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<blockquote data-quote="Binder Fred" data-source="post: 5553162" data-attributes="member: 63746">&quot;Naw you're talking! Thanks, friend,&quot; and he flicks another 10 creds into his little blue hands... &lt;Response Nemoidian?&gt;&quot;Well that's that fawr friendly nemawidian number awne,&quot; quips Sloor once the man is out of earshot. &quot;Such disregard for basic greed,&quot; laments TB by his side.&quot;Practically had taw feed him the things.&quot; Grinning happily, Sloor closes his remaining fan of creds with a flourish and starts stalking towards the spaceport's exit, wide eyes scanning the surroundings in a lazy, predatory way. &quot;Sawme nice chewy pieces there at the end thawgh.&quot; He summarizes for those who need it: &quot;Awer hutt's a lawcal kingpin, tail in pretty much everything arawnd here. AND they dawn't like that much awver at Kret's -- remember *that* when we're there... Think Darga'd like him gift-wrapped awr just with a baw awn tawp?&quot; By the look on his face, he's only half joking...«Looking around for anything like local gangs or anybody that's been attracted by his overt show of creds. Perception Sloor: 15, Perception TB: 13&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;A sky ride it is,&quot; agrees the still grinning alien without missing a beat. He points to a beat-up hover cab waiting by the main exit, foreign driver leaning on the side. &quot;Haw much fawr Kret's cantina, friend?&quot;«BARGAIN down the price, of course: 26</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Binder Fred, post: 5553162, member: 63746"] [COLOR="Plum"]"Naw you're talking! Thanks, friend,"[/COLOR] and he flicks another 10 creds into his little blue hands... [COLOR="Gray"]<Response Nemoidian?>[/COLOR] [COLOR="Plum"]"Well that's that fawr friendly nemawidian number awne,"[/COLOR] quips Sloor once the man is out of earshot. [COLOR="Silver"]"Such disregard for basic greed," [/COLOR]laments TB by his side. [COLOR="Plum"] "Practically had taw feed him the things." [/COLOR]Grinning happily, Sloor closes his remaining fan of creds with a flourish and starts stalking towards the spaceport's exit, wide eyes scanning the surroundings in a lazy, predatory way. [COLOR="Plum"]"Sawme nice chewy pieces there at the end thawgh."[/COLOR] He summarizes for those who need it: [COLOR="Plum"]"Awer hutt's a lawcal kingpin, tail in pretty much everything arawnd here. AND they dawn't like that much awver at Kret's -- remember *that* when we're there... Think Darga'd like him gift-wrapped awr just with a baw awn tawp?" [/COLOR] By the look on his face, he's only half joking... [COLOR="Gray"]«Looking around for anything like local gangs or anybody that's been attracted by his overt show of creds. Perception Sloor: [COLOR="White"][B]15[/B][/COLOR], Perception TB: [B][COLOR="White"]13[/COLOR][/B][/COLOR] [COLOR="Plum"]"A sky ride it is,"[/COLOR] agrees the still grinning alien without missing a beat. He points to a beat-up hover cab waiting by the main exit, foreign driver leaning on the side. [COLOR="Plum"]"Haw much fawr Kret's cantina, friend?"[/COLOR] [COLOR="Gray"]«BARGAIN down the price, of course: [B][COLOR="White"]26[/COLOR][/B][/COLOR] [/QUOTE]

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