Werdla Dardalab
Character
Thustra.
Home of the Sephi, a race of overly pretty pointy-ears who lived so long they just sat around chatting about problems instead of dealing with them. And the men did stupid things with their hair. You couldn't get a helmet on over a ridiculous spire of hair, 'La didn't care how many gems you put on it. Plus they almost all looked like one punch would knock them out cold. All in all, not a planet she was particularly impressed with.
Apparently they were having a problem with Garral who'd somehow made it over from Wayland. Likely someone had tried to smuggle them off-world for the exotic beast trade and found them to be more of a handful than they were prepared to deal with. What mattered was that they were willing to pay to get rid of them, and 'La was very nearly broke.
Her soul was likely in good standing considering all the fighting for the glory of Manda'yaim she'd been doing, her credit on the other hand.. A girl couldn't eat honour or medals. Well. That was unfair. They did feed and provide ammo at least. Still, it was good to have something set aside for a rainy day.
First though, the traditional drink. Or three. She'd found the one cantina in town that served a proper black ale for their Mandalorian.. Overseers? Protectors? Whatever, the damned planet was theirs. She intended on fortifying herself right proper before going to start the hunt and/or sleep it off in the forest. Dressed in her armour, though she currently had the helmet off and clipped to her belt to aid in drinking, La sat at the bar, mug in hand.
[member="Ariella Garon"]
Home of the Sephi, a race of overly pretty pointy-ears who lived so long they just sat around chatting about problems instead of dealing with them. And the men did stupid things with their hair. You couldn't get a helmet on over a ridiculous spire of hair, 'La didn't care how many gems you put on it. Plus they almost all looked like one punch would knock them out cold. All in all, not a planet she was particularly impressed with.
Apparently they were having a problem with Garral who'd somehow made it over from Wayland. Likely someone had tried to smuggle them off-world for the exotic beast trade and found them to be more of a handful than they were prepared to deal with. What mattered was that they were willing to pay to get rid of them, and 'La was very nearly broke.
Her soul was likely in good standing considering all the fighting for the glory of Manda'yaim she'd been doing, her credit on the other hand.. A girl couldn't eat honour or medals. Well. That was unfair. They did feed and provide ammo at least. Still, it was good to have something set aside for a rainy day.
First though, the traditional drink. Or three. She'd found the one cantina in town that served a proper black ale for their Mandalorian.. Overseers? Protectors? Whatever, the damned planet was theirs. She intended on fortifying herself right proper before going to start the hunt and/or sleep it off in the forest. Dressed in her armour, though she currently had the helmet off and clipped to her belt to aid in drinking, La sat at the bar, mug in hand.
[member="Ariella Garon"]
