Post by Syren on Nov 8, 2020 17:54:03 GMT -8
*DISCLAIMER* I have been suffering from significant writer's block so this is a straight up reskin of the D&D Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus Campaign. I was hoping it would spark a bit creativity and get back more in the flow of writing my own stuff.
*Nar Shadaa, the smugglers moon sprawled in a writhing hive of duracrete and smog, the fringe of the galaxy eeking out a living between the Corellian Run and Perlimian Trade Route. The Hutt’s palace glared like a beacon over the sprawling slums of the city wrapped in the noxious haze of the planet. Hutta Town was steeped in spice, gambling, and lucrative skin trade. Smuggler’s Moon, indeed.
A hop skip and a jump to the outer rim rises the jewel of Ylesia, supposed religious retreat to the Hutts… until recently. If you listen to the refugees, it’s as if the planet just disappeared suddenly and in the blink of an eye. They keep pouring into the city, yammering about the ill fate of the holy land. Will Nar Shadaa, seething with crime as it is, be next? What really happened to Ylesia?
Concern grows on Nar Shadaa as the hutts hire a mercenary army, the Vise of Vice to maintain order within the city and secure their assets. However, all is not well in the ranks – Garran the Hutt, to whom the mercenaries initially pledged their allegiance, has disappeared upon his pilgrimage to Ylesia. Restlessness grows amongst the VV, and the planet has been effectively barricaded from further entry. No one gets in, and no one gets out.
Syren sat heaped in on herself and softly snoring in the cleanest back alley of the city that she could find. The scuffle of hardnail boots resounded off the alley walls as the soldiers approached. The lead soldier kicked her rudely awake, primarily to check if she was alive.
Syren immediately came awake and curled into a ball from the pain. She hissed and bared her teeth at the man. He hauled her up by the hair and shoved a
blaster into her ribs.*
“You’ve been conscripted, you gonna fight about it?”
*She considered momentarily then went limp. The soldier laughed and shoved her down the alley. To two of his fellow soldiers he pointed at Syren and gave them some instructions,*
“Make sure he gets over to the Palace gate, we’ll finish checking through these dredgs.”
*Syren felt a little insulted at the misgendering but thought better of it given what she had run into on Nar Shadaa. She went ahead of her chaperones silent and sullen.
Along the way dozens of VV are trying to control an angry mob fighting to enter the space port, eager to leave the cesspit. Her escort shoved her towards the palace, adjacent to the spaceport, and then went to join their compatriots in the fray. A huge trandoshan suddenly erupted from the spaceport and barreled into the crowd of people tossing them around like rag dolls. A single orange eye gleamed and a guttural hiss and growl echoed from the large fellow. The crowd stepped back but did not immediately disperse until the trandoshan started throwing people again. Syren ducked down behind a crumbling wall
The captain of the VV proving himself today, not only that he should lead their band, but also that his Scorekeeper. Though, tossing refugees would hardly be worth much. This was truly beneath her notice. Nevertheless he would need to be ready for when the commander arrives, and keeping order was the first step for Virrc.
Virrc is a right bastard to his enemies, or those he is paid to see as enemies, but he shows an uncharacteristic soft spot for all his soldiers. He gives orders to his flanking officers and they begin a route through the mob. Fearing for their lives against the tide of mercenaries moreso than the fear of the backstreets, the mob disperse. The price to make passage to the black beyond was far too steep today.
As the crowd disperses, Virrc spies Syren trying to stay out of the way. His eyes narrow and he reaches for her. Unlike the soldiers that found her in the street, he notices that she is a woman.* “You do not flee?” *he hisses at her in Dosh. Six of his staff hang around ready to enforce his will. The soldiers that were escorting her materialize and address their captain.*
“He was down in the slums, the Lieutenant thought he should be conscripted as per your orders sir.”
*A frown crossed Virrc’s face,* "This invasion has convinced our Hutt overlords that Nar Shadaa will suffer as did Ylesia, whatever fate that may be. This is a plot brought on by a faction of Jedi that were spying on the holy land.”
*He paused and glanced at Syren once more, she had a vague smell that reminded him of the Jedi scum come to invade his city.* “We need to eradicate them when we find them, for they are here.” *His tongue lashed out in a hiss.* “New recruits however have other tasks. You,” *another pause as he glared at her. This pathetic creature looked human to him, and while he had human females in his army, and the commander herself was more than capable, this waife looked like a breeze would knock her over. Most of her kind ended up in the skin trade.*
“You will help hunt down another problem.” *He said it like it was an offer, an offer that could not well be refused.* “Or you can throw you into the Hutt’s skin pit.” *His teeth gnashed in a leering grimace. In his opposite hand he held a badge emblazoned with a putrid green fist wrapped in twisting flame. Syren tentatively reached for the badge and Virrc smiled.
Virrc dismissed the two foot soldiers and dragged Syren over to an office just inside the space port. Along the far wall sat three other conscripts, like Syren who had been given a choice that was not a choice. Virrc tossed Syren towards the bench where the other sat. She stumbled but caught herself before she ran into the others. The slid aside on the bench to allow her a seat.
After silence resumed, Virrc addressed the four unfortunate souls,* “Not only do we have Jedi in the city, but there are rumors of Sith as well. In the past the city has seen the rise and fall of these scum, and in the chaos they seem to be growing bolder. You’re going to act as the expendable bait so my lieutenants can mop up the remnants.” *He glanced to Hodge and Podge, two Weequay twins who looked like they had no sense of humor.*
“You will be in contact with Lt. Hodge and Lt. Podge while you patrol the lower decks of the city for this threat. If you manage to stay alive, you might hold a more permanent place in our ranks. If not, well, may the Scorekeeper judge you well little knives.” *He waved for them all to get out, and Hodge and Podge led them to the barracks to equip them.*
*Nar Shadaa, the smugglers moon sprawled in a writhing hive of duracrete and smog, the fringe of the galaxy eeking out a living between the Corellian Run and Perlimian Trade Route. The Hutt’s palace glared like a beacon over the sprawling slums of the city wrapped in the noxious haze of the planet. Hutta Town was steeped in spice, gambling, and lucrative skin trade. Smuggler’s Moon, indeed.
A hop skip and a jump to the outer rim rises the jewel of Ylesia, supposed religious retreat to the Hutts… until recently. If you listen to the refugees, it’s as if the planet just disappeared suddenly and in the blink of an eye. They keep pouring into the city, yammering about the ill fate of the holy land. Will Nar Shadaa, seething with crime as it is, be next? What really happened to Ylesia?
Concern grows on Nar Shadaa as the hutts hire a mercenary army, the Vise of Vice to maintain order within the city and secure their assets. However, all is not well in the ranks – Garran the Hutt, to whom the mercenaries initially pledged their allegiance, has disappeared upon his pilgrimage to Ylesia. Restlessness grows amongst the VV, and the planet has been effectively barricaded from further entry. No one gets in, and no one gets out.
Syren sat heaped in on herself and softly snoring in the cleanest back alley of the city that she could find. The scuffle of hardnail boots resounded off the alley walls as the soldiers approached. The lead soldier kicked her rudely awake, primarily to check if she was alive.
Syren immediately came awake and curled into a ball from the pain. She hissed and bared her teeth at the man. He hauled her up by the hair and shoved a
blaster into her ribs.*
“You’ve been conscripted, you gonna fight about it?”
*She considered momentarily then went limp. The soldier laughed and shoved her down the alley. To two of his fellow soldiers he pointed at Syren and gave them some instructions,*
“Make sure he gets over to the Palace gate, we’ll finish checking through these dredgs.”
*Syren felt a little insulted at the misgendering but thought better of it given what she had run into on Nar Shadaa. She went ahead of her chaperones silent and sullen.
Along the way dozens of VV are trying to control an angry mob fighting to enter the space port, eager to leave the cesspit. Her escort shoved her towards the palace, adjacent to the spaceport, and then went to join their compatriots in the fray. A huge trandoshan suddenly erupted from the spaceport and barreled into the crowd of people tossing them around like rag dolls. A single orange eye gleamed and a guttural hiss and growl echoed from the large fellow. The crowd stepped back but did not immediately disperse until the trandoshan started throwing people again. Syren ducked down behind a crumbling wall
The captain of the VV proving himself today, not only that he should lead their band, but also that his Scorekeeper. Though, tossing refugees would hardly be worth much. This was truly beneath her notice. Nevertheless he would need to be ready for when the commander arrives, and keeping order was the first step for Virrc.
Virrc is a right bastard to his enemies, or those he is paid to see as enemies, but he shows an uncharacteristic soft spot for all his soldiers. He gives orders to his flanking officers and they begin a route through the mob. Fearing for their lives against the tide of mercenaries moreso than the fear of the backstreets, the mob disperse. The price to make passage to the black beyond was far too steep today.
As the crowd disperses, Virrc spies Syren trying to stay out of the way. His eyes narrow and he reaches for her. Unlike the soldiers that found her in the street, he notices that she is a woman.* “You do not flee?” *he hisses at her in Dosh. Six of his staff hang around ready to enforce his will. The soldiers that were escorting her materialize and address their captain.*
“He was down in the slums, the Lieutenant thought he should be conscripted as per your orders sir.”
*A frown crossed Virrc’s face,* "This invasion has convinced our Hutt overlords that Nar Shadaa will suffer as did Ylesia, whatever fate that may be. This is a plot brought on by a faction of Jedi that were spying on the holy land.”
*He paused and glanced at Syren once more, she had a vague smell that reminded him of the Jedi scum come to invade his city.* “We need to eradicate them when we find them, for they are here.” *His tongue lashed out in a hiss.* “New recruits however have other tasks. You,” *another pause as he glared at her. This pathetic creature looked human to him, and while he had human females in his army, and the commander herself was more than capable, this waife looked like a breeze would knock her over. Most of her kind ended up in the skin trade.*
“You will help hunt down another problem.” *He said it like it was an offer, an offer that could not well be refused.* “Or you can throw you into the Hutt’s skin pit.” *His teeth gnashed in a leering grimace. In his opposite hand he held a badge emblazoned with a putrid green fist wrapped in twisting flame. Syren tentatively reached for the badge and Virrc smiled.
Virrc dismissed the two foot soldiers and dragged Syren over to an office just inside the space port. Along the far wall sat three other conscripts, like Syren who had been given a choice that was not a choice. Virrc tossed Syren towards the bench where the other sat. She stumbled but caught herself before she ran into the others. The slid aside on the bench to allow her a seat.
After silence resumed, Virrc addressed the four unfortunate souls,* “Not only do we have Jedi in the city, but there are rumors of Sith as well. In the past the city has seen the rise and fall of these scum, and in the chaos they seem to be growing bolder. You’re going to act as the expendable bait so my lieutenants can mop up the remnants.” *He glanced to Hodge and Podge, two Weequay twins who looked like they had no sense of humor.*
“You will be in contact with Lt. Hodge and Lt. Podge while you patrol the lower decks of the city for this threat. If you manage to stay alive, you might hold a more permanent place in our ranks. If not, well, may the Scorekeeper judge you well little knives.” *He waved for them all to get out, and Hodge and Podge led them to the barracks to equip them.*