Rustbuckets will never go out of style.
LOCATION: MOS EISLEY, TATOOINE
TIME: 09:36
DATE: --DATA CORRUPTED--
HUNTING TEAM:
Leenic Ellsil
Kat'ra Smart Kara Moonlighter
Lazrus Taine
Kranak Vizsla
The cantina's was choked with a mix of smoke, sweat, and the dust that blew in through the doors each time a new patron walked inside. If one looked closely they could pick out numerous faces with bounties high enough to keep their arsenals stocked for life, and the faces that weren't immediately recognizable appeared to be involved in some sort of gang activity or crime syndicate. The few patrons that werent either of these two types typically walked into the building, stayed just long enough to purchase and quickly down a drink, and then would promptly exit the bar (presumably to find an establishment of better standing). However, if one looked quite well, one could see that there was a particular patron in the bar that seemed to fit none of these labels (Either that, or all three at once. It was a debatable topic.), a man in rusted Beskar'gam with two a large rifle leaning up against the end of the booth he was sitting in. This, as anyone who knew the citizens of this city would know, was Leenic Ellsil; A man of enough reputation so that most of the regular patrons of the cantina knew not to push his buttons, but not nearly enough reputation to be completely safe from harassment.
Today, luckily, no one seemed to wish to bother him, and that was a good thing since he needed all of his strength for the job at hand. Using both the black market and some of his back-alley contacts, he had put out the word that he would be offering a large sum of money to any mercenaries, bounty hunters, poachers, and any others like them that would be willing to assist him in hunting down a great beast. The beast in question? A greater Krayt Dragon that Leenic had been tracking for the past six months. Each day he had trailed it, drawing a map of its feeding grounds and movement patterns until he had seemingly mapped out its entire territory. After completing that task, he had taken it upon himself to find its den and had discovered it to live in a large cave about 200 kilometres away from Mos Eisley. Leaving no stone unturned, he then scoured large stretches of desert around the beast's den to see if there were any main feeding spots, only to find the ruins of a small mining town that the beast had presumably destroyed. That was when he decided it best not to attempt to tackle such a creature alone, and put out the call for assistance.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Leenic looked around the area, dropping down his scanner to see if any of his contacts had shown up. Seeing that (as of yet) none had arrived, he turned his attention back to his drink. Pulling his helmet up just enough to slip the cup under and take a swig, he thought about the plan he had spent hours formulating. OK. He thought, setting down the cup, pulling his helmet back down, and pulling the map out of his satchel. Its home is here. He tapped the center of a large triangle to the top left corner of the map. Main feeding area is three clicks west, secondary feeding is four clicks south of its home, and last resort feeding area is 50 clicks out to the North, but the other two feeding grounds have been well-kept by the Tuskins so that shouldn’t be a problem. Then he glanced up at his drink again, staring at it for a couple seconds before deciding it would be best to stay mostly sober. After all, he had yet to hear of a successful drunken hunter and he really didnt want to test how well that would work.
TIME: 09:36
DATE: --DATA CORRUPTED--
HUNTING TEAM:
Leenic Ellsil
Kat'ra Smart Kara Moonlighter
Lazrus Taine
Kranak Vizsla
The cantina's was choked with a mix of smoke, sweat, and the dust that blew in through the doors each time a new patron walked inside. If one looked closely they could pick out numerous faces with bounties high enough to keep their arsenals stocked for life, and the faces that weren't immediately recognizable appeared to be involved in some sort of gang activity or crime syndicate. The few patrons that werent either of these two types typically walked into the building, stayed just long enough to purchase and quickly down a drink, and then would promptly exit the bar (presumably to find an establishment of better standing). However, if one looked quite well, one could see that there was a particular patron in the bar that seemed to fit none of these labels (Either that, or all three at once. It was a debatable topic.), a man in rusted Beskar'gam with two a large rifle leaning up against the end of the booth he was sitting in. This, as anyone who knew the citizens of this city would know, was Leenic Ellsil; A man of enough reputation so that most of the regular patrons of the cantina knew not to push his buttons, but not nearly enough reputation to be completely safe from harassment.
Today, luckily, no one seemed to wish to bother him, and that was a good thing since he needed all of his strength for the job at hand. Using both the black market and some of his back-alley contacts, he had put out the word that he would be offering a large sum of money to any mercenaries, bounty hunters, poachers, and any others like them that would be willing to assist him in hunting down a great beast. The beast in question? A greater Krayt Dragon that Leenic had been tracking for the past six months. Each day he had trailed it, drawing a map of its feeding grounds and movement patterns until he had seemingly mapped out its entire territory. After completing that task, he had taken it upon himself to find its den and had discovered it to live in a large cave about 200 kilometres away from Mos Eisley. Leaving no stone unturned, he then scoured large stretches of desert around the beast's den to see if there were any main feeding spots, only to find the ruins of a small mining town that the beast had presumably destroyed. That was when he decided it best not to attempt to tackle such a creature alone, and put out the call for assistance.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Leenic looked around the area, dropping down his scanner to see if any of his contacts had shown up. Seeing that (as of yet) none had arrived, he turned his attention back to his drink. Pulling his helmet up just enough to slip the cup under and take a swig, he thought about the plan he had spent hours formulating. OK. He thought, setting down the cup, pulling his helmet back down, and pulling the map out of his satchel. Its home is here. He tapped the center of a large triangle to the top left corner of the map. Main feeding area is three clicks west, secondary feeding is four clicks south of its home, and last resort feeding area is 50 clicks out to the North, but the other two feeding grounds have been well-kept by the Tuskins so that shouldn’t be a problem. Then he glanced up at his drink again, staring at it for a couple seconds before deciding it would be best to stay mostly sober. After all, he had yet to hear of a successful drunken hunter and he really didnt want to test how well that would work.
