themselves. In fact part of the allure for these dark and cruel depths was that chaos flourished down there, those willing to sell their morality for credits would find it more profitable than many places in the galaxy and so the deep pits of the city planet pulled like a black hole to those with darkness in their hearts and cruelty on their minds. Many of these people formed up into organised gangs that fought for control of the streets and districts they roamed.
Very much unfortunately for Lanta, the local gangs had finally stopped their gang war and had decided to share ownership of the levels that he inhabited himself, meaning more troops doing the rounds and more people plucked from the streets, people he wouldn't really call friends, more fellow survivors. But every person gone was one less person to not be him the next time the gangs prowled around. And so it was that Lanta found himself surrounded by unarmed thugs, the lower class of this conjoined gang, little comfort, but still somewhat of a relief. Lanta took out the long rusty pipe that he had snagged on an earlier day, wielding it in both hands he kept his eyes on his enemies. There were five of them, and they went to attack him, though due to their lack of order in their ranks charged one after the other, Lanta planting one for forwards, sliding his right hand down to the left end of his staff with his other hand as he swung it around himself, leaning his body through the strike as well, colliding with the heads of the gang members, one after another as they ran at him. Once all of them lay helpless on the floor, with cracked skulls of varying severity, he put his staff back under the safety of his long coat, picking through their pockets and taking anything of value before he got the feeling that he was being watched. He looked around himself and shouted into the gloom "Show yourself. I know you are here."
Very much unfortunately for Lanta, the local gangs had finally stopped their gang war and had decided to share ownership of the levels that he inhabited himself, meaning more troops doing the rounds and more people plucked from the streets, people he wouldn't really call friends, more fellow survivors. But every person gone was one less person to not be him the next time the gangs prowled around. And so it was that Lanta found himself surrounded by unarmed thugs, the lower class of this conjoined gang, little comfort, but still somewhat of a relief. Lanta took out the long rusty pipe that he had snagged on an earlier day, wielding it in both hands he kept his eyes on his enemies. There were five of them, and they went to attack him, though due to their lack of order in their ranks charged one after the other, Lanta planting one for forwards, sliding his right hand down to the left end of his staff with his other hand as he swung it around himself, leaning his body through the strike as well, colliding with the heads of the gang members, one after another as they ran at him. Once all of them lay helpless on the floor, with cracked skulls of varying severity, he put his staff back under the safety of his long coat, picking through their pockets and taking anything of value before he got the feeling that he was being watched. He looked around himself and shouted into the gloom "Show yourself. I know you are here."
