Aya Clarke
Lady Clarke, Saint of the Crimson Eagle
It had taken so ridiculously long to find someone willing to transport Aya to this planet, and even longer to even get this far. But after hearing of another culture using weapons not unlike her own, how could Aya resist? She had grown tired of pirates and mercenaries wielding blaster rifles. It was infuriating to no end to deal with such a lack of honor in the galaxy, it only made her long more for home with each passing day. Yet she couldn't return, not without support, and not without knowing what it was she wanted in the world.
As Aya's commissioned ship entered the planet's atmosphere, she could already begin to feel the sense of unwelcome, even though her mind had been made. Even still, she couldn't deny the suspicion this wouldn't go well, at all. She stepped out of the ship, immediately seeing all eyes turn to her, and the guards moving closer. In her cleaned armor, she felt safe, safe enough anyways, but behind the helmet she still held the faintest look of concern.
This wouldn't go well. She raised a hand in an unmistakable sign of peace, but before she could speak one of the guards... with rather aggressive tones, alerted her that offworlders weren't allowed. She frowned behind the helmet, and after being berated by two of the three guards already there, she finally managed to speak. "I had thought to come and learn of another honor-bound culture's techniques, I see I was mistaken. Even so, I refuse to step foot on a craft until I have found what I came for. It would be in both our interests to make such a reality, quickly."
The three looked at one another, and drew their weapons. Instinctively, Aya stepped back, drawing her blade and holding it at the ready. Hands both on the hilt, she stared at each of the three, her sword angled slightly up and across her body, helping to shield her as she considered. She would not leave, and they refused to let her stay.
She supposed she would simply stay until someone more.. reasonable came about.
[member="Atheus"]
As Aya's commissioned ship entered the planet's atmosphere, she could already begin to feel the sense of unwelcome, even though her mind had been made. Even still, she couldn't deny the suspicion this wouldn't go well, at all. She stepped out of the ship, immediately seeing all eyes turn to her, and the guards moving closer. In her cleaned armor, she felt safe, safe enough anyways, but behind the helmet she still held the faintest look of concern.
This wouldn't go well. She raised a hand in an unmistakable sign of peace, but before she could speak one of the guards... with rather aggressive tones, alerted her that offworlders weren't allowed. She frowned behind the helmet, and after being berated by two of the three guards already there, she finally managed to speak. "I had thought to come and learn of another honor-bound culture's techniques, I see I was mistaken. Even so, I refuse to step foot on a craft until I have found what I came for. It would be in both our interests to make such a reality, quickly."
The three looked at one another, and drew their weapons. Instinctively, Aya stepped back, drawing her blade and holding it at the ready. Hands both on the hilt, she stared at each of the three, her sword angled slightly up and across her body, helping to shield her as she considered. She would not leave, and they refused to let her stay.
She supposed she would simply stay until someone more.. reasonable came about.
[member="Atheus"]