Bork

The Night Shift - Supernatural Horror Gas Station Simulator

Well, then. Since it looks like this idea has accrued some sizable interest, I am straight at work on making an OOC for this outlandish idea. It will most likely be available a few days from now, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

Bork Lazer's Storage Bunker

_{Minimum Wage, Maximum Weird}

---

GAS WAY EXPRESS CO

The Right Way, The Gas Way

DAILY EMPLOYEE MEMO

SUBJECT: WELCOME TO NEW EMPLOYEES

Welcome, new employee, to your first and last day on the job at Gas-Way Express. You've passed the reviews, you've passed the interviews, you've passed the exorcism and now you're ready to become an official member of the Gas-Way Express family, an multinational extra-dimensional enterprise! Here at the Nowhere Branch of Gas-Way Express, we distinguish ourselves from our competitors by being adaptable, innovative and focused on what we call a customer-first philosophy!

Throughout your journey, we'll help you to develop numerous life and death skills that'll help you forge new career paths and discover ones you didn't even know existed! By working together, you can ensure that your Gas-Way experience will be an unforgettable and traumatizing one!

Before we let you begin your first new exciting day, we just want to let you know that as part of the Gas-Way Express Co, your well-being and health are of the utmost priority to us other than the customers. If you experience any problems or have any complaints, simply contact us through our Employee Complaint Network! Otherwise, we look forward to working with you!

Sincerely,

The Management

---

The Night Shift is a satirical horror and comedy role-play with supernatural elements where you play the role of a recently hired minimum wage worker for the supranational oil mogul, Gas Way Express Co. Unbeknownst to you, this gas station becomes a hub for the eldritch, the horrifying, the anomalous and weird during the Night. It's up and your fellow employees to you to preserve the interests of Gas Way Express by holding off the threats of the strange and silly until the next day shift. Failure to do so could result in your permanent dismissal and future barring of employment from all Gas Way related outlets.

Night Shift's system is a hybrid of a sandbox/narrative RP whereby players are free to explore the surrounding environment of the gas station. Objects present within the gas station can be interacted with and used within the narrative of the RP. Failure to respond to or solve events during your shift will result in permanent consequences that will dramatically shift the nature of your next night shift.

Players will be given roles, each of which have their own responsibilities and chores to fulfill around the station. In addition, each of these roles also has one special "Benefit" that they can use to allow them the upper edge against the possible dangers that they might face during their Night Shift. In order to use a benefit, you must type out your action in colored text in order to trigger it. Note that you can only use a benefit once per shift.

---

Employee Manual of Conduct and Procedure

1)Standards of Posting

All Gas-Way employees who join the RP must make posts whose content and structure fall within the guidelines as discussed below.

- All posts must be formatted in third person tense.
- All posts must be a minimum of three paragraphs or longer.
- All posts must not contain content or material that violate RPGO standards. Sexually risque interactions must be done in private messages with consenting users.
- There is no strictly mandated posting order, but employees are forbidden from making multiple posts in a row without the consent of the manager.

2)Standards of Employee Interaction

During your stay at the Night Shift, we will inevitably attract different employees of different dispositions. All discussions that occur within the OOC or outside of the IC must adhere to the following rules.

- Treat all employees with respect and dignity.
- Don't be an asshole.
- If you have any concerns about or have any problems with other employees, please contact me privately and see if we can come to a solution.
- Don't be an asshole.
- There is a difference between a fruitful discussion and a long drawn out argument. Arguments will stop being arguments when the manager says so.
- Don't be an asshole.

3)Activity Standards

We, at Gas Way Express, understand that not every employee's schedule is the same. We appreciate and celebrate the diverse lives of our employees as much as we do their diverse backgrounds. However, we also expect employees to maintain a work life balance. Therefore, negotiations with your manager on acceptable work hours and your shift times must follow standards as listed below.

- Employees are expected to post at least weekly or bi-weekly. Being able to post frequently is encouraged.
- If an employee must take a break from posting or is unable to post, they must communicate to the manager beforehand in a timely manner. Failure to do so will result in possible dismissal.

4)Employee Expectations

We, at Gas Way Express, expect the highest standards of behavior and work from our employees, just as our dear customers would. Therefore, each employee is expected to observe these following rules.

- Participation and discussion of the narrative is heavily encouraged.
- Private collaborations with other employees are encouraged.
- The RP is a mystery as well as a horror RP. The onus is on the players to respond to and interact with the environment set out by the manager.

5)Other Rules

- A discord channel, at this point of time, is not currently under consideration. All OOC discussion will occur in thread.
- If an employee has any other inquiries that remain unresolved after consulting this manual, please contact your manager for further assistance.

Gas Station Layout

1. The Store

The shelved cornucopia of chronic health conditions, western obesity and one-dollar knick knacks. The fridges to the left of the counter store your regular poisons and carbonated corn syrup goodies. Glass windows provide a scenic view of the outside pumps and the surrounding desert. Coffee machines, microwaves and a malfunctioning slush dispenser are available on the store counter for usage.

2. The Pumps

A series of old and weathered fuel pumps shadowed over by an old and weathered pavilion, protecting the heart of the station from the harsh adversities of Nowhere. The keypads on the pumps are inscribed with hieroglyphic symbols and arcane languages from another era, Management's attempt at integrating credit card terminals into the station's pumps. A soda machine on the outside of the store awaits those seeking to parch their thirst, although, it is often filled with strange foreign beverages.....

3. The Parking Lot

Located on the outskirts of the station, north of the Pumps. The station sign directs lonely travelers to this strip of concrete. A menagerie of vehicles remain eternally abandoned here, ranging from dusty to old and decrepit. Some cars look as if they'd been left here for centuries.....

4. The Dumpsters

The rot that pervades here is choking, accompanied by an orchestra of buzzing flies. The scent here is a mixture of decay and festering waste that burns your throat. Some of the garbage bags jostle and move, something lurking underneath the pile....

5. The Expanse

A land of disparity and harsh extremes, burning in the day, freezing in the night. Saguaros dot the landscape like silent guardians. You wouldn't want to walk out here alone and get lost.

6. The Highway

If the pumps are the heart, the highway is the blood that fuels the station. The I-205 runs through Nosuch County and into the middle of Nowhere, both literally and figuratively.

7. The Behind

As far as official policy goes, anything can happen behind gas station premises. Eclectic graffiti and tags covers the walls, the ground is littered with refuse and detritus and you can often find a person or two leaning back against the wall. Who knows what kind of deals are brokered here?

8. The Restrooms

No one maintains it anymore. You're not even sure you can call the walls white. The mirrors are cracked, the paper towel dispensers are constantly soaked and your feet always splash in a puddle. Don't even get started on the funky odor that comes from the stalls....

9.The Stockrooms

Dry Storage. Cold Storage. Utility rooms. Junk. Management's written these areas off the books. No one really cares about what you do here. Don't mind the oddly shaped silhouettes in the Freezers or the military grade containers in Dry Storage. Whatever you do, just keep them out of sight of the customers, but never confuse it for messing with store supplies.

10.The Backdoor

A place where you and your fellow employees can rest and relax from the public eye. A cubby drawer stores all your items whilst a radio and TV serve as your only forms of entertainment. Wi-Fi password is for the assistant manager's eyes only.

The Altar

DOES NOT EXIST

The Basement

DOES NOT EXIST

Looking For Help - Positions Open!

Gas-Way Express Co is currently looking to hire people for the following positions at the Nowhere Branch based in Nosuch, Oregon.

Open Positions and Responsibilities

Assistant Manager
Minimum Qualifications: Graduate/BSc

Responsibilities

- Ensure team cohesion and cooperation.
- Assist with all clerical work.
- Ensure that establishment is secure after the end of the shift.

Benefit

You have the ability to call Management once every shift to provide advice or for assistance. Repeated attempts to call Management will result in your pay being deducted. This will result in an extended collab with the GM.

Cashier

Minimum Qualifications: Intermediate

Responsibilities

- To serve any and all clients with a friendly smile!
- Close out register
- Refill food stations
- Ensure that coffee machines are maintained.

Benefit

Due to a lack of spare change, you can request once per shift for any customer making a purchase to give you something of equal value to the item they are purchasing from the Store. This can be done in response to any GM post.

Stock Clerk

Minimum Qualifications: Intermediate

Responsibilities

- Assist with arrival of incoming shipments.
- Ensure the cleanliness of establishment.
- Restock shelves

Benefit

Management has given you sole access to the key codes of the storage lockers within the Stockrooms. Using your benefit allows you to open one of these storage lockers per shift and procure one item from within it. Attempting to open more than one storage locker from the store room will result in serious consequences from Management. Gas Way Express does not take misuse of its resources lightly. In order to determine the item, you must use a randomly rolled six digit code. You can also give this benefit to other players to use it on your behalf.

Pump Attendant

Minimum Qualifications: Intermediate

Responsibilities

- Attend to the gas pumps.
- Change gas prices on the outside signboard.
- Sweep all trash away from the fuel stop to the Highway.
- Take tank readings.

Benefit

Through the power of belief or sheer luck, you are able to fix one item per shift to pristine condition without knowing how to. Attempting to fix something without prior knowledge will most likely result in you breaking it more. This can be done in response to a GM post.

Starting Wage: $10.05/hour, $12.15/hour for Assistant Manager (Non-negotiable)

To apply, please send an electronic copy of your CV and a recent photograph taken within one to two years to: gaswayexpress_employeecare.org. All CV's must follow the guidelines as below. Candidates are free to alter the format below within certain limits.

CLOSING DATE: FRIDAY, 13th October, 2009

CV Format

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Name: (Self Explanatory)

Gender: (Self Explanatory)

Age: (Self Explanatory)

Physical Description: (A photo to accompany the literary description of your character's physical features is advised but not necessary. Obviously, without a photo, you need to put in more effort.)

Applied Position: (Self-Explanatory. You cannot make up a position for yourself. You must sign up for one of the predesignated roles in the RP)

BUCKET LIST

REASON FOR EMPLOYMENT: (Self-Explanatory. Why did your character want to apply for a job at Gas Way Express?Why here instead of any other location?)

BUDGETING: (What do you do with your paycheck? What are your first priorities when spending money?)

LIKES: (Self-Explanatory. Only a few at a time.)

DISLIKES: (Self-Explanatory.Only a few at a time.)

TRINKETS: (What items of importance do you bring with you to work? Keep in mind that you are an official employee of Gas Way Express. You can try and sneak in an 44 magnum by building some sort of crazy doomsday prepper employee......but it'll make Management mad if they find out you brought contraband that could scare customers away. Besides, you really think guns will help you in the Night Shift?)

BACKGROUND CHECK

(Your character's life up to being employed at Gas Way Express Co. Make it short, simple and keep in mind the context of this RP)

SKILLS AND QUALIFICATIONS

(Three skills at the maximum with one flaw only. I'll explain why this is if anyone wants to PM me in further detail but basically, guys, flaws don't matter as much as you think.)

(SKILL) ► (DESCRIPTION)

(FLAW) ► (DESCRIPTION)

The Night Shift - Supernatural Horror Gas Station Simulator

So, how many people would you want to have in this group? I can only imagine there's so many people working a graveyard shift

@redbaron1234

Interested for sure. Are we all part of this night shift? Like the guy above me said, in every continence store I’ve seen there’s only one or two poor bastards there.

@Starboard Watch

There are essentially 4 or 5 specific jobs that I have in mind right now which means it's going to be a fairly small group. Instead of you deciding your own jobs, I'm essentially giving players specific jobs and duties during the shift.

The Night Shift - Supernatural Horror Gas Station Simulator

<Snipped quote by Commander Lazer>

What is that strange creature standing in the shadows of pump #1?

What unholy force hath dimensionally-shifted all of the Mars bars?

@Opposition

1) A octanovore scout from the local celestial body of Segue 1.

2) Demonically cursed expiry dates.

The Night Shift - Supernatural Horror Gas Station Simulator

_{Minimum Wage, Maximum Weird}

---

GAS-WAY EXPRESS CO

The Right Way, the Gas Way

DAILY EMPLOYEE MEMO

SUBJECT: WELCOME NOTICE FROM MANAGEMENT

Welcome, new employee, to your first and last day on the job at Gas-Way Express. You've passed the reviews, you've passed the interviews, you've passed the exorcism and now you're ready to become an official member of the Gas-Way Express family, an multinational extra-dimensional enterprise! Here at the Nowhere Branch of Gas-Way Express, we distinguish ourselves from our competitors by being adaptable, innovative and focused on what we call a customer-first philosophy!

Throughout your journey, we'll help you to develop numerous life and death skills that'll help you forge new career paths and discover ones you didn't even know existed! By working together, you can ensure that your Gas-Way experience will be an unforgettable and traumatizing one!

Before we let you begin your first new exciting day, we just want to let you know that as part of the Gas-Way Express Co, your well-being and health are of the utmost priority to us other than the customers. If you experience any problems or have any complaints, simply contact us through our Employee Complaint Network! Otherwise, we look forward to working with you!

---

The question wasn't why your only choice of employment was a run down gas station in the middle of Nowhere but rather how you managed to get here in the first place. Bills to pay, student debt, loans, a lack of choice..... Whatever the case, your decisions led you here to a job that has large demands but pays little.

Situated in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon; this gas station's only companions are the endless doldrums of the desert expanse and a single, thin highway that slices through the heat. The nearest town is a little over a hundred miles away. A work bus is responsible for picking you up and drops you for your bi-weekly day and night shifts.

You notice something off, though. The station is ancient in the way temples or ruins are. You not only see its age in the weathered bricks and old moldy posters drooping off the walls but you can feel it. Something pervades this station; whether good or bad. As you enter the station, you barely have time to shake hands with your fellow employees before they brush past you in a hurry, tired, hungry looks on their faces.

You frown. They didn't look hungry or tired. They looked scared, haunted. Looking as if they'd walked out of a war-zone rather than a boring 24 hour job. They must have been guys from the last night shift.

How bad can one Night Shift be?

---

What's Night Shift about?

To put it simply, Night Shift is a roleplay where you are an ordinary schlub working as a gas station attendant out in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon. During the day, everything runs as normally as you would expect. During your night shifts, things become strange to say the least. As an employee, you must complete all your tasks and ensure the gas station remains in operational capacity whilst contending with the weird and awful from possessed soda machines to versions of yourself from an alternate reality. The possibilities are freaky and endless out in the Night.

Where's the lore?

There is no lore! There is no unifying concept of world-building in the RP nor any aspect of sanity other than the fact your character is living in a world similar to our own reality and that the gas station is a nexus for eldritch and anomalous behavior.

What's the rules?

The standards of most RPGO roleplays apply here which means no god-modding, no power-gaming etc. This will be expanded on in the OOC thread but guys, c'mon, is this really the RP to post your NSFW writing in?

Where's the character sheets?

To be posted in the OOC once I have gathered enough interest.

What if I have more questions?

Simply post them in this interest check so I can rectify them.

Anyway, I'll leave this here for now. Please let me know whether or not you are interested.

Forsaken

Seeing the glass explode in the Genasi’s hands wasn’t the kobold’s usual idea of an answer. The lizardkin appeared to shrink further and further as the venom of the Genasi’s sarcastic retorts sunk in. Lak Lok meekly raised his stubby little hands apologetically in response to the Genasi’s anger. He’d misunderstood the situation entirely. How could he have been so foolish to force his assumptions?

They weren’t fiances.

They were exes.

“ My mistake, madam.” Lak Lok coughed, scooting as best as he could away from the firey demon woman. The temperature around her was beginning to grow sweltering hot, even by the standards of lizardfolk. Returning to sip on his spring water, Lak Lok decided to keep his revelation to himself for the time being, lest he was incinerated by a fireball. Luckily, the rest of the group came to join them, sitting next to each other on the bar stand. He scooted away from the Genasi to join the rest of the company. Listening to the conversation, Lak Lok rubbed his scaly chin, mulling over the proposed plans of the ginger haired human. This web of mysteries was like trying to crack open a boiled cave crab. Clawing for those last pockets of meat, tucked away in the shell whilst contending with the hideous architecture of crustacean physiology.

The first and second plans weren’t his forte. Socialising was not one of Lak Lok’s strengths unless someone counted eviscerating amateur cooks verbally as evidence. But they did provide safety in lieu of the third plan. Venturing out in the wilderness on some gamble had its own risks in the form of getting mauled by a 9 foot tall unicorn bull.

Decisions, decisions. Yet, it was ultimately up to Garrakg. Grasping his book, Lak Lok prayed hard to himself, whispering forgotten canticles and prayers in honour of Garrakg, for an answer, a sign for which path he should follow.
Lord Garrakg, would it be right for me to beseech Mr Garrick’s bethr-

There was a shout to Lak Lok’s right as the steamed eel began writhing on the plate before exploding in a dwarven couple’s face.

Then, perhaps, going to the authorities would be best -

A strangled noise of tangled air erupted behind Lak Lok. As he turned around, he saw a minotaur writhing and gasping on the floor, choking on what appeared to be an owlbear sausage.

Then, it would be venturing out into the wilderness, my lord?

He waited for any response. None. Lak Lok then spoke up.

” I volunteer to go out into the wilderness, madam.” He then coughed. “ I agree with the human’s proposition. Dividing tasks amongst ourselves will be faster - “

A familiar reedy voice then interrupted Lak Lok in the midst of his speech. It was that filthy half-elf waiter again.

“ Y-your m-meal, sir.”

Lak Lok looked at the freshly steaming descaled hydra flank served in front of him. It was garnished with wild beets and a particularly pungent beer butter. The kobold's forked tongue flickered out, tasting the scents that arose from the beat before cutting off a portion of the hydra flank. Chewing it slowly, there was no discernible reaction on the kobold's face. The half-elf waiter then spoke up.

“ Is this meal to your satisfaction, sir?”

Grabbing the half-elf waiter’s ponytail, Lak Lok pulled him down and lowered him to observe the cut flank of hydra.

“ Medium, sir. ” The half-elf said, unsure of himself.

Again, with almost demonic strength, Lak Lok began throttling the half-elf waiter whilst shouting into his ear.

“ IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MEDIUM RARE ,YOU INCOMPETENT DUNG HERDER!”

“ I will forgive you for your insolence one time. Be certain of this. If I come to this establishment again and misinterpretation of my meal occurs again…” From out of the satchel hung around his back, Lak Lok pulled out an oversized rifle, the bore of which almost enveloped the waiter’s head. “ I will make you my next meal.”

The half-elf waiter immediately ran off. Lak Lok stuffed the rifle back into his satchel and continued talking to the group as if nothing had happened.

“ I am sorry. As much as I would like to contribute more to this discussion, I must decline at this moment. However, in order for me to function at the best of my abilities, my patron demands that I must fully enjoy, savor and digest this meal. Excuse me while I pray to Garrakg for our safety throughout our quest.”

Lak Lok then returned to his meal, fully focused on devouring and consuming his lunch in honour of his god, with teeth crunching gusto, not paying much mind to the discussions of the group.

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 - Cyberpunk Political Intrigue Roleplay

The drive was chaotic, dizzying and headache inducing, a maze of abandoned infrastructure projects and syncrete rivers. Urban planning was the absolute last priority into the Twin City Sprawl as structures melded into each other haphazardly and a criss cross of empty overpasses jutted out like the branches of an overgrown bonsai.

Keah wouldn’t have it any other way. The serenity of disorder, of imperfection. However, he had to restrain himself from shifting the gear stick or pressing down on the accelerator further this time. He looked up at his rear view mirror. The Pirate Queen herself longued in the backseat of his vehicle along with a few guards wielding bulky gats in shoulder and hip holsters. The route to her destination could have been shortened by at least ten minutes had they given him a chance to use some shortcuts. Unfortunately, he couldn’t argue with campaign

He cut left into a market district, the conga line of roadside vendors and hawkers haggling with the few Zoners that weren’t paying to the election. The sudden jerk in momentum sent a jolt of pain through his lower abdomen, knocking him off his game for a moment before he returned back to his senses.

Still hurting. Just a little bit less than before, though.

---

“ You know that your contract does not come with a life insurance package, Islander.“

A map of purple blotches covered his torso. The few cuts he sustained during the bar brawl just needed a simple kera-patch. The others needed the hands of an experienced ripper-doc. Or a former Biotechnica genetic analyst. His chest was rising and falling oddly like a punctured balloon. The bitter taste of iron flooded his tongue, Keah half-gagging half-coughing as the Iron Itamae reached into one of his cuts and twisted.

“ Cut my pay. Then - “ Keah hissed as his skin was sewn back together like a patchwork doll “ Then, we can talk more about my contract.”

---

He’d remembered when he’d first arrived on the outskirts of the Reclaim Zone, entering through the ruins of the Greater Corporate Zone. Driving through the husks and decaying wrecks of defunct and bankrupt corporations into the lair where the newest heirs roamed like lions, feasting upon the remnants of the old. How long was it going to be until they were usurped?

Like the OverDriver.

The rest of the journey from there on was smooth. There were only a few stops every now and then, just to let an auto-track skirt by or give berth to a roving band of Tinmen in their heavily armored APC. When they had finally arrived, Keah took a second glance at the coordinates and then, at the garbage dump in front of him. Was this it? Keah stopped and parked his car in front of the squat grey complex, just beside the teetering wreckage of an abandoned shipping container. He simply adjusts the rear view mirror and gives a simple nod to the Pirate Queen’s reflection.

“ We’re here.”

As he watches her saunter out of the Jury Rigg and walk into the entrance of the meeting area, Keah makes a final check on whether or not his parking is secure. Just as he crouches downwards to perform a bug inspection, he exerts too much pressure on his abdomen and the pain returns, an head-splitting agony that tears his mind in two. A needle of bubbling liquid drops out from his pocket and his hand scrambles towards it.

---

The pain subsides to a dull throbbing. The Iron Itamae sealed a loop around the last stitch, leaving Keah struggling to lean up on the gurney. The squeaky sound of taps turning and water gushing could be heard past the pounding in his head. The man responsible for saving Keah's life from a drawn out fate of internal bleeding and broken ribs resumes business as normal, dipping his hands into a bucket of water and taking out writhing scaled quicksilver.

"Thanks," Keah grunted out, reaching for his bomber jacket that hung on top of a stool. The Iron Itamae doesn't reply. He zips up the jacket and begins to walk towards the exit, wincing with every moment. Just as his hand reaches towards the door, the imperial voice of the Iron Itamae rings out in a calm monotone.

“ The Zone is not like the other parts of the States, Demon. Your tantrum at the Duat has more consequences than you realise. “The Iron Itamae tutted like a father patronising an unruly child. “If a Scrapteam were to arrive on my establishment because of your actions…..” “ Should I be expecting any more emergencies in the future?”

“ I’ll be more cautious.”

“ Caution? When are you going to stop deluding yourself, Islander?” The Iron Itamae set down the bloodied scalpel next to the sink. “ You don’t fear danger. You crave its embrace. Its warmth. You are addicted to it. You claim to be above your baser instincts but the only comfort you find yourself nowadays is when your hand grips the wheel." The chef leans his head upwards, plucking out the razor thin bones from the fish and looks at Keah, dissapointed. “ I have considered what you have told me.”

“ And?” Keah said, annoyed.

“ Corporate espionage is a time honored tradition in this era. Amalgamation having its hands dirty with the polynesians isn’t that surprising. Your personal enmity with this so called….What was his name again?”

“ The OverDriver.”

“ Ah, you street racers and your ridiculous pseudonyms.” The Itamae began slicing the bream from its nape, working around its gills. “ Your past with him is part of something greater, I assure you, but he is nothing in the face of the election. “

“ He knows where my people are.” Keah begged out. " I can't just....I have to find him."

“ So, what do you plan to do about it?” His knife came down and the Itamae began seperating the pectoral fin from the body “ You’re not a paramilitary assassin. You’re not some Matrix hacker. You are just a simple racer. No one." In a single stroke, the Iron Itamae split the fish down into two fillets, tossing the carcass into a bin. " Instead of trying to hunt him down, I suggest that you do not distance yourself from the few allies you have left. Remember it was I who gave you the contact of the fixer in the first place. It was I who contacted the Ark about the potential opportunities in the Reclaim Zone. I am one of your only allies, and in this world, allies are necessary. ”

---

The Pirate Queen wasn’t eccentric. No, eccentric was an understatement. Insane was a term used by those who were small-minded and strange was too benign a word. Chaotic was the more appropriate term. Keah trailed behind closely in her shadow, a part of her Party but distancing himself from the dogmatic who held the Pirate's doctrine as divine truth. Petrukov was situated in the center of the room, surveying the meeting place and biding her time for the other party to arrive in the negotiations. Whoever they were. Mercs? Political rivals? Slicers? Fixers? Anything was possible.

Keah slowly walked up to her side and gave a small cough to attract her attention. He briefly wondered whether to tip his hand on Amalgmation's dealings but decided against it. He would decide that after this deal had concluded.

“ Is there anything I should be worried about during this deal, maám?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Just curious. I'm being hired to know when I need to drive you away and when I don't.”

Star Wars 77 - The Daalang Campaign

Greater good, lesser evil, light side, dark side. No matter how carefully or consciously you step, you always get bantha fodder on yér boots at the end.

Name: Ortos Viell

Occupation and Affiliation: Civil Contractor / Former Bounty Hunter of the Rim Consulate

Description: The least everyone expects when they meet the famed Ortos Viell for the first time is a curmudgeonly geriatric Rodian. Ortos Viell is old, weary and beaten but not broken. Far past his prime and well into his twilight years, Ortos glum wrinkled features almost make him look like a mummified frog and the poster child for a Republic retirement center. However, his physically unassuming nature hides a stout and weathered build capable of surprising a Trandoshan.

Behind Ortos's dead eyed demeanor lies the calculating mind of a once infamous bounty hunter and a will like durasteel to see his plans through. Although he's left his days of tracking and wanton assassination behind, he still keeps an ancient Drearia 98-Prime on hand as a holdout blaster along with his old hunting helmet as a keepsake. After all, who needs them when you're a refueling station attendant? Nowadays, Ortos keeps them hidden in favor of more subtle and diplomatic ways to end conflict such as citing universal Galactic Hyperlane Laws to unruly customers, calling security and threatening to beat you until your legs stop working.

Background:

Born on one of the multiple trading posts in the Outer Rim planet of Savareen, Ortos, unlike other Rodians, was content to live a simple honorable life, away from law-breaking ventures and towards more modest legal opportunities. After the reestablishment of the New Republic and the eventual feuds over trading territories and hyperlane ownership rights, Savareen fostered as a haven for all criminal elements wanted from both the remnants of the First Order and the Resistance.

Once he hit his 16th birthday, Ortos landed a gig working in a starship salvage crew. Unfortunately, he found out soon that the salvage crew he was working for sold parts to the Crimson Dusk. When he tried to report this wrongdoing to the authorities, he found out that the Republic Lawkeepers he reported the incident to were corrupt and in bed with local criminal elements. It was at that point that Ortos accepted what life was telling him to do and became a bounty hunter.

Quickly rising up in notoriety and fame throughout the underworld, Ortos was known for his simplistic yet calculated manner of dealing with his bounties, whether it meant taking them in alive or dead. His experiences took him from the Deep Core to the far reaches of the Unknown Regions which quickly became more known by the day as more and more systems began looking outwards. Ortos's criminal career reached its peak and end when he became a member of the Rim Consulate, a bounty hunting guild. Coincidentally, it was also at this time that Ortos was considering retiring and settle down with a sileum farmer on Ryloth that he had encountered during one of his bounties. The Rim Consulate disagreed. Violently. Needless to say, Ortos went on a self-imposed retirement from the business. However, as the sileum farming business began to dry up on Ryloth, Ortos found himself and his family in desperate financial aid and decided to use the knowledge gathered up from decades of bounty hunting as a contractor of sorts, taking up jobs of all manner. It didn't matter what they were, as long as they weren't dirty and they paid well.

The mobile refueling port, Tyrtian Ambassador, has docked for maintenance repairs within the Daalang sector with a certain Ortos Viell being one of its hired attendants.

Bork Lazer's Storage Bunker

Greater good, lesser evil, light side, dark side. No matter how carefully or consciously you step, you always get bantha fodder on yér boots at the end.

Name: Ortos Viell

Occupation and Affiliation: Civil Contractor / Former Bounty Hunter of the Rim Consulate

Description: The least everyone expects when they meet the famed Ortos Viell for the first time is a curmudgeonly geriatric Rodian. Ortos Viell is old, weary and beaten but not broken. Far past his prime and well into his twilight years, Ortos glum wrinkled features almost make him look like a mummified frog and the poster child for a Republic retirement center. However, his physically unassuming nature hides a stout and weathered build capable of surprising a Trandoshan.

Behind Ortos's dead eyed demeanor lies the calculating mind of a once infamous bounty hunter and a will like durasteel to see his plans through. Although he's left his days of tracking and wanton assassination behind, he still keeps an ancient Drearia 98-Prime on hand as a holdout blaster along with his old hunting helmet as a keepsake. After all, who needs them when you're a refueling station attendant? Nowadays, Ortos keeps them hidden in favor of more subtle and diplomatic ways to end conflict such as citing universal Galactic Hyperlane Laws to unruly customers, calling security and threatening to beat you until your legs stop working.

Background:

Born on one of the multiple trading posts in the Outer Rim planet of Savareen, Ortos, unlike other Rodians, was content to live a simple honorable life, away from law-breaking ventures and towards more modest legal opportunities. After the reestablishment of the New Republic and the eventual feuds over trading territories and hyperlane ownership rights, Savareen fostered as a haven for all criminal elements wanted from both the remnants of the First Order and the Resistance.

Once he hit his 16th birthday, Ortos landed a gig working in a starship salvage crew. Unfortunately, he found out soon that the salvage crew he was working for sold parts to the Crimson Dusk. When he tried to report this wrongdoing to the authorities, he found out that the Republic Lawkeepers he reported the incident to were corrupt and in bed with local criminal elements. It was at that point that Ortos accepted what life was telling him to do and became a bounty hunter.

Quickly rising up in notoriety and fame throughout the underworld, Ortos was known for his simplistic yet calculated manner of dealing with his bounties, whether it meant taking them in alive or dead. His experiences took him from the Deep Core to the far reaches of the Unknown Regions which quickly became more known by the day as more and more systems began looking outwards. Ortos's criminal career reached its peak and end when he became a member of the Rim Consulate, a bounty hunting guild. Coincidentally, it was also at this time that Ortos was considering retiring and settle down with a sileum farmer on Ryloth that he had encountered during one of his bounties. The Rim Consulate disagreed. Violently. Needless to say, Ortos went on a self-imposed retirement from the business. However, as the sileum farming business began to dry up on Ryloth, Ortos found himself and his family in desperate financial aid and decided to use the knowledge gathered up from decades of bounty hunting as a contractor of sorts, taking up jobs of all manner. It didn't matter what they were, as long as they weren't dirty and they paid well.

The mobile refueling port, Tyrtian Ambassador, has docked for maintenance repairs within the Daalang sector with a certain Ortos Viell being one of its hired attendants.

Bork Lazer's Storage Bunker

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Pssssstttt, pipeworker. I can see you're new around here, ain't ya? Don't got the stink of an Westerner on ya.

The Underrail chews, chews, chews and chews. It never spits you out. It keeps you under its grasp and never lets you.