Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Takes place immediately after the Battle of Yavin
Tales and stories set during the events of Episodes 4-6...

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Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

"Starport Control this is CDF Shuttle..." Risto paused a handful of seconds to glance at the flimsy secured to a clipboard next to his pilots chair. "Seven Zero Two Niner, making our final approach, requesting permission to land, over." He clicked off the transmitter with a lazy swipe of his hand before returning his attention to the crowded skyways above Coronet City.

"Shuttle Seven Zero Two Niner, this is Starport Control you are cleared for landing, Hangar Bay One Four, over." The voice of the Control Operator came through the transmitter with a slightly robotic tone.

"That's a good copy, Control; Bay One Four. Seven Zero Two Niner out." The words rolled off his tongue as naturally as any other citizen would say 'Hello, how are you doing?'. Risto Quinn had been operating as a shuttle-jockey for the Corellian Defense Force for just about three years now. Ever since he'd been booted out of Vensenor Flight Academy; Risto had taken the discharge rather harshly. His normal drive to achieve greatness dampened to the point that he'd resolved to making a career out of flying these unarmed shuttles to and from the planet, ferrying Defense Force members to their posts on the Orbital stations.

In a moment of introspection, Risto examined his features in the reflection of the forward viewport. He had what his mother had always referred to as striking green eyes, and hair as dark as the depths of space itself. He possessed a hard and distinguished pair of cheekbones and a moderately protruding jaw line. All in all, he considered his appearance to be unassuming. As a teen that had been a problem for him, but now... Well, now he was all about blending in.

A quick shake of his head brought him out of the distracting thoughts, and back to the present. Practiced hands slid their way across the metallic control surface of the orbital shuttle, extending flaps, reversing thrusters, activating the landing gear. It was a process he executed dozens of times each day, countless times each week. Risto went about the task with a detached enthusiasm one would normally compare to the activity of... lacing their boots in the morning. He made it look just as easy, too.

In moments, the shuttle had settled down on its landing struts, the engines winding down and its handful of passengers disembarking. Some thanked him for the smooth flight, most never bothered. It was, after all, his job. A job that was almost over, at least for this day, that was. The pilot needed only to perform his post-flight maintenance checks, and then transfer over possession of the craft to the next shifts pilot. Then he would be relieved for the day. So just as he went through the motions of piloting the docile craft, he too, went about the mundane task of post-flight checks...
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

Quinn let out a slight grunt as he extricated himself from the final maintenance hatch, brushing grease stained hands off on the thighs of his flight suit before turning around and stretching his five foot nine inch frame upward in order to close the hatch.

"They oughta issue you a step-stool, huh Quinn." A voice sneered from somewhere over his shoulder.

Risto smirked slightly as he turned to face the newcomer. "You know, surprisingly enough, even after two years of hearing it... Never gets old." He replied sarcastically, extending his hand out to the other pilot for a friendly shake. "How are things, Liaten?"

"Good, things are good. The wife is due any day now, the twins are sick again, still working on that leaky faucet... Have I reminded you lately to never marry?" Jimm Liaten replied. The man was easily a full head taller than Risto, and skinny as a pole. Some of the CDF personnel called him Lurch. Unlike Risto, Jimm had dusty brown hair and the same shade of eyes to match.

Risto chuckled slightly and slapped the much taller pilot on the shoulder. "Only every day, Jimm." He handed Jimm his clipboard and the pilot signed over receipt of the craft. "Keep an eye on the starboard nacelle. It started to fluctuate about halfway through the shift."

The pair exchanged small talk for a few more minutes and then said their goodbyes. Risto was nearly to the pilots locker-room before he heard a commotion somewhere down the corridor to his right. Senses of self-preservation told him to ignore the sound. You've done your bit for the day, Quinn... Clock out, forget all about it and just go home. The thought was certainly tempting. He could already taste the frosted mug of ale that awaited him at his favorite Cantina... Yet when his legs started moving, they took him down the corridor and away from the locker room.

"You've got this all wrong!" A voice came from around the corner of a bulkhead, it was impossible to miss the sense of urgency in the tone.

"I don't think so, Watkins. You and your pals here are part of the Resistance. You're traitors, the lot of you." Another voice, this one was angry, and eerily familiar.

Risto was a handful of meters away from the bend when he heard the whine of a blaster pistol charging and without thinking his gait hastened from a walk to a full sprint. "What- What are you doing? You can't just shoot us, we haven't done anything wrong. You have no proof! No wai--"

His boots thudded down the hallway as he ran, but he hardly noticed. It wasn’t as if he was trying to sneak up on the situation, anyway. A moment or two later he skidded his way around the corner, then came to a staggering halt just in time to witness a man in the uniform of the Corellian Defense Forces open fire on four seemingly unarmed civilians. After he skidded to a halt he realized that two of them were also wearing CDF uniforms. "What in the hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed, the words out of his mouth before he even realized he'd thought them.

The assailant whipped around at the sound of Risto's voice, and that was when his morbid suspicions were confirmed. The gunman was none other than a fellow pilot, Besh Dyson. Besh was heavier set than Risto and Jimm. He had a darker brown hair than Jimm and cold looking blue eyes; a trait made strikingly more obvious in the current situation. "What.. What are you doing here, Quinn?" Besh demanded, pointing the blaster pistol in his direction threateningly.

"I heard the shouting... Besh.. you just killed these men. What were you thinking?"

"They were part of the Resistance. Filthy Rebels." He sneered. "If you ask me, blasting them was too merciful of a death."

"Rebel or not, that doesn't justify murder Besh!" Risto watched Dyson's face harden, his brows lowering into a scowl as the main once again raised his weapon.

"You one of em, too? Is that it?" He demanded.

Risto glanced over his shoulder and started to back away slowly. The young pilot was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he was unarmed, and most certainly in over his head.

"Stop right there. Quin!"

He couldn't think of what else to do, Risto turned and bolted in the opposite direction. He tried to zig and zag as Dyson opened fire, and for a moment he thought it was working. Little did he know, that Dyson had given up trying to hit him and instead had targeted a hanging sign, shooting one of its anchors and causing the sign to swing downward. The sign impacted into the side of Risto's head and his vision went red for a moment. He managed to maintain consciousness, however, and staggered around the corner and never looked back.

Quinn tore through the complex at top speed, barreling over other employees until he burst from the starport, hailing a hovercab and piling into the vehicle. He rattled off a destination, or at least he attempted to... Not much more than babble came out of his lips as his eyelids suddenly grew heavy and he blacked out.
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

His eyes slowly blinked once, then twice before finally opening fully to a confusing sight. At first all he saw was a bright light, then the room slowly began to come into focus... bleach-white walls… stainless steel instruments… that ultra-clean sort of smell… a hospital? A moment after the realization of where he was hit him, so did the headache.

"Woah..." He groaned, reaching up with his right hand to press at his temple. He felt a bandage wrapped around his head and winced. "Um... Hello?" He called out groggily.

"Ah, Mr. Quinn, you're awake." a doctor spoke, stepping forward to glance at some monitors before turning to look down at Risto. "How are you feeling?" The doctor looked more or less like any other doctor Risto had seen in his life. He had graying hair and moved deliberately though with a certain hitch that only came with age and experience. The man narrowed a pair of brown eyes behind the lenses of gold rimmed glasses as he examined Risto from the bedside.

"Like I've been sucked through an intake valve... What happened?"

"Well, we were hoping you might be able to tell us, Mr. Quinn. You were brought to us after losing consciousness in the back of a hovercab this evening. It would appear that you took quite a blow to the head. You don't... remember any of this?"

Risto squinted his eyes slightly as he listened to the doctor. He shook his head a bit and then slammed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea hit him. "Ugh..."

"You should rest." the doctor spoke. "Some memory trouble is to be expected with such a severe concussion. Rest assured you will recover fully in time, though. All of our scans came back negative for any brain damage. You have, however, suffered from something we call Acquired Heterochromia."

"Say what, doc?" Risto asked immediately.

The doctor moved forward and held a small mirror in front of Risto's face. "The force of whatever hit you ruptured some of the blood vessels in your right ocular cavity. Sometimes, as is the case with you, this causes an iron deposition which affects the coloration of the iris."

Risto studied his reflection for a few brief moments, then sighed slightly. So his left eye was mostly brown, now… Great. "Permanent?" he asked.

"In most cases, yes." the doctor replied. "Please, take some time to rest, Mr. Quinn. I'll return later to check on you again."

The doctor left the room and Risto resumed rubbing at his forehead. After a handful of minutes, he grew bored with the silence of the room and reached over to grab hold of a remote, activating the holo-panel in the corner of the room. The news was on. He tried to avoid watching it lately, already more than tired of hearing about the Rebellion...

"Rebellion!" He hissed the word, his recollection returning suddenly. He was about to call the doctor back to the room to ask to speak to the authorities, when the man on the vid spoke his name.

"...one Risto Quinn. A former shuttle pilot for the CDF, Quinn is wanted in association to the murder of four citizens and is suspected to be a member of the Rebel Alliance. If you see this man or have any knowledge of his whereabouts it has been requested that you contact CorSec immediately. Do not, and I stress this point, do not approach Quinn directly as he is considered to be armed and extremely dangerous."

Risto didn't hear the rest of the man’s words. Sirens were going off at a deafening volume in his head. So Dyson turned around and blamed this mess on me. That slimy Huttspawn. Risto rose up slightly in an attempt to see through the window of the room. It was hard to tell if anyone out in the corridor had heard what he had, but he knew better than to stick around to find out. He reached over to his left arm and yanked out the IV catheter, wincing as the tape tore out some of the hair from his arm. He then swung over the edge of the bed, intent to hop to his feet, but only managed to send the room into a tail spin as dizziness overcame him. Quinn grabbed hold of the edge of the bed to maintain his balance as he willed his vision to steady itself.

Several moments later, he managed to find his uniform and changed out of the hospital gown and back into his own clothes as quickly as he was able to. Unfortunately, that was the easy bit. He crouched near the door and peered out the window, watching as nurses and doctors went about their business. Nothing seemed to be amiss... He needed to get out of this place, and fast. He slid the door open as slowly and quietly as possible, then slipped out of it and shuffled quickly along the wall. He made it within two meters of the lifts before one of their doors slid open and a trio of CorSec agents stepped out.

"Shavvit." Risto cursed under his breath.

"Risto Quinn! Stop right there!" one of them shouted.

He had no intention of doing that, however. For the second time that day Risto turned and sprinted away from an individual drawing a bead on him with a blaster. He careened around a counter, nearly colliding with a nurse. He narrowly managed to avoid her, stumbling off balance slightly he heard the woman scream as she was struck by a stunbolt that had been meant for him. Quinn didn't dare glance backwards. He burst through the door to the stair case and started down taking two, sometimes three steps at a time.

Luck finally seemed to be on Quinn's side, as it appeared that the authorities hadn't managed to cordon off the hospital yet. He reached the ground floor and careened out into the walkways of the city. A fervent look around allowed him to gather his bearings, and the Corellian took off to his left.

He knew better than to think he could escape CorSec; especially here on Corellia. Dyson had sealed his fate the moment he'd pinned those murders on him. Until, or if Risto could ever prove that Dyson had been the shooter, he would no longer be safe in the Corellian Sector. He needed to get to the nearest spaceport, and he needed to get there fast. CorSec was good, but even they had limits. Space traffic in and out of the system occurred at a staggering scale, they couldn't have possibly locked down the system yet.
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

It was the longest ten minutes of Risto's life, but he'd managed to dodge another pair of CorSec patrols and had arrived at one of Coronet's lesser used starports. Keeping his face turned downwards in hopes of avoiding detection, he entered one of the massive public berths that held several starships. A cursory glance of the bay showed a handful of familiar looking CEC designed craft, a couple smaller shuttle craft, one larger corvette class craft... all of which seemed to either be manned already, or at the least had crew members nearby.

The hair on the back of Risto's neck began to rise and he could feel that his time was running out. He ducked back out of that hangar, slipping back into the crowd of one of the main corridors.
He slipped into an identical bay to the first one and looked around again. His heart began to sink as he started to experience similar results. He began to think that he might end up having to take a ship by force after all, a thought that did not sit well with him in the slightest...

And then it happened. A courier vessel lifted up on repulsorlifts, tilting towards the sky and then climbing out of the hangar, revealing behind it a starship of a model that Risto couldn’t quite identify. Yet, as his newly mismatched eyes fell on the ships trio of engines and dorsal ridge... He felt his pulse quicken slightly. This ship... It was special. He could somehow sense it. Quinn started towards the craft, glancing left and right to make sure no one was taking any extra notice of the man dressed in a CDF flightsuit walking through the hangar.

He was five meters away from the ship when he saw the teal colored chassis of an LE-Series Repair Droid shuffling its way across the hangar. Deviating his course just slightly, Risto approached the droid. "Hey, stop right there. What's your designation?" He asked the droid.

"Oh, excuse me sir." the droid stopped and faced Quinn, aiming its one photoreceptor in his direction. "I am LE-VI262, property of the Corell--"

"Yes, yes I know. LE-VI262. I've been looking everywhere for you, where have you been?"

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I do not know what you are referring to, I am--"

"Ah, ah, ah. Listen Levi, we don't have time to waste with introductions. You've been re-assigned to be my assistant and we have a job to do, right away." Risto interrupted, grabbing the droid by its arm and forcing it to start shuffling in the direction of the ship that he'd picked out.

"Re-assigned, oh my. I have no record of this directive... I'll have to check in with--"

Risto frowned slightly and sighed, before pulling a plasma-cutter from a nearby bench and activating it. “Alright, I didn’t want to do it this way… But you’re coming with me, Levi, or I’ll slice you into spare parts.”

"Oh my."

They finally reached the craft and Risto quickly looked the ship over. It was certainly a CEC design… Something older, definitely before the YV series launched… The YT influence was hard to miss. It was modified, but that was hardly a surprise. The craft possessed the usual spherical shaped hull of CEC’s light freighter models, and had a center mounted cockpit. The strange bit, was that it seemed to have a rather large cargo section that seemed to jut out of the bow, causing the ship to land with its nose pointed up at an angle towards the sky.

It almost looked to Risto like it was some sort of predator, coiled and ready to pounce. "Alright Levi, we need to get into this ship, right away."

The droid shuffled up to the panel, took one look at it, then turned back to Risto. "It appears to be locked, Sir. Would you please input the passcode?"

Risto growled in frustration, then looked back at the droid. He fired up the cutter again. “Just get this ramp opened, now.” He quickly looked over his shoulder, silently praying that he hadn’t run out of time.

"Oh, yes sir. Right away." the droid turned back to the panel and quickly set to work. Risto paced slightly and kept his head on a swivel. He felt as though CorSec would be descending on him at any moment now, his heart was racing and he was nearly in a cold sweat from the anxiety. After what felt like an eternity, the sound of hissing hydraulics and grinding metal brought a relieved sigh from his lips.

"Great. Now get in." he spoke, ushering the flustered droid up inside of the ship and closing the ramp behind them. The hatch sealed itself as the pair made their way to the lift. They rode it up passed the systems level, and to what appeared to be the main level of the craft. Risto hardly had time to examine the craft, however much he'd like to. Instead, he and the droid hurried their way through the cylindrical corridors of the craft and into the cockpit where Risto slipped into the pilots seat. He directed Levi to take a seat in the co-pilots chair only to find out that the controls were locked as well.

"Levi, I'm going to need to you deactivate these safeguards."

"But--" The droid started to protest, but stopped just as suddenly as Risto brandished the cutters one more time. Levi reluctantly did as it was told, and blue and red backlighting came to life all across the surfaces of the cockpit and Quinn couldn't help but smirk a little bit.

"Say, Levi, do you know what type of craft this is?" Risto asked curiously.

"Of course, sir. This is a CEC manufactured YL-510 Light Freighter.” the droid leaned forward and started to toggle controls at his station. "This particular model is designated--"

"We can cover that later, Levi. YL series, eh? Well let's get going then, Levi." he spoke, hands tingling slightly as they flitted over the control surfaces, first bringing the reactor online, telling the ships computer to run the most abbreviated of pre-flight sequences, then setting about familiarizing himself with the controls.

"Won't we be contacting Starport Control for clearances?" Levi asked from the co-pilots station.

"Oh, that. No we've already been given prior clearance." Risto spoke, reaching over and disengaging the comms. He then slipped the crash webbing on and activated the repulsorlifts.
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

As Risto brought the craft up on its repulsors and twisted it about to face out of the hangar, he could see the commotion on the deck below as Spaceport workers reacted to the unscheduled departure. Well, that's that. Made our move, no turning back now Risto thought to himself quickly powering the lifts to full, hoping to gain altitude more quickly. The sooner he could engage sublights and make for space, the better. Several long seconds later he had reached the minimum safe distance. He didn't hesitate. with one hand on the control yoke, he gripped the sublight throttle with the other and in one swift motion he threw it to the stoplocks.

The craft shuddered just slightly in protest, but as sudden as a strike of lightning the drives lit, catapulting the craft at a bone jarring pace through the sky and towards the edges of the planets atmosphere. Risto could vaguely hear Levi's shrill protests, but they did not register in his mind. He was mesmerized by the feel of the freighter as it carried him towards freedom.

Unfortunately, not everyone was as pleased with that concept as he was. It took mere moments for the sensors to pick up the planets response to his impromptu takeoff. The CDF had scrambled a flight of starfighters from a nearby planetary base, and the HLAF's were now rocketing their way across the sky on an intercept course. No doubt that the Sector Fleet had deployed some sort of response from their orbiting forces as well. Probably a picket craft, maybe more fighters as well. Beads of sweat began to form on Risto’s forehead and just above his lip as the full realization of his predicament finally set in.

I’m a fugitive.

Thankfully, he didn’t have the time to dwell on that thought at the moment. With a flight of starfighters moving in on a swift intercept course, Risto’s freedom was hinging solely on his ability to pilot his newly acquired craft past the Sector Fleet and to clear Corellia’s gravity well so that he would be able to make the jump to hyperspace...

Evading pursuit and breaking through a blockade sure is a helluva way to familiarize yourself with a spacecraft, Quinn He thought to himself sarcastically as his eyes scanned the control surfaces in front of him. Thankfully CEC designs were more standardized than some of the other Galaxies shipwrights products. He was able to find and activate the ships shields easily enough, before firing up the Navicomputer and started to—

The first warning shots from the HLAF’s illuminated space around the craft, causing the cockpit to polarize momentarily in response. Time’s up He cursed to himself, even as Levi was going droid-crazy next to him.

“Hey! Tin-Can!” Risto shouted as he struggled with the yoke, taking the freighter into a wide roll. “Why don’t you quit shrieking and pull up the Nav-log on this boat. Once we’re out of the planets gravity well we’re going to need to make a jump.”

“But sir…”

“Listen Levi, if you don’t get that jump ready the combined forces of the CDF, your old bosses, are going to turn this whole freighter into molten slag. So if you have even the smallest amount of self preservation programming, it would behoove you to find the easiest jump that’s still recorded into the ships log, and make sure it’s ready to go when I hit the lever, got it?”

The droids photo-receptor blinked once, as if in thought, and then it fell silent. But more importantly, it got to work. Out of the corner of his eye, Risto could see the Navi-comp starting up and running through its processes. Small victory, and they were going to need a handful more if they were to live to see tomorrow.

As if on cue, the ship rocked suddenly as one of the starfighters managed to land a shot against their shields. Risto snapped out of his inner thoughts and back to the task at hand. He could now see on the ships sensors that he was right, the Sector Fleet had indeed dispatched a picket craft to aid in their capture.

“Skrag!” Risto cursed to himself before arcing the craft up to port and away from the closing picket. So far the ships shields were holding out against the starfighters lighter powered laser cannons and therefore they were the safer alternative than trying to test out the larger crafts heavier weaponry. “How are we coming with that Nav data, Levi?” he asked, voice strained as the intertial dampner struggled to compensate for his aggressive maneuvers.

“I’ve just finished preparing a short Hyperspace jump to—“

“Good. Good.” Risto interrupted the droid. “I saw a blastercannon mounted up top, see if there’s any automated programming for that thing, we need to keep these fighters at a safer distance or else they’ll just keep chewing away at these shields.”

After a few more frantic seconds of flying the droid finally responded. “I’ve found the controls for the automated defenses, Sir.”

“Well what are you waiting for then, start them up.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, sir.”
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

“Well why the hells no—“ Risto didn’t get a chance to finish that particular sentence. Levi had gotten out of the copilots seat and was now… attacking him? “Levi what are you—“

“I cannot allow you to activate them, either, Sir. It is against my programming to destroy any property of the Correllian Defense Force.” The droid replied as it tossed a surprised and startled Risto to the deck, sending the craft into a frenzied spiral.

The dampner struggled to kick in immediately, and as a result the droid was thrown back against the far bulkhead, while Risto was pinned beneath the console. A handful of moments later the damnpers finally managed to draw enough power to restore some order to the ships internal gravity, and Risto wasted not time.

He scrambled out from beneath the console and across the bulkhead to where the droid had fallen to the deck and was currently struggling to right itself. Fortunately for Quinn he reached the droid as its back was turned and immediately toggled the droids power switch. Risto fell back to the deck, letting out a relived sigh as he fought to catch his breath. The sudden shake of yet another laser blast on their shields cut the break short and brought him rapidly back to the present. He wasn’t out of danger yet.

Hurrying back to the pilots seat he righted the freighters spin and put them into a steep climb to regain what ground he’d lost during the skirmish with the droid. “Starforsaken Automaton!” He growled back at the deactivated hunk of the droid briefly, then took a handful of seconds to call up the ships active defenses. With a satisfying thrum the turret atop the craft came to life and nearly immediately the starfighters pulled back to re-group.

That was his chance. As quickly as possible, Risto shunted power from the ships shields and other systems and poured it all into the engines to increase his sublight speed. It was time to run. The ship burst forward and he watched with fervent attention as they came closer and closer to the edge of the gravity well. The starfighters were still giving chase, pouring blasterfire into the ships aft shields as they did so. He could only hope that they held out long enough to make the jump.

“To the hells!” Quinn shouted as alarms suddenly began screeching in the cockpit. The shields had been overloaded and were not shut down. He gripped down on the yoke until his knuckles were white, silently coaxing the craft to hold together just a few more seconds… He couldn’t help but wince as the ship began to take fire directly to the hull. The craft bucked and shuddered in protest, but continued on.
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by VagueDurin »

5… 4… 3… 2… Another alarm sounded; proximity alert. One or more of the starfighters had unleashed a torpedo in their direction. “Shavitt!” …1! Quinn reached out and slammed back the hyperdrive lever. He had no idea where they were headed, and was placing blind faith in a droid who had just attacked him to have inputted the right information into the navicomp… But what choice did he have at this point? The stars blurred a bit, then stretched out into bright lines as the ship accelerated and in the space of a blink, the viewport was filled with the mottled blues and whites of hyperspace.
Risto let out a slow sigh of relief. He was safe… For now...

****4 Standard Months Later…****

The Fur of Akk Cantina was a bustling joint. Well, as bustling as a joint got on the darker sides of Chandrilla’s Silver Sea district. Located next door to a well disguised house of ill repute, the ‘Akk was where one chose to go to make… deals. The folks in the know were aware of the dealings that went down within its stained walls, and for the right amount of credits, one could potentially make a hire for just about any sort of job.

Of course, it was still a Cantina, after all. Which meant it came fully stocked with all the amenities one might expect from such. A fully stocked bar, several Sabbacc tables, some holo-games in the corner… One might classify the Fur of Akk as a.. happening place. It certainly was today.

“This vest, was a gift to me… From the Viscountess of Valahari!” Quinn indignantly exclaimed, swiping some of the spilled Vinta Harvest Ale from the garment. The expression on his face was one of partial disgust, but also partial disappointment at the waste of some fine beverage. He set his Sabbacc cards down and narrowed his mismatched eyes as he looked over the patron who’d just bumped into the table...
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Re: Unsung Heroes: To The Hells and Back

Post by Arkov Bane »

Truly, a man trapped by circumstance.
No greater an honor there is than to lay down my life for my Brother.
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