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| - Gummot's Tavern Inside this hollowed volcanic dome, one finds a sulfur-lamplit haven full of reptiloids hunched at tables and around a stone-carved counter, grumbling and drinking all manner of foul-smelling watery beverages. One corner of the tavern is set aside for ritualistic combat - a little something for the locals to let off some steam. Urthmok stomps into the tavern, making his way toward the stone-carved counter. LeBeau is already sitting up at the bar. An amber colored liquaid filling a glass infront of him as he splits his attention between the holo viewer and other occupants of teh tavern. The robed Zangali reaches up to draw back the hood of his robe with clawed hands. The folds of brown fabric slip down from his spine-spoked scalp to drape behind his thick-fleshed neck. He stops to LeBeau's right, resting a hand on the countertop, and growls something in Zantra to the bartender. The bartender nods his scaled snout, then heads back to work on a drink for the Zangali. A dissheveled humanoid figure enters the tavern, less than comfortable but too tired to show any emotion other than indifference. Picking a (mostly) unoccupied section of the bar, Cedrict takes a seat, but does not order anything. LeBeau turns to look at his side once the large lizard stops just a foot or two down the bar from him. He lets his eyes move over the Zangali's robe and head before he nods swiftly "Some weather yu ar having. Fin id actually quide comfordable myself." Four Nall, each the same height and same general appearance, wearing the black armor of the Clawed Fist Fleet, stalk into the tavern. Their tails lash back and forth as they move, cradling plasma rifles as they survey the tavern occupants with beady black eyes. As a bucket of rancid, gray water bobbing with rotten vegetables is slid across the counter to Urthmok, the Zangali glances toward LeBeau and grunts. "Urthmok like." His gaze then drifts toward the arriving Nall, and his eye membranes flick. His fangs gnash. As the doors to the tavern open and the howl winds and cold air flow int the room LeBeau's attention is drawn to the door and the recent arrival of the Nall soldiers. He then lifts his glass and gulps down half the liquid as he watches them for a moment before glancing back up to the Throw Bar tournement championship playing on the holoviewer. The bartender, a Grimlahdi of about five feet height, stomps out from behind the counter and makes his way toward the four Nall. He bobs his snout, then bows to one of the soldiers, muttering something in hissy-sounding Naliese. The Nall lifts his snout, then responds in Naliese. The Grimlahdi nods, bows once more, then heads back toward the tavern. The Nall warriors then split up, patrolling the tavern and eyeing the occupants with cold consideration. Not wanting to attract any special attention, Cedrict appears engrossed in straightening out his slightly bent spectacles, and wiping dust and fingerprints off the lenses with the sleeve of his shirt. Urthmok leans toward LeBeau as the Nall begin their inspection. "Urthmok think offworlder not want stay." LeBeau leans in towards Urthmok to listen to the large reptile's words and nods in agreement. "I tink yer righ. Any idea wha dis migh be aboud?" He then ask as he finishes off what is left in his glass and moves to stand. "Urthmok have some idea," the Zangali grumbles as he turns toward LeBeau. His clawed hands reach up toward the front of his robe as the bartender walks behind him, stepping around the counter. Before he can open the robe, however, a Nall pokes a plasma rifle barrel between LeBeau and Urthmok. The Nall hisses something in Naliese. Urthmok flexes his scalp rills, lowering his snout to stare down at the Nall. He rumbles something in Zantra at the Nall, then looks toward LeBeau. "Urthmok think offworlder go while can." Cedrict Trainor rises from his chair, face flushed. Quickly grabbing his pack from off the bar, he heads broskly for the exit, head down. One of the Nall stands in the doorway, eyeing Cedrict suspiciously. LeBeau glances out of the corner of his eye as the business end of a rifle is jutted between himself and Urthmok. He nods as he slowly moves to slide off his stool. Being sure to keep his arm visable at all times "Yeah I tink yer righ. messing wit da Nall es no on my to do lis fo today" Cedrict Trainor stops short of the door, pausing for moment as he realizes the girth of the Nall. "I, I, I.." he stammers, gulping air. "i'm sorry, I don't want any part of this". He then pauses, considering if the Nall can understand his words. Attempting to speak slowly (failing, mostly) he explains: "I was just waiting for someone... but I can wait somewhere else." The remaining two Nall end their patrol circuit near Urthmok and his watcher Nall. The Grimlahdi bartender watches curiously as the Zangali becomes encircled by the diminuitive reptiloids in their armor. Urthmok doesn't seem all that troubled by the rifle-wielding warriors. He swivels his snout to gaze at the Nall blocking Cedrict's path out of the tavern. He then looks toward LeBeau. "Urthmok hope offworlder jump good." His clawed hands grasp the front of his robe and pull it open, revealing a complicated arrangement of electronic clockworks and explosives - which detonates rather dramatically, blowing up anything within fifteen feet that can't jump out of range. LeBeau's eyes widen at the sight of the suicide bomb strapped to the Zangali's chest. He is able to push past the Nall near him and after a couple steps jumps across a table, grabbing the edge as he slides across and turning it on its side to use as a shield from the blast. Cueing off the reaction of the Nall blocking his path, Cedrict ducks down just in time as the bomb explodes. Narrowly avoiding flaming bits of furniture, he hits the ground hard, bloodied only superficially. The surviving Nall's jaw falls open in stunned amazement as it sees its three comrades vaporized in the explosion, along with the robed Zangali and the Grimladhi behind the counter. As the flash of the blast subsides and the roiling smoke billows and thins, the bomb's damage becomes further apparent. A fifteen-foot-wide crater, about three-feet-deep, now takes up the spot where the counter and its proximity had been. The remaining warrior trots toward the wreckage, hissing something in Naliese. LeBeau coughs as the smoke and smell of charred flesh begin to fill the air. Peeking his head around the smoldering table he used as cover he scans the room to see jsut how bad the damage is, and whistles quietly. Cedrict Trainor rolls on the ground, rising to his knees. Checking himself out, he brushes particles of glass off his elbows, with small trickles of blood forming. His glasses, which he had put so much attention to cleaning, are hopelessly mangled, lenses scratch and dirties. Eyes wide, he looks hecticly around the room, trying to determine exactly what has happened. The remaining Nall turns to look at the survivors as they pull themselves from the wreckage to gawk at the scene. He brings up the plasma rifle cradled in his arms and hisses something in Naliese, jerking the weapon toward the exit.
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