Zsoldos - Vizsla Territory Saga
Located in the forested crags of Ullr, the great drinking hall known as Saga overlooks the great northern oceans of Zsoldos. On most days, the surrounding forests offered a tranquil beauty that you could spend months exploring. The more daring found a sense of thrill standing at the edge of the cliff face while waves roared and sprayed up from below.
An ancient, natural wonder could be felt in this place, but was too often ignored for the gossip, drink, and debauchery that lived inside Saga.
Built from the strong timber of the land, Saga is a rustic structure harkening back to a time before prefabricated buildings and the comforts of modern living. Many great dining tables line the hall and are often occupied by Ullr’s warrior elite, mercenaries, Bounty Hunters and anyone looking to celebrate the joy of surviving another miserable day.
Today, however, a bitterness had settled in. Not from the blistering cold that howled out the hall. But rather from the tempers that flared inside.
“This is exactly why the bounties should be Vizsla-only!” A voice howled from the back of the drinking hall.
“Really, it’s an argument for mandalorians only!” Another voice interjected and a chorus of insults were thrown their way followed by a mug that crashed into the wooden wall. Heads turned to the mug’s owner.
“I don’t need to be mandalorian to be Vizsla and I will have one of your Taung duels with any of you that says different!”
As the tempers further flared, a hand was firmly raised at the centre chair of the head table. Beside its occupant, the reptilian voice of Kindle called for all to be silent. Once all were quiet and back in their seats, attention turned to the head table.
“For that to happen, you would need to get in line behind me, Aiden.” Lontra put a firmness to his voice to stress the point and then stood, the sound of wood scraping against stone rang out as his seat was knocked back. “However, to be welcomed in these halls you must follow our code. But that hasn’t happened here tonight, with multiple people claiming credit for a bounty that only could have been done by one is conduct that is unbecoming of Vizsla!”
“Absolutely!” A voice cried out from the chorus of agreement. They were all immediately cut short by the heavy slam of the hall’s front doors. Heads turned to the deep voice that bellowed from the back of the room and all watched as its owner marched slowly to the head table.
Clad entirely in beskar painted in pink, the man carried an oversized axe on his shoulder. When he arrived at the head table, the man plunged his axe into the thick oak table and left it there for all to observe.
“Then let’s bring these four before us and find out who the real killer is. The rest will be put to the axe.” The deep voice of Vajizzilor roared over all the heads in the hall. Immediately several tables were pushed aside to allow for four chairs to sit opposite the head table. Over the sound of excited movement, Lontra directed orders to anyone listening.
“Each of you go get a prisoner and bring them here to be watched. Kindle, go set up an interrogation room, use the pantry off the kitchen. And have someone else start turning over their rooms.”
“Go!”
Having been sitting in the back of the Saga drinking hall Siorc turned to watch as Vajizzilor entered the hall. He had a bit of envy at the size of the almost mythical figures axe. The Axe nearly cleaved the table in half as it was slammed down.
Listening intently as the pink armored Mandalorian spoke Siorc nodded along. This was going to be a bad day for three people, their last day. The Vizsla way however must be upheld.
Without waiting for someone to volunteer Siorc immediatly got up and headed to the bunk room at the Drinking hall. It almost resembled a military barracks with rows of double decker beds and lockers for personal effects. Identifying the individual lockers of the four bounty hunters was fairly easy and Siorc prepared to go through their lockers and shake down their bunks.
Bounty Hunting was like most other businesses; it was best to be professional. While having spent a considerable amount of time in Clan Vizsla, Hector Von Ricmore couldn’t say he knew this Vajizzilor well. But if the Mandalorian wanted to claim a role in the investigation of bounty claims, well, who was Hector to stop him?
Before joining the investigation proper, the Clawdite made a stop at the bar. A quick flash of his Ad Vizsla challenge coin and he was one drink richer, at no cost to his credits. Nursing his glass of Corellian Whisky on the rocks, the Force User decided that he would investigate the belongings of the one who wasn’t Mandalorian. Many in Clan Vizsla subscribed to the creed but Hector was not one of them. It would probably be best if he or another like him handled that part of the investigation. It would not be desirable for biases or differences in religion to impact the truth of the investigation.
.
“Ehhh, watch out, darlin” Kel Cerar grumbled, swatting the fanny of the blonde haired Gamorrean glam-hog that was sitting on his lap. Her squeal caused Jim Nova who had been sitting at another table to toss his hand up and look around with a look as if to say “Is anyone else seeing this?” suffice it to say, had he still had a biological mouth, he would have vomited.
Kel’s bones creaked as he pushed himself up with a grunt and grabbed a large axe of his own that leaned against the booth. A thing of beauty, of legend. “Does he have an axe and an arm cannon, sir?” an HK droid buzzed in Nova’s ear. “Impressive.”
He was impressive indeed, hell, there were few that hadn’t heard his name around Saga, or the Galaxy for that matter. A veteran of countless wars. Give him enough drink and you’ll even hear him spin tales about zombie Dark Jedi or Grand Master’s fighting cloned versions of themselves. Bringing in another poor soul? child’s play.
As he passed Siorc, who was heading towards the bunks, he smirked. “Tell that Rattattaki bastard he still owes me a drink.” He chuckled to himself as he stepped up to the table. Admiring the axe that was sunk into the wood.
“So what is it then?”
The others looked at him puzzled.
“Kickin and screamin, or not movin at all?”
Coming to the bunk of Draven Kryll, Siorc began the most unorganized looking search imaginable. He ripped the bedding and mattress apart. Picked up the footlocker and dumped its contents onto the floor. What it lacked in organization it made up for in speed.
Flipping the entire bed frame over was his last step in the process. With everything now exposed in a massive pile Siorc began the task of going through the items.
Siorc sifted through the wreckage of his search, carefully moving through the items in a grid-like pattern. At one moment, the Evereni pulled a receipt from the rubbish and was in the midst of crinkling it up before he had a thought.
Who keeps paper receipts in this day and age? He thought.
In an attempt to smooth out the note, Soirc’s eyes widened at the realization of what had been discovered. He was on his feet immediately and back to the Great Hall. Stopping by the head table, Soirc paused momentarily as he was unsure to whom to deliver the report. Thankfully Lontra stepped forward, resolving the issue.
Taking a brief moment to look over the note, the Consul nodded but showed no emotion to the information. Instead, Lontra was quick to bark follow up orders.
“Keep looking through their belongings and would someone start interrogating them!”
.
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