Public Menagerie Flash Sale

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Location: Iridonia Spaceport, Open Hangar bay B72​

The scene at Iridonia's spaceport was a stark contrast to the harsh, rocky earth that surrounded Ninurta's makeshift shop. Ninurta's ship, a battle-worn and modified cargo freighter, sat at the center of this desolate landing space, its matte-black hull reflecting little of the bright sunlight that beat down from above through the sky window. Around the ship, a series of cages were haphazardly arranged, forming a loose perimeter that encircled the area. Each cage was draped with thick tarps of various dark hues, obscuring the creatures within from view. The tarps fluttered slightly in the breeze, occasionally revealing a glimpse of the life trapped inside—claws scraping against metal, glimpses of eyes glowing faintly in the shadows, and the soft sound of heavy breathing.

The air was thick with a cacophony of alien sounds—growls, hisses, chirps, and low, resonant rumbles—that seemed to emanate from every direction. The source of each noise was impossible to pinpoint, as the sounds mingled together into a strange, dissonant symphony. The creatures within the cages, though hidden from sight, made their presence known through these unsettling vocalizations, creating an atmosphere that was both mysterious and slightly dangerous.

Some cages were massive, easily large enough to hold creatures of considerable size, their metal bars reinforced and secured with heavy locks. These larger enclosures seemed to pulse with energy, the vibrations of whatever was inside causing the ground to tremble slightly. The tarps covering these cages were thicker and more tightly bound, as if to contain the power of the beasts within. Other cages were smaller. These smaller cages were stacked in precarious piles, their contents shifting occasionally, causing the tarps to rustle and the metal to creak.

A holo-sign hovered over the make-shift shop advertised the words, "CREATURE FLASH SALE!". Directly below the display a Protocol droid utilizing one of its speaker components shouted to gather nearby customers. "Come one, come all and stake your claim in purchasing an exotic beast of unknown rarity and variety. For the low price of 1,800 credits. You can lay claim to one of the beasts in any these of the shrouded crates behind me!"

Towering over and adjacent to the shop was a Rancor saddled with durasteel and leather hide. Mounted atop the beast, Ninurta silently observed those that gathered and making sure no one would attempt to harm his creatures or his profits...that is wish they were caught.



[[ OOC: To participate in the sale of this thread, all you got to do is show IC interest, pay the fee, choose a crate and roll a 1d20 die. If the cost is too much, then Roleplay it out and attempt to negotiate with my character. I will provide rewards after rolls are made.

If theft interests you, Roleplay it out and roll 2d20 die and try your luck. If you succeed congratz, But if you do not succeed then respect what that will be the end of business and it will be remembered. Otherwise enjoy a open thread.]]

 

[Jago Raar]

Across the spaceport, a different yet familiar transaction was taking place. A white-furred goliath hefted an unconscious Trandoshan over his shoulder, his Gigoran strength making the task appear effortless as he marched through the bustling crowd. The Iridonian authorities awaited him, their stern expressions softening with relief as the Mandalorian known as Din Yachei handed over the once-elusive bounty, ensuring it was securely handed off. The Gigoran accepted the offered reward with a curt nod. Job complete, he turned to make his leave, but stopped upon noticing a peculiar sight. The visor of his helm noticed the bright neons of a sale for exotic creatures. Needless to say, his interest was piqued.

Drawing closer, Yachei noticed a familiar face astride a rancor. Ninurta Slaabur'r , his fellow Mandalorian and distant clan kin. Yachei approached, a sense of wary kinship evident in his stride as he greeted the Falleen. Mandalorian greetings always held a sense of danger, especially when their people were so seemingly fractured.

"Cousin," his vocoder rumbled, the single word carrying the weight of their shared heritage and respect. "Coincidence to see a fellow Mudhorn out so in these parts. Quite the menagerie."

He surveyed the cacophony of whines, vocalizations, and snarls. After a moment, he turned back to Ninurta, his voice thoughtful.

"The stars sometimes gets lonely, and I would be remiss of the chance to find a creature here that could fit my needs." He spoke carefully, "I need something small. Hound-sized, if you will. Easily trained, good for tracking. What'd a beast-tamer like you recommend?"

Yachei's gaze shifted back to the creatures as he awaited his kinsman's advice, his mind already considering the potential in a bond with a new companion. The Gigoran had always valued loyalty and usefulness in his allies, and he trusted Ninurta's expertise to guide him toward a compatible choice.

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Even before Jago Raar spoke, Ninurta felt the shift in the atmosphere—a blend of kinship and caution that always accompanied a meeting of Mandalorians, especially in such fractured times. From his perch atop the armored Rancor, Ninurta gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the familiar figure.

"Cousin," he echoed in his deep, measured tone, the weight of their shared heritage lingering in the word. The Rancor beneath him shifted, its leather straps creaking as if sensing the presence of another formidable warrior. Ninurta's gaze followed Yachei's, taking in the chaotic array of cages surrounding his freighter. The beasts inside continued their restless symphony, the sounds rising and falling like an unholy orchestra.

At Yachei's request, Ninurta let a low hum escape his lips, his mind already sifting through the possibilities. He dismounted from the Rancor with a fluid motion, landing lightly despite the armor he wore. He stepped toward Yachei. "Small, hound-sized, easily trained, and good for tracking," Ninurta repeated thoughtfully, his voice low and deliberate. He cast a knowing glance at the cages. "I've got just the thing."

He moved toward a smaller stack of cages, brushing aside one of the tarps with a deft hand. Beneath it, a pair of faintly glowing eyes stared back, accompanied by a low growl that vibrated through the metal bars. The creature inside was sleek and muscular, its fur a mottled mix of dark greys and greens that would blend seamlessly into most environments. Its head bore sharp, pointed ears, and its nose twitched as it caught the scent of the two Mandalorians.

"This," Ninurta said, "is a Myrkran Shadowhound. Intelligent, highly adaptable, and built for tracking. They're natural hunters, born in the forests of Myrkr, and unlike most beasts, they can sense the presence of their prey even through the Force. Not the easiest to train, but with the right hand, they'll form a bond that runs deep." He ran a hand across the cage, as if communicating with the beast. The hound within calmed, its growling reduced to a low rumble.

" Also known as a Vornskr."

Ninurta looked back at Yachei. "It'll take patience, but once it's bonded to you, there's no better companion for the hunt. If that's what you're after, this one'll serve you well."

He paused, letting the offer sink in. "For a kinsman, I'll lower the price—1,300 credits, and she's yours. What do you say?" Ninurta's eyes glinted behind his visor, the prospect of a good deal and the chance to strengthen ties between kin as valuable as the credits exchanged.

 

[Dasheeba Kurjiic Trenika]

Dasheeba slithered through the sandy market of the Iridonian spaceport. She had watched with mild interest as crates of various sizes had been unloaded. Tarps flapped in the wind, stirring her interest just enough to make her slide in a long circle toward the back of the collection.

Her eyes became small slits as she carefully watched the master of these creatures - a Falleen with wild hair - sit atop an armored rancor. The man was looking this way and that carefully, ensuring no one stole from him. A wise business decision, of course. And to be caught between the jaws of that rancor would be a terrible thing. The monstrosity looked docile now, but…perhaps one command from the Falleen….

She turned her head to look down at a small crate stacked on top of a larger one. There were chirps coming from this one. Her interest was piqued, so she lifted the tarp, keeping one eye on the beast-master, seeing that he had dismounted the rancor and was now engaged in conversation with a Gigoran.

She recognized the small creature she was looking down at; tufts of red and orange fur, droopy ears that were hanging flaccid past its yellow eyes, and tiny claws grasping the bars of its cage in a strangely humanoid type of way.

A Kowakian monkey lizard.

Mama Sheeba looked down at the monkey creature, turning her head this way and that to check it for any signs of illness. The monkey-lizard copied her movements, ears flapping as it turned its head and opened its beak, giving her a wide-eyed stare as sunlight hit underneath the tarp.

She was careful not to rustle the tarp. Perhaps it would alert the proprietor.

Her eyes narrowed as she considered trying to pick the lock and steal this monkey-lizard. 1,800 credits seemed a steep price for something so small and skinny. Her credits were still on the up-and-up…But she could really use some entertainment around The Oasis.

“Hmmm….” she rumbled to herself, considering…

The monkey-lizard suddenly copied her sound. “Hmmmmmm…” he hummed, standing up on two legs and gripping the bars with both hands.

Mama Sheeba chuckled quietly to herself. “Oh ho ho ho…”

She considered it again, but then shook her head. Stealing such a small thing was beneath an underboss of her stature. The price was high, but she would not steal. She could bargain with the best of ‘em.

She waited patiently by the small cages toward the back, her tail thumping in the sand as she watched the monkey-lizard and waited for the beast-master to finish his business.