OOC: Hi all, I'll enter here too. Guess my true identity if you can.... :b
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Mos Eisley, Tatooine...<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->
Azakhaban the Wookiee sniffed the dry, harsh air of the typical Tatooine afternoon curiosly. A slight breeze ruffled his thick cinnamon brown fur, but it seemed that instead of offering some refreshment in the arid atmosphere, it just made it worse.
With the huge strides customary of long Wookiee legs Azak walked up to what appeared to be a dive of a Cantina.
And it was a dive. But, the best drinks, and the roughest crowd, were contained within. Azak did not concern himself with his own safety, however. Even the most heavily drunken idiot would not dare touch a full grown Wookiee, and if they did.... they'd regret it soon enough.
Azak entered the establishment and walked up to the bar, rumbling a few words in his native language, the only language he was capable of speaking. Though he could understand basic, the vocal chords of a Wookiee just were not suited to speak it.
An impossibly large mug of the local ale was thunked down in front of the Wookiee, the frothy liquid within sloshing around, some spilling onto the bartop.
Azak casually glanced around the crowded cantina scene.
Not much going on around here.
Yet...
