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STAR WARS: ASHES of the OLD REPUBLIC - Scene 1
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<blockquote data-quote="narayan" data-source="post: 6782439" data-attributes="member: 6677509"><p><strong>Jeril, Old Man</strong></p><p></p><p><img src="http://i1345.photobucket.com/albums/p662/crowsontheskulls/STAR%20WARS%20Ashes%20of%20the%20Old%20Republic/The%20Icebreaker%20Spacer%20Bar%20V3.png~original" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #696969"><span style="font-size: 18px"><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console'"><strong><em>Icebreaker Spacer Bar</em></strong></span></span></span>__________________________________________________</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Jeril leads the way into the 'Icebreaker' Spacer's Bar. As they enter both men take a second to savor the warm air inside, hot enough to seriously consider removing gloves, scarfs and overcoats. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Exhales the last bit of icy air in his lungs. <span style="color: #008080">"Ah, the business office..."</span> He says matter-of-factly. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Directly before the sliding double doors is small diamond-shaped table made of heavy duty transparent plastic bisected by a transparent sheet. On either side of this shield is a rather large ice cube (weighing about 20 kg's). One cube is green, the other is blue. The section of the table beneath each cube is are highly chilled cooling plates so the cubes don't melt even in this hot room. Before each cube in the surface of the table is a small triangular hole opening into a holding box. Affixed to the table are two tools... a 2kg sledgehammer and a small cutting laser.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Jeril notes the question in the old mans eyes and explains. <span style="color: #008080">"It's a contest... who can break down the cubes fast enough to place the most pieces through the hole before time runs out in 30 seconds. I currently hold the record."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong> Nods plainly, obviously uninterested in childish games. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>As Jeril leads the way to the bar a cute bar-maid smiles and calls over to him. <span style="color: #808080">"Back so soon?!"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Smirks. <span style="color: #008080">"Business as usual!"</span> He answers leading the old man to one of the secluded tables (#4 on the diagram). There are no doors ensuring privacy, just blue-plastic bead curtains, but its better than nothing. <span style="color: #008080">"Have a seat."</span> Jeril says, removing his overcoat and taking a chair with his back to the wall.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Jeril is dressed in nondescript locals garb. Grey Wool Trousers tucked into warm boots, long-sleeve cotton tunic, wool sweater. The only things about his dress that differ from a typical administrator is the spacers utility belt around his waist and the blaster in a shoulder-holster. (His lightsaber is kept in a leather sheath with a concealing flap)</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Jeril is in his mid-thirties, 1.75 meters tall, 75 kg's, bright blue eyes, pale-skin, thick, straight-black hair and a few days worth of stubble on his face. His eyes are currently clouded with uncertainty, but hopeful about making a change. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The old man didn't dress warmly enough for his trip here to Lanthrym that much is clear. He wouldn't last five minute outdoors with the overcoat he has on. Nothing else is remarkable about his dress. He has about the same height as Jeril but much slighter built. His demeanor is very serious, no-nonsense. A man out of patience. He takes the chair opposite Jeril, clearly tired from his journey, eager to get to business.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong><span style="color: #800000"> "Whats the price for heavy weapons?"</span> He asks wearily in a low voice. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Gestures for patience. <span style="color: #008080">"Hey relax, there's no need to rush the particulars. Let's have a drink first."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong> Frowns. <span style="color: #800000">"Time may be a luxury for you, but people back home suffer more everyday we can't fight back!"</span> He says bitterly. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"Sure, I get that... but I can only help you properly if I know you better. My employer expects certain things from me, and going around our usual arrangement isn't one of them... if you catch my drift?"</span></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong> Leans back regarding Jeril differently.<span style="color: #800000"> "I see... so instead of the 'regular arrangement' you're suggesting we do business man-to-man."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"Let's be honest with each other. You told me something true about yourself earlier and I appreciate that. I understand your hatred of the empire, truly I do."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong> <span style="color: #800000">"Why do you say that?"</span></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Takes a breath, clearly hesitant to speak of his past. Just then the barmaid knocks outside the curtain sparing him the pressure for another moment. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Barmaid:</strong> <span style="color: #808080">"Drinks?"</span> She asks pleasantly. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong><span style="color: #008080"> "Sure Vela, come in."</span> He says. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The cute barmaid enters, blonde-and-blue-eyed with a sweet smile.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Vela:</strong><span style="color: #808080"> "What'll it be?"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"The usual please."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Vela:</strong> Nods and turns to the old man. "And you?"</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong><span style="color: #800000"> "Whisky... and coffee."</span></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Vela:</strong> Nods and twirls back through the bead curtain.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"I should introduce myself. I'm Jeril Rain, of Coruscant."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Old Man:</strong> Blinks. <span style="color: #800000">"Coruscant?! We don't get so many core-worlders out here. Nice to meet you Jeril, I'm Melvor Khamp. I suppose you came out here to get away from the Empire?"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Nods. <span style="color: #008080">"Of course, same as so many others... except I was there at the start of it. I witnessed things that should never have happened... terrible things! Truly dark-deeds!"</span> He says sadly, staring out the transparisteel window overlooking the crater, unconsciously sliding his sleeve up to rub a tattoo on his forearm.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Melvor: </strong><span style="color: #800000">"Whats the tatoo?"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"It's a copy of my masters tattoo. The one he carried before the emperors henchmen killed him."</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Melvor: </strong><span style="color: #800000">"Master? Were you some kind of slave?"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> <span style="color: #008080">"No, not a slave... a student. My master was a Jedi."</span> He says with some hesitancy.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Melvor:</strong> <span style="color: #800000">"Jedi?!"</span> He exclaims. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Raises his hand quickly. <span style="color: #008080">"Not so loud!"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Melvor:</strong> Stares. <span style="color: #800000">"I've never met a Jedi before!"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Leans forward, lowering his voice. <span style="color: #008080">"What kind of Jedi earns a living arranging black-market dealings for a crime boss? I'm no Jedi!"</span></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Melvor:</strong> Blinks. <span style="color: #800000">"What happened to you?"</span> </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Jeril:</strong> Sighs. <span style="color: #008080">"It's a long story..."</span></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="narayan, post: 6782439, member: 6677509"] [b]Jeril, Old Man[/b] [IMG]http://i1345.photobucket.com/albums/p662/crowsontheskulls/STAR%20WARS%20Ashes%20of%20the%20Old%20Republic/The%20Icebreaker%20Spacer%20Bar%20V3.png~original[/IMG] [COLOR=#696969][SIZE=5][FONT=Lucida Console][B][I]Icebreaker Spacer Bar[/I][/B][/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]__________________________________________________ [I] Jeril leads the way into the 'Icebreaker' Spacer's Bar. As they enter both men take a second to savor the warm air inside, hot enough to seriously consider removing gloves, scarfs and overcoats. [B]Jeril:[/B] Exhales the last bit of icy air in his lungs. [COLOR=#008080]"Ah, the business office..."[/COLOR] He says matter-of-factly. Directly before the sliding double doors is small diamond-shaped table made of heavy duty transparent plastic bisected by a transparent sheet. On either side of this shield is a rather large ice cube (weighing about 20 kg's). One cube is green, the other is blue. The section of the table beneath each cube is are highly chilled cooling plates so the cubes don't melt even in this hot room. Before each cube in the surface of the table is a small triangular hole opening into a holding box. Affixed to the table are two tools... a 2kg sledgehammer and a small cutting laser. Jeril notes the question in the old mans eyes and explains. [COLOR=#008080]"It's a contest... who can break down the cubes fast enough to place the most pieces through the hole before time runs out in 30 seconds. I currently hold the record."[/COLOR] [B]Old Man:[/B] Nods plainly, obviously uninterested in childish games. As Jeril leads the way to the bar a cute bar-maid smiles and calls over to him. [COLOR=#808080]"Back so soon?!"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] Smirks. [COLOR=#008080]"Business as usual!"[/COLOR] He answers leading the old man to one of the secluded tables (#4 on the diagram). There are no doors ensuring privacy, just blue-plastic bead curtains, but its better than nothing. [COLOR=#008080]"Have a seat."[/COLOR] Jeril says, removing his overcoat and taking a chair with his back to the wall. Jeril is dressed in nondescript locals garb. Grey Wool Trousers tucked into warm boots, long-sleeve cotton tunic, wool sweater. The only things about his dress that differ from a typical administrator is the spacers utility belt around his waist and the blaster in a shoulder-holster. (His lightsaber is kept in a leather sheath with a concealing flap) Jeril is in his mid-thirties, 1.75 meters tall, 75 kg's, bright blue eyes, pale-skin, thick, straight-black hair and a few days worth of stubble on his face. His eyes are currently clouded with uncertainty, but hopeful about making a change. The old man didn't dress warmly enough for his trip here to Lanthrym that much is clear. He wouldn't last five minute outdoors with the overcoat he has on. Nothing else is remarkable about his dress. He has about the same height as Jeril but much slighter built. His demeanor is very serious, no-nonsense. A man out of patience. He takes the chair opposite Jeril, clearly tired from his journey, eager to get to business. [B]Old Man:[/B][COLOR=#800000] "Whats the price for heavy weapons?"[/COLOR] He asks wearily in a low voice. [B]Jeril:[/B] Gestures for patience. [COLOR=#008080]"Hey relax, there's no need to rush the particulars. Let's have a drink first."[/COLOR] [B]Old Man:[/B] Frowns. [COLOR=#800000]"Time may be a luxury for you, but people back home suffer more everyday we can't fight back!"[/COLOR] He says bitterly. [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"Sure, I get that... but I can only help you properly if I know you better. My employer expects certain things from me, and going around our usual arrangement isn't one of them... if you catch my drift?"[/COLOR] [B]Old Man:[/B] Leans back regarding Jeril differently.[COLOR=#800000] "I see... so instead of the 'regular arrangement' you're suggesting we do business man-to-man."[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"Let's be honest with each other. You told me something true about yourself earlier and I appreciate that. I understand your hatred of the empire, truly I do."[/COLOR] [B]Old Man:[/B] [COLOR=#800000]"Why do you say that?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] Takes a breath, clearly hesitant to speak of his past. Just then the barmaid knocks outside the curtain sparing him the pressure for another moment. [B]Barmaid:[/B] [COLOR=#808080]"Drinks?"[/COLOR] She asks pleasantly. [B]Jeril:[/B][COLOR=#008080] "Sure Vela, come in."[/COLOR] He says. The cute barmaid enters, blonde-and-blue-eyed with a sweet smile. [B]Vela:[/B][COLOR=#808080] "What'll it be?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"The usual please."[/COLOR] [B]Vela:[/B] Nods and turns to the old man. "And you?" [B]Old Man:[/B][COLOR=#800000] "Whisky... and coffee."[/COLOR] [B]Vela:[/B] Nods and twirls back through the bead curtain. [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"I should introduce myself. I'm Jeril Rain, of Coruscant."[/COLOR] [B]Old Man:[/B] Blinks. [COLOR=#800000]"Coruscant?! We don't get so many core-worlders out here. Nice to meet you Jeril, I'm Melvor Khamp. I suppose you came out here to get away from the Empire?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] Nods. [COLOR=#008080]"Of course, same as so many others... except I was there at the start of it. I witnessed things that should never have happened... terrible things! Truly dark-deeds!"[/COLOR] He says sadly, staring out the transparisteel window overlooking the crater, unconsciously sliding his sleeve up to rub a tattoo on his forearm. [B]Melvor: [/B][COLOR=#800000]"Whats the tatoo?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"It's a copy of my masters tattoo. The one he carried before the emperors henchmen killed him."[/COLOR] [B]Melvor: [/B][COLOR=#800000]"Master? Were you some kind of slave?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] [COLOR=#008080]"No, not a slave... a student. My master was a Jedi."[/COLOR] He says with some hesitancy. [B]Melvor:[/B] [COLOR=#800000]"Jedi?!"[/COLOR] He exclaims. [B]Jeril:[/B] Raises his hand quickly. [COLOR=#008080]"Not so loud!"[/COLOR] [B]Melvor:[/B] Stares. [COLOR=#800000]"I've never met a Jedi before!"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] Leans forward, lowering his voice. [COLOR=#008080]"What kind of Jedi earns a living arranging black-market dealings for a crime boss? I'm no Jedi!"[/COLOR] [B]Melvor:[/B] Blinks. [COLOR=#800000]"What happened to you?"[/COLOR] [B]Jeril:[/B] Sighs. [COLOR=#008080]"It's a long story..."[/COLOR][/I] [/QUOTE]
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STAR WARS: ASHES of the OLD REPUBLIC - Scene 1
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