First Reply Out Getting Ribs

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Namsk Town
Objective: Visit the marketplace
Tag: OPEN
​

In the heart of Namsk, a large town nestled a few hours' travel from the Westgard homestead, a grand winter marketplace had come alive. Strings of warm lights crisscrossed the square, illuminating festive stalls packed tightly together. Chocolatiers hawked rich confections, vendors sold sugared sweets wrapped in bright paper, and butchers proudly displayed their cuts, all eager to turn the holiday bustle into a tidy profit.

As always, the people of the region were drawn to the market like moths to flame. Among them was Silas, who never missed the chance to lose himself in the atmosphere, sample a few treats, and remind himself why he loved this place so dearly.

Wrapped in a thick, weather worn coat, he made his way through the brightly lit aisles, his breath fogging faintly in the cold air. His eyes wandered from stall to stall, taking in the colors, the laughter, and the familiar scents of spice and smoke. Every so often he stopped to exchange words with a local, offering warm holiday wishes or a respectful nod to those he recognized but didn't wish to interrupt.

These were his people, friends he had known since childhood, long before the wider galaxy had claimed him. Even after becoming a Jedi, they saw him not as something distant or untouchable, but as one of their own. In their eyes, he was both protector and representative, a man who carried Azbrian's name beyond its borders. Few ever made it far from this world, and fewer still returned as he had. Silas was one of the exceptions, and the town remembered.

Unfortunately, nostalgia alone wasn't the reason he'd braved the cold and crowds today. Later that evening, he was planning a large cook up, not just for himself, but for friends he hadn't seen in far too long. The vegetables were already accounted for, pulled fresh from his own garden, and the steaks had been carefully stored months in advance.

What he lacked were ribs. Proper ribs. And the only way to get them was through one of the planet's butchers.

Thankfully, for this single festive day, several of the best had gathered here in Namsk, their stalls lining the square like a promise. Silas adjusted his coat and headed deeper into the market, intent on finding the perfect cut before the day took them away.

 

[Vanlin Aric Siasides]

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[Vanlin Aric Siasides]

TAG: Silas Westgard

The town of Asbrian was one that he had visited twice before. Both had been on assignment and he did not take the time to look through the populace and really take in the culture, but the Shadow Master promised himself he would be back one day.

This was that day.

The Force had brought him here, pulling him to find a youngling who had the potential to be a meaningful Jedi in the future. This sort of trip was not something that Aric enjoyed, felt it was better served by others, but the galaxy was so fractured the Jedi were indeed at their lowest in his memory. The youngling's presence was faint, but Aric could sense it. He knew the child's potential was worth the effort, even if the journey was arduous. The Shadow Master resolved to guide this young one, hoping to restore balance to the galaxy, one step at a time. If not him, someone at the Temple of the Elements.

[Promise me you won’t scare the kid.] Jenara Starborn, his colleague and fellow overseer of the Temple was her ever present annoyance over comms.

[You want to do this? You catch a cold when opening a refrigerator.] She was worried because he RARELY wore tunics or robes, he was in “civvies” and a Nerf Leather jacket. If anything, he looked like a street tough. That was of course dispelled once he saw a stray Lizard Monkey who looked to be starving. So the Nerf Burger he brought went to the poor thing.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Namsk Town
Objective: Visit the marketplace
Tag: Vanlin Aric Siasides
​

It didn't take Silas long to find the butcher's stall he was looking for, one he recognized almost immediately. The family who ran it owned a proper storefront a few hours away in another town, a business passed down through generations for hundreds of years. He'd visited them before, back when circumstances had been different, and they had never once disappointed him. Their cuts were always fresh, their prices fair, and their reputation well earned.

He was just about to inspect the ribs laid out on the counter when something else caught his attention.

A pub stall.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. With a quiet sigh, he conceded that one mug wouldn't hurt. Just one. Turning on his heel, he made his way over to the bar and leaned against the counter.

"One beer, please," he said, then added after a moment, "Surprise me."

The barman nodded without comment and turned to prepare the drink. Silas rubbed his hands together to chase away the cold, his gaze drifting over the crowd flowing past the stall. Laughter, conversation, shared glances, people moved shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in warmth despite the chill in the air. They were happy. As they deserved to be. Most of them were with loved ones, or at least had somewhere to belong.

The thought lingered longer than he liked.

Before he could sink too deeply into his own loneliness, a sudden sensation rippled through him. Strong. Centered. The Force stirred, brushing against his awareness like a calm tide. It wasn't sharp or aggressive, nothing like the presence of a Sith. If anything, it carried no malice at all.

It was rare to feel something like that here, in a random town on Azbrian. Jedi had little reason to pass through this place, and even less reason to linger. Silas subtly straightened, his senses reaching outward as the presence drew closer through the crowd. A light poke against his arm pulled him back to the moment. The barman had returned, sliding a mug toward him. Silas gave a nod of thanks and took it, turning away from the counter as he raised the drink to his lips.

His eyes scanned the crowd again, more deliberately this time, searching for the source of what he felt. At first, nothing seemed out of place. Just traders, travelers, locals enjoying the market.

Then he saw him.

A tough-looking, bald man pushing through the crowd, broad shouldered and purposeful, wearing a heavy bantha hide jacket that looked like it had seen more than a few hard years. There was something about the way he moved, grounded, confident, alert, that set him apart.

Silas took another slow sip of his drink, his icy blue eyes staring right him with no intent to hide his curiosity.

 

[Vanlin Aric Siasides]

TAG: Silas Westgard

Funny what hair clippers, his old Bantha hide duster, and a fist full of credits could bring. Aric was not here for a fight, but he was also not here to waste time either. He felt a presence out here, and was not going to sit here and place “Nexu and Lizard Monkey”. He had a kid to find, and he was not going to be diverted by some Force User with delusions of grandeur.


“If they’re out in the open, they have something to hide” - his former Master.

So, he had hired a “double” to simply walk around. He did not mask his presence in the Force, but Aric remained in the Shadows, close enough to be able to mix up the two of them.

Where are you? He did not sense the youngling he was looking for, not yet. Aric sensed someone looking for “him”... not far away.