The Gunslinger

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

The

Gunslinger

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A Gunslinger enters a bar filled with tough types boasting ridiculously big blasters. As he enters they all turn and face him. He glowers at their unwanted attention and then makes his way to the bar. He orders a bourbon neat. A patron next to him makes some snide remark about the newcomer's attire--A melodic chortle interrupted the holovid, and with a frustrated sigh, Crix sat up in his bed and made for the cockpit. It was time to exit hyperspace.

The Smuggler brought the Highwind down for a landing. He was on Tatooine at the request of Beau Prittchet. The Wily Gunslinger called in a favor and even though Crix was in the middle of force training AND being sent on missions for the alliance, the younger man obliged. Beau was a mentor to Crix. When the smuggler first came on the scene, Beau and his crew took him under their wing, showed him the ropes, and remained in contact while Crix had thrown in with the Alliance.

Secretly, the smuggler hoped to eventually convince The Pritchett's gang to join the cause, but he doubted it'd work out. Crix landed at the local spaceport and stepped out of his ship lighting up a shitty cigarette as he stepped off the boarding ramp. He closed his lighter and returned it to his pocket.

The Smuggler was standing outside of a gaudy ancient western themed cantina. He took a drag off his cigarette as he surveyed the bar with sudden skepticism. The joint's name was Yee-Haw Space Bar. Under the name, a neon sign played out a human shooting a rodian... Crix's brow furrowed as he considered bailing on this.

"Oh, Beau... you own me huge for this, pal."

The Scoundrel passed through the swinging doors and into the cantina. As if on queue the entire bar stopped what they were doing and turned their attention directly toward Crix. He shifted uncomfortably his hand inching toward the quickdraw blaster on his right hip.

The silence was broken by a familiar Dantooine draw, "Well, Crix ma'boy what a pleasant surprise."

Beau Prittchet sat in a booth toward the back of the bar. He was flanked by his crew and Malraux sat directly at his right hand. A reassured smile spread across The Smuggler's face. His arched an indignant eyebrow and cocked his head back with his usual confidence.

"I forgot about your flair for drama, Beau..." He teased as he made his way into the bar. The entire bar returning their business.

Crix took a seat across from the gentleman and said, "Good to see you again, Mal."

The beautiful Twi'lek returned his greeting with her usual snark, "Welcome back little rebel."

Crix scoffed welcoming the jab. He wasn't isolated from others or anything anymore, but he couldn't say he was close to anyone other than Leah. It was nice to just bullshit for a minute. He settled into his chair, ordered a bourbon, and welcomed the long missed camaraderie. After a few minutes of getting caught up, Crix got to the point.

With a cunning smile, Crix shifted into negotiation mode. It was always the same with Beau. The guy was merciless when it came to payment, and Crix had been mentally preparing for this moment since their last bout. Beau sat forward tipping his hat back on his brow revealing a receding hairline and comical tan-line.

"Kid, I think it's time for you to take the test."

Crix shot him a scrupulous glance, leaning back in his seat. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

The Gunslinger flashed his charismatic grin and leaned back in his booth saying, "Hold yer horses, there's one more coming and I'm only gonna say this once."

Crix shrugged and sipped his whiskey. The cantina contained a very specific type. Every patron was heavily armed and prominently displayed their arms. His brow furrowed as he had sudden deja vu. He wasn't sure why but he couldn't shake an unexplained familiar feeling about this little reunion.

@Darasuum

 

[Burkhart Kelborn]

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Theme​

Some time had past since the Morling had set foot on such a dry planet. He could feel the moisture leaving his nose with every passing moment to which he huffed in mild annoyance. His beskar'gam protected him from the occasional blow of dust on the streets of the wind swept town. Boy did he need a drink, something cool preferably.

Ahead of him he found the bar that had been described to him in the meeting place. Morling closed his left eye as he approached while his right remained open but squinted a little. He probably could have been told half of the identifying features and still been able to pick it out. Stepping into the door way Burkhart's large figure filled the doorway for a moment. His left eye opened and was ahead of his right to adjust to the darkness. The Kelborn Alor did not want any surprises and there was a moment of weakness when transitioning between a bright to dark environment.

There were a few people sitting here and there. His own body seemed to have brought some attention and he quickly guaged if anybody was the type to mess with a large mandalorian carrying a deck sweeper light repeater. But he saw the man that had called him here and walked over to their table. He had crossed paths and heard of the Pritchett gang once or twice. This was the first time he was actually meeting with them on business though.

The mandalorian would reach up and take off his helmet, revealing his canine features to the others. "Alrright, wot's tha deal with this job then?" He asked with a mildly tired tone. He needed some convincing at this point but he was wondering what kind of work was ahead of him, or rather all of them.

@Zay​

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Crix sighed growing impatient. He tapped his foot on the floor and drummed a cascading beat on the table. He yawned leaning back in his chair, Beau laughed and said, "You seem a little restless, boy." Crix shrugged, "I'm just tired, brother." Beau's gaze shifted behind Crix and the smuggler turned around to get a look at this newcomer. A wide smile spread across the smuggler's lips as he watched the familiar Morling approach.

"Alright, I guess this was worth the wait." He chuckled shooting Burkhart a cocky grin and a two-fingered salute.

Burkhart got right to the point. Crix enjoyed pragmatism, and he had a very distinct feeling Beau was about to send them on some wacky errand about learning the way of the Gunslinger and honestly, Crix wasn't sure he had the patience for it. He was exhausted. The Smuggler had been burning it at both ends for weeks and he was finally starting to feel the fatigue set in. Not to mention his training... Becoming a Jedi, so far, had been the biggest pain in his ass ever. Sure, he could do some super weird stuff now, and he'd managed to wield a lightsaber, but the skills he'd learned... just didn't mesh well with him. Beau cleared his throat pulling Crix from his rambling monologue.

"Gentlemen it is my esteemed pleasure ta say, you've both been nominated to take "The Trial." Crix stared at him blankly. A deep seeded desire to abandon ship washed over him as Prittchet continued, "A Gunsmith walks the desert in search of one worthy of the title." Crix looked to Burkhart and shrugged helplessly.

Beau ignored Crix and continued on, "He seeks one keen of eye. Sharp of wit, and quick on the draw." A pained smile spread tightly across The Smuggler's mouth. "He calls to the wind, "Send me The Gunslinger." Will you answer the call?"

Crix's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked from Beau to Mal, back to Beau, and said, "Dude are you kriffing with me right now?"

Beau frowned, the humor left his face and his expression hardened. "I asked you a question, boy." Crix sighed... I can't believe he's doing this. He thought remorsefully.

The Smuggler rolled his eyes and agreed. Beau looked to Burkhart for his answer.

The Gunslinger pulled a map, like an actual freaking paper map, and slapped it on the table. Crix looked from the paper map to Beau and asked, "You're actually going to make me do this." Prittceht's expression remained hard and unwavering. Crix grumbled under his breath cupping his chin in his left hand as he leaned forward lounging on the table.

"This map will lead you to the first obstacle. If you can overcome that, the path to the gunsmith will be revealed." Crix looked to Mal and she broke a little quickly hiding a small smirk just as he looked her way. He pursed his lips and grimly accepted his fate.

"So, use the map to find the thing. Cool, thanks." He looked to Burkhart with a can you believe this guy expression.

"Take the map, but be warned: There is danger where The Gunslinger walks. Evil follows them with a ravenous appetite and if you don't heed my warning, you will die."

Crix was suddenly paying way more attention. "Fascinating. Remind me to ignore your next request." Mal stifled a little laugh and even Beau broke a little but covered it gracefully.

"Before you go," Beau snapped his fingers and a grunt from behind stepped forward with a case. The case was placed on the table, and Beau opened it revealing a pair of antique looking Renegade Heavy Blaster Pistols and of course the requisite ammo.

"Take your weapon. It is the only one you may use during this trial."

"You've gotta be kidding me..." Crix said as he picked up one of the weapons and pocketed half the ammo.

"Find The Gunsmith, Gunslingers. Earn the title, and earn your weapon." Crix felt embarrassed to know Beau right now. He felt an intense compulsion to apologize to Burkhart, because apparently, this adventure was going to be all about Mystic gunslinging... Couldn't he catch a break from all the mysticism in the galaxy for a kiffing second?


@Darasuum

 

[Burkhart Kelborn]

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The sound of a trial and the lack of context made Burkhart wonder what the man meant but he had a feeling Beau would tell them soon enough. It sounded like the man was smoking too many tabac sticks by the way he described the trial of the gunslinger. He wondered if the man was asking if all of them were some sort of neophytes to some cult he was brewing up. Despite Crix's shared skepticism rebel still agreed. When it was Burkhart's turn to answer he blinked slowly and sighed. "Don't have anything better to do." Actually he probably had a lot of better things to do.

The Morling was more skeptical with each sentence the Gunslinger spoke. It was obvious he would probably rig up some of these obstacles himself in addition to the naturally occurring ones. His canine features checked the map, getting an idea of where landmarks were and committing any notable terrain to memory. He could tell Crix was no more pleased than he was by this.

What came next though made the Mandalorian Field Marshal raise an eyebrow. The presentation of the two renegade heavy blaster pistols were nothing to scoff at. He already had acquired a series of high quality hardware over the years but that was certainly something worth working for. Trading in contraband meant he knew just how much the weapons were worth, each. However more than anything he wanted to keep them, or at least one for himself. He wondered how in seven hells the Gunslinger had acquired them and why he was just handing them over. So much for using his light repeater or grenades then.

While the offer of weaponry was appealing the training was not on the same level. He was a mandalorian and had years of Kelborn clan training. He was the Alor of said clan as well and now he was going on some armed spirit quest. At least he would not be alone if he was going to do this.

Standing up from his seat he put his helmet back on his head. Making sure his weapon and ammo were secure he would look to Crix. "We're wastin daylight. Pitter patter, let's get at 'er."

@Zay​

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Crix rose from the table taking the map and tucking it into his tunic pocket. He pulled his DH-7 and slid it to Beau, "Can you make sure this get's to Peetwo. He'll get it to the ship." Beau nodded and Crix nodded his agreement with Burkhart.

"Yeah, let's get this show on the road." The Alliance Smuggler turned to head for the door when Beau said, "Your ride is waiting outside."

Crix's shoulders visibly slumped as he sighed and acknowledged the undoubtedly absurd mode of transportation as he walked through the doors. Outside the cantina sat two dew backs, saddled and equipped for a dessert treck. Crix swore under his breath and approached the animal on the left.

The Dewback hissed at Crix as he approached, but the Jedi was able to calm the beast with a little gentle reassurance from the force. He quickly checked the supplies they'd been allotted. Crix slung a poncho over his shoulders and put on the stupid hat provided. He added a pair of tinted goggles and solidified his appearance as a kriffing holovid character. As dumb as he felt, the poncho, hat, and goggles, would be welcome additions as the twin suns bore down on The Gunslingers as they began their pilgrimage.

Using his personav Crix plotted their destination, he'd play by Beau's limitation when it was just a mild inconvenience, but he wasn't about to get lost in the desert for some weird right of passage. On the horizon, ancient ravines cut small passageways through old tawny mountains. The corridors filled with danger, from Tuskan raiders to wild ravenous beasts.

As they drew near he tipped his hat back and looked to Burkhart, "So, how much of this do you think is Poo Doo?"

@Darasuum

 

[Burkhart Kelborn]

____________

Well his cohort did not seem happy by this. Most likely this was par for the course of gunslinger's antics but it was the first time the mandalorian was experiencing them. He was not sure what to make of it, yet. He would look at Beau before unslinging his light repeating blaster and letting its weight hit the table. He upholstered his VBL-11 blaster pistol and set that down next to it. He used to carry more than that. He would hold onto his melee weapons and his grenades, not because he was planning on using them but he was not about to give them up to a the man he barely knew. The Morling would have kept his violater pistol as well but today he had not brought that with him. "If a shots been fire froom one a these or thar's any new marks on em when I get back I'll make a mark on you got et?" He did not wait for confirmation, he knew that the message was received.

Turning to follow Crix out of the establishment he would see the dewbacks he had passed by earlier. He inhaled slowly and exhaled. Burkhart was a big guy and he just hopped that the beasts of burden were going to be fine to carry his weight. Watch as half way along this journey his gave out.

The two would ride out, into the desert with Crix navigating with his device. Burkhart had one of his own he just checked on occasion to stay consistent with the man. Other than that the two would stay quiet for most of the journey. His own dark armor was hot and he regularly drank water. The poncho he wore was similar in color to the desert so at least it protected him from having to deal with all the sunlight being absorbed by his clan's colors. It probably would have been a good idea to have orange armor instead of black in times like this.

"Prolly quite a bit" He would respond to Crix's question. "If nohthan alse it 'll be good survival trainin" He half joked. They were going to have difficulties one way or another. Whether it was some bandits or probably the risk of heat stroke out in these dunes it was yet to be seen. As a Kelborn though, he had been taught and trained to adapt to the environment often getting thrown into a bad situation and expected to get out of it. This was just a location but the same old thing and one that he volunteered to do. Kad I must be a di'kut for doing this He thought to himself.

@Zay​

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Crix chuckled as Burkhart, yet again, said what he was feeling. Well, the part about this whole thing being bullshit, not the optimism of surprise survival training. The Jedi shifted in his saddle and had to stifle a laugh as he caught sight of Burkhart's Dewbak. The desert lizard seemed as excited about the prospect of a prolonged jaunt into the sun-bleached dunes as Crix did.

Gesturing toward the upcoming ravine Crix said, "Well, looks like we'll know soon enough."

As they closed in on the craggy outcropping ahead, the smuggler took a little time to examine the weapons they'd been provided. The Renegade Heavy Blaster was a staple for anyone claiming to be decent with a gun in the outer rim. The only weapon more feared than the Renegade was the Violator. He frowned as his mind wondered about the origin of the weapon's names. But the moment of introspection was interrupted by the shadow of the peak ahead. A sense of foreboding fell over him as he looked at the defiant mountain jutting up out of the surrounding sands. Something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on the problem.

Deciding to keep his unease to himself, Crix clicked his tongue and his heels coaxing his mount into a trot.

"According to the coordinates, The Gunsmith is in the heart of that range head." Their destination was in sight, but the perils of the mission where still to be revealed.

A short jog later and they found themselves on hard packed ground before a narrow entrance to a serpentine path. Crix's sense of foreboding had grown into a sense of dread as if on queue the cries of Tuskan raiders reverberated off the stone walls laying open before them.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

@Darasuum

 

[Burkhart Kelborn]

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While Burkhart had a dark tinted helmet it was still bright out with the twin suns beating down and reflecting on the light sand dunes. Underneath his helmet his eyes squinted to compensate. Keeping his head looking around the morling kept sniffing the air periodically, trying to pick up the scent of something else nearby but so far it would seem the two travelers were alone with their dewback mounts.

When they moved into the shadow of the mountain he would be glad for the cooler shade. But it would be short lived since his body would still be overheated. When Crix spoke up about the location he would murmur a confirmation. This whole area had plenty of spots for sharp shooters to fire down on. Luckily for them, Tusken Raiders did not use grappling hooks or jetpacks. But they sstill had some pretty remarkable long range solid projectile weapons. They were not an enemy to be taken lightly.

The two would make their way through some winding paths until it started to get so narrow they would probably have to dismount their beasts of burden. Leaping down he guided the dewback forward with the reigns. Underneath his helmet Burkhart's ears twitched. The sound of sand people cries were not something one got used to easily, even a seasoned warrior like the Kelborn Alor.

"I think we'd kno if they were here for oos. Either that or they're doom as hel fer revealin themselves to us. He said and brought his heavy blaster to the ready. He would activate his jetpack and fly up to the a perch ahead and overlooking the winding path. Raiders were not the only ones that knew the advantages of the high ground.

@Zay​

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Their passage through the ravine was tense but uneventful. Crix held his antique renegade aloft in a readied position as he led his Dewback on foot. Tuscan Raider cries continued to echo across the path leaving the anxiety of impending attack at the forefront of his mind. The Gunslinger's brow was furrowed in concent reaction as he dipped into the force felling for any nearby threats. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't spot a threat. Refusing to rely on his tenuous force ability he leaned on his experience.

With steady steps, they crept through the ravine, Burkhart took point with his jet pack. Jetpacks were awesome... he should have joined the Mandalorians. With envy apparent in his expression, Crix took a moment to examine his personav and the map. He activated his com and hailed Burkhart, "You see anything?"

Their expedition led them to a clearing located in the center of the craggy range. A small warehouse lay in the center of the clearing a PA system was blaring the cries of Tuscan Raiders and Crix arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

"A deterrent?" he asked to no one in particular.

The main reinforced rolldown door ascended revealing a single figure standing in the warehouse's open maw. The being wore a wide brim hat and a red mottled poncho half slung over his right shoulder. The human... no Arkanian strode forth. His hand rested on the butt of a modified heavy blaster and his expression was a mixture of challenge and indignance. He was not stoked they were here.

Crix stopped just withing shouting range.

"Beau Pritchett sent us." Crix said. The Smuggler lowered his weapon but didn't put it away. He was respectful, not stupid.

"Do you follow the Path of the Gunslinger?" Asked The Arkanian. Crix blinked disbelievingly, stunned for a moment at the absurdity of their current situation.

Recovering he cleared his voice and said, "Uh... yeah."

A smile parted the beings lips and as he turned toward the warehouse he said, "I've awaited your arrival, follow me."

Crix frowned asking, "Are you The Gunsmith?"

The Arkanian looked back with a knowing smile, "My name is Anders, and yes, I'm The Gunsmith."

@Darasuum

 

[Burkhart Kelborn]

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His feet walked across the sunbaked ground. The flat hard rock he walked across did not leave any foot prints of his own nor of any possible individuals that traversed it prior. His canine eyes looked back and forth searching for possible silohuettes, disturbed rocks or other hints of threats but none came. When Crix called up to him he would respond simply back. "Nuthin." But that would change as he got into view of the warehouse up ahead. "Structure up ahead. Not sandpeople ."

Finally they would make it to an opening and Burkhart would leap off and clearing cliff like perch so that he was then side by side with his human cohort again. He cocked his head to the side as he analyzed the "Keep yer wits about' cha." he warned in response. The Morling was not sure what to make of it, yet.

With the doors rising as they approached he tensed, wondering what would come out. A squad of bandits, a stampede of beasts, a hail of fire perhaps. But none of those came, instead it was a lone arkanian, Anders was his name it would seem. Like both Crix and Burkhart, the Gunsmith did not seem as enthusiastic as the man that had sent them on this quest. Looking over at Crix Burkhart just shrugged and followed after poncho wearing gunman.

End Thread

@Zay​