Evil Hobgoblin
May 24th, 2003, 07:43:36 PM
(ooc) The 'Call to Order' thread in the Storytelling Forum subtitled "Bothan Business" has lost a semi-critical member. As a result, I am going to halt that thread and go straight into what was going to be the second half of the 'Bothan Business' duo. The only assumed occurrences between the two threads is that Jibrielle Abunai has contacted senatorial candidate Fissk Kowrin and then disappeared. Zasz Grimm and T'air'un Bled, your attendance please!
(ic)
Once they have been announced, candidates for the New Republic Senate are placed under heavy guard by special security forces capable of defeating even the most trained Jedi who might enter their presence.
That is, unless the Jedi makes an appointment.
The dark of heavy night obscured everything but the fact that Hob stood beneath a tree with two hooded, brawny individuals who were obviously guards. Their size was not lost on Senator Fissk Kowrin.
"You are certain my guards will not notice my absence?" he hissed as he cautiously approached.
"Ye've naught t' worry about, lad," Hob stated calmly in brogue. "They'll be seen ye take a happy midnight stroll, an' naught else 'till our business do be complete."
Fissk nodded satisfactorily. "Your girl said you could help me win the election."
Hob's eyes glowed. "Right t' th' point, then. Aye, lad. Old Hob can help ye claim yer prize."
"And how can you do that?"
Hob turned to the man standing to his left. "Do be a helpful apprentice an' show the man a wee taste o' what we can do."
(ic)
Once they have been announced, candidates for the New Republic Senate are placed under heavy guard by special security forces capable of defeating even the most trained Jedi who might enter their presence.
That is, unless the Jedi makes an appointment.
The dark of heavy night obscured everything but the fact that Hob stood beneath a tree with two hooded, brawny individuals who were obviously guards. Their size was not lost on Senator Fissk Kowrin.
"You are certain my guards will not notice my absence?" he hissed as he cautiously approached.
"Ye've naught t' worry about, lad," Hob stated calmly in brogue. "They'll be seen ye take a happy midnight stroll, an' naught else 'till our business do be complete."
Fissk nodded satisfactorily. "Your girl said you could help me win the election."
Hob's eyes glowed. "Right t' th' point, then. Aye, lad. Old Hob can help ye claim yer prize."
"And how can you do that?"
Hob turned to the man standing to his left. "Do be a helpful apprentice an' show the man a wee taste o' what we can do."