RPlog:Unexpected Treasure

Courtyard - University of Corellia - Coronet City

You enter the University's main courtyard. This sprawling campus ranges along the outskirts of the city to the south. Here, however, is the central nexus. A large open park is surrounded by administrative offices, the student hub, department buildings, and the various schools of thought. In  the center is a giant fountain done in a classic art style. It illustrates an ancient myth of how the Gods and Goddesses carried the worlds of Corell across the galaxies to bring them here. Water arches in patterns of comets and galaxies. Pure white stone figures carry the worlds upon their fingertips and shoulders, dancing through the stars. White stone benches circle the rim of the fountain, which is large enough to wade in. The lawns are immaculately maintained despite the high amount of traffic and students lounging or playing thereupon. The field is scattered with tall impressive trees, offering sweet shade and branches to climb upon. Students, staff, and the public alike tend to gather here, missing readily.

-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- all leads to Main Lecture Hall - University of Corellia - Coronet City. eteor Way leads to Homeport Lane - Coronet City.

Nerik has arrived.

Sinjon_Teague has arrived.

Nerik strolls in along with Sinjon. Clasped gently under his arm is a dirty old rolled up scroll of sorts. Entering the courtyard, Nerik's eyes dance about as he -examines- the students... paying close attention to the females, a sly thoughtful grin plays across his lips. "Nice place they have here... school, never knew what I was missing." As his eyes follow a tall blond haired girl, Nerik's neck twists and it almost looks as if it is going to twist right off.

Walking next to Nerik as he ogles the student bodies as they pass the pair Sinjon snorts, "A nice place but it seems many of the students lack in manners or the ability to forgive. I was here a few days back trying to find  my way around when a young woman bumped into me. I apologized but she  refused to accept it.. Ah! The impetuousness of youth.."

Leaning up against a tree, Paul Nighman stares idly at the buildings about him, his gaze glazed over slightly as if in deep and considering thought. The leaves overhead rustle in the brisk gusts that gambol through the grounds, tossing his hair this way and that. By his side are a few books at a datapad, abandoned for the moment for his introspective thoughts.

Nerik grins with a slight chuckle as he comments back to Sinjon, "Yeah...  youth...I wonder what these kids would be like if the had to handle a week   on Nar Shaddaa." His eyes continue to sweep about drinking in the affluent mix of girls, his manner appears to be that of a hunting Kyrat dragon. Nerik is what he is and makes no move to stifle his blatant scanning, and why should he as several targets return his gaze with coy smiles of their own...  yes... the impetuousness of youth.

_Does every Corellian male suffer from overproductive glands?_ thinks Sinjon to himself, _True there are many fine looking females but there is so much more to life than satisfying those urges. Ah well, maybe that is just a  species difference._ The Horansi's eyes finally find the figure he is   looking for, over near a tree with a handful of books around him. Sinjon taps Nerik on the shoulder with a pawpad and points towards Paul. "There he  is now..."

Drawing his glasses from his eyes, Paul closes his eyes with a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before returning the ancient eyepiece to a  breast pocket. His hand drifts to the grass at his side and he shifts to  make himself more comfortable as he picks up one of the older tomes at his side. He opens the book with great care, turning the pages gently as his mouth moves in silent reading of the text before him.

Nerik looks at you for a moment.

Nerik steps up before the lanky Corellian, his attention shifting from the scenery, to his business at hand. Slouching to lean on his left leg, he  draws in his lower lip, a thoughtful unconscious action. As well his right hand draws up to run through his hair, while the surroundings are splendid, they remain foreign to one accustomed to shady alleys and dang drink holes. Nerik offers up a smile as he looks to man, taking notice of all the books, at least that's what he thinks they are. He then waits for Sinjon to make introductions, all the while holding his practiced cocky half grin solid on  his mug.

Eyes blink and flicker upward at the man who stops before him, the body language making it clear that he is there to speak to Paul. Hazel eyes consider Nerik somewhat owlishly at first, then sharpen as he takes in the stance and cut of the character, recognizing the aura as easily as he would recognize an ancient Corellian artifact. Such is the duality of the man. Hazel eyes flicker again to catch the Horansi at the man's side, and cracking a wry smile, Paul murmurs, "Sinjon ... fancy meeting you here.  Again."

Nerik: Bright reddish-brown hair, only a few inches, lies scattered about. Though the wisps seem at first disheveled, there is a pattern to their chaos; untamed as the man himself. A pair of deep jade green eyes, sparkle with fierce independence, their guise shadowing experience from adventures past. A thin beard outlines the young mans face, forming up in a small triangle just below his lower lip.

Audacious and roguishly refined are his movements, yet there is a professional slickness to his dauntless ego. A resolute persona, his words carry a shady veil, feigning vested ideals.

Olive-gray pants with fatigue style pockets on the thighs run down into a pair of low cut black boots. A long sleeved plum colored waffle weave cotton thermal shirt hugs the contours of his frame. A loose black multi-pocket vest completes the outfit.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Scroll => Nerik's Sabacc Deck

Sinjon_Teague clears his throat slightly, "Good afternoon to you Paul. A  splendid day for perusing a good tome of knowledge, would you not agree? I   figured you would be mucking about on campus close to the library." He  offers his paw in greeting to the Corellian scholar. "I would like to  introduce you to a friend I had met a while back on Kichnar station. He was   the gentleman who I assisted when some Rodian bounty hunters took a dislike   to him. Nerik this is Paul, a learned compatriot I had met a while back as   well."

Nerik extends his hand towards Paul as well, straightening up slightly, though not to much, he does have to maintain his calm I've seen it all stance. He  actually does such a good act, that one might wonder if in fact this young Corellian has in fact seen a lot... The corner of his mouth perks in a grin as he drawls, "Captain Nerik, pleased to meet you Paul." His left arm shifts again, as it moves to cradle the scroll from falling out of his grasp.

Rising up casually with an easy assured grace, Paul casually dusts off his breeches to cast a sideways glance at the Horansi. The wry smirk on his lips is for the benefit of his fellow Corellian as he offers a hand to the man. "Every day's a good day to expand your mind," he replies to Sinjon before shifting his gaze to the red haired man before him. "Rodians? Bet that was  annoying," he greets evenly, the eyes reflecting the knowledge of a man who's been there, done that. "Likewise." The golden green gaze can't help but slide down to the scroll held against the man's side.

Smiling broadly at the two Corellians, "It seems that Nerik has a bit of a  puzzle on his hands. He has this scroll which is written in what I believe   to be ancient Corellian. I can translate some of it but mostly I am at a   loss. I figured you might be able to help him and sate my curiosity about   it."

Nerik feigns off any further discussion about the Rodians, opting to offer up the scroll for Paul's inspection. He explains while pointing a thumb towards the Horansi, "Sinj here said you might be able to read it... I think it's a map."

It's ironic. If Sinjon had brought Paul the document, he would read it and translate it happily. After all, Ancient Corellian is as fluent to him as  modern. But now, there is another Corellian involved ... and not one of the academic circles. This changes the procedure. Eyes flicker away from the document as if it held little enticement for him, settling steadily on  Nerik's eyes instead. There is a glint of amusement as Paul murmurs deeply, "Oh?" as he reaches across to take the scroll, opening it slowly as he scans it's contents. There is something about the smile that crosses his mouth that any smuggler worth his spice knows ... it's the smile that says, _This is gonna cost you_.

Scroll: A small cylinder of age worn paper. Perhaps once it was a clear white color, but the tale of time has turned it to a deep dirty brown. Dust has not only settled but become imbedded into it's form. A small wound rope ties in a badly frayed knot around it's midsection holding the crusty scroll rolled up.

Paul_Nighman opens the scroll.

An intricate web like design covers the main portion of the paper. Lines weave about forming a trail of sorts, leading from one small collection of symbols to another. The symbols have the distinct appearance of some ancient hieroglyphics. They are formed into what appears to be  paragraphs. Along with these are some pictures that are more recognizable, one that looks to be a ship, the other perhaps a planet, a cave under an  ocean and a box of sorts. The scripting is so old that it pre-dates the clone wars and perhaps even the old republic.

Nerik's eyes draw to slits, half in anticipation, half forming along with his bite on his lower lip. -OK Nerik, looks like you got a scholar smuggler as  opposed to a scholar, if that tattered paper is what you think it is, you're   gonna have to share.- With that thought, Nerik's face cringes as if he just inhaled the fumes of the insides of a Taun Taun. Leaning in he questions Paul, "So you can read it."

"Oh sure ... I can read it," Paul informs the man, glancing up for only a  moment, his lips curling despite himself at the combination look of interest and irritation. "Hmmmm, very interesting stuff," Paul murmurs to himself as  he looks back down at the document, forcing the smile to dissipate. "It's  written very archaically ... can't say there are too many people that could   read all of this ... least not accurately."

Nerik leans back, crossing his arms, settling in for the -deal-. Calm, he  raises one eyebrow, "Probably not... I mean I guess I could have always   taken it to a droid... But Sinj here said his friend could help." He glances from Paul to Sinjon and back again.

Touching the map with one of his pawpads Sinjon murmurs as he traces one of  the figures, "This does appear to be a star chart of some sort." He looks up  at Nerik, "I seriously doubt that you would have found a droid programmed to   translate this very common. Droids are quite advanced but they tend to make   more grammatical errors since content can be rather tricky."

If the red-haired man thinks he can bluff his way through this one, he is  sorely mistaken. "Yeah, you could try ... maybe if you could find one of the  pre-Clone War models ... that still had circuitry that worked and hadn't had   it's memory wiped ... yeah, I guess they might be able to read it for you.   Course that only gets you through the text. Won't help you none with the   tests. For that you'll need someone with experience." Glancing back up, Paul turns to glance at Sinjon, eyes glinting with the excitement of a scientist, then back to Nerik, smile curling with a clear message ... that here stood a  man of such "experience".

Nerik shifts his weight again, he definitely is in no position to bargain here at all and he knows it, but if the map is what he thinks it is, there should be plenty for all... A low defeated laugh is skillfully hidden behind a calm grin, "True... well if it says what I think it should, than I would be  willing to split it with you." It is obvious that he hated saying that, but well, without a translator, it's a worthless piece of paper. Besides who knows what other weird old things might crop up along the way.

Sinjon turns his head towards Paul with his eyebrows raised, "So it is a  treasure map of some sort?"

"Have you ever heard of the famous Corellian pirate, Darius Nul?" Paul asks the Horansi, eyes still on Nerik's face. Clearly the other man must have guessed what he was holding in his hands. Even though splitting the treasure will be a small sacrifice to make considering what is most likely at the end of this trail, Paul can still understand the considerable pain it must have caused the redhead.

The ebon Horansi's eyes widen at the mention of Nul's name, "Why yes of course  I have, hasn't everyone? Many people have searched for his treasure but all   have come up empty handed. There have been many such maps that have   supposedly pointed the way to Nul's treasure trove. Most have been   fabrications and a few probably done by Nul himself. What makes you sure   that this is not one of them?"

Nerik holds his light smile, along with his gaze on Paul, flashing away only briefly to Sinjon. His smile turns to a grimace as he sees that what he  thought was -his- secret is more well known than he thinks... Ah well, you can't do everything by yourself. As Sinjon's words sink in, Nerik's hope drops a notch, he glances to Paul for clarification, "Fabrication?" he  almost squeaks out.

"Because it's written in ancient Corellian ... and it's clearly been written  by someone who didn't know how to write it ... it's been very carefully copied." Glancing between the two beings before him, Paul elucidates further. "You  see, there was rumored to be a map that was found carved into a desk sold by   another famous Corellian, Bel Iblis. It was believed that the desk   previously belonged to none other than Darius Nul." Perusing the paper in  his hands, Paul stares at it for a moment before crouching down to his satchel. "It -looks- right ... right age, right text, clearly copied down  with painstaking attention to detail ..." From his bag he pulls a small mechanical device, a thin rod, which he carefully touches to the paper, holding it in one spot for a moment, checking a reading, and then moving it  again to check another spot.

Despite Paul's words, Nerik swallows hard as he waits. He leans in next to  Paul, and though he has no clue what the device is that Paul is using, he   knows what it will display... is it a fake? A small chuckle touches his lips as he recalls that he did get the map for basically nothing. "So?!?" he prods.

It would be so simple to lie. To examine the parchment intently, only to hand it back to Nerik with a regretful shake of the head and murmur, _I'm sorry, but it is a fake ..._ It would be so simple then to lie in wait for the parchment to pass out of the Corellian's possession and into his own. ....  The thought never even crosses Paul's mind. The Corellian pulls out his antique wire frame glasses, hazel eyes scanning over the document in minute detail as he continues to test the paper in his hands. There is a long period of time where he makes no comment to either human or Horansi, completely absorbed in the process of testing. Finally glasses are whisked away with one hand and pocketed. "Well, it's for what it's worth, it -is-  genuinely old. Whether it will genuinely lead us anywhere is an entirely   different question, but I feel strongly that it is exactly what it appears   to be."

With a broad triumphant smile Nerik leans back. He gives Sinjon a gentle nudge on the shoulder and an accomplished nod to Paul. That was almost exactly what he wanted to hear. "Then I guess we'll just have to go find out... that is,  if you are both sure you can handle it... I mean it could get dangerous." His challenge is more directed towards Paul, and while it doesn't really carry any -real- undertones, it is still a toss to see exactly what this other Corellian is made of... So Paul might be smarter, but is he bolder... Only time will tell.

"Well I am sure it will lead us somewhere but whether it is to what is  desired... that remains to be seen." Sinjon looks at Nerik as he speaks and shakes his head slightly with a chuckle, "Ah, do not mistake brashness with  wisdom Nerik. I am up to any challenge that we might encounter and I am sure   Paul is as well." He turns his grass green eyes towards the older Corellian for his confirmation.

That testing comment raises one sardonic brow from the learned Corellian who merely hands the document back and rises slowly. "I've been places most  Corellian's only have nightmares about," he returns lazily. _And I got the scars to prove it_ he muses to himself silently. Glancing between the two, he rumbles, "So what is the game plan then? Is it just us?"

With a smirk, Nerik cocks his head to regard Paul, "You'll have to tell me  about those scars sometime." It's his feeble attempt to be friendly... That said he moves onto more pressing matters. "Well... if it does lead to a  treasure... the more we bring along, the less for us." Nerik glances down to  examine the map, as if he could understand it. "So where does it say the  chest is?"

Shrugging his shoulders a bit Sinjon states, "Well I am merely along for the  adventure of going to a new place." He turns his gaze again to Paul before speaking softly so only the trio can hear, "What kind of treasure was Nul  supposed to have? I personally do not have much need for wealth but books   might perk my curiosity!" He grins at the pair of Corellians.

"I wouldn't count on too many books Sinjon, but you never know. Perhaps he was  more of a scholar than history depicted." There is an ironic gleam in Paul's  eye as he glances up toward the Horansi. "I can relate to that." Reaching back for the map, Paul opens it again and starts softly reading aloud, only bits coming out here and there. "To be like captains of old ..... a lost and  future place ...... *chuckle* ... there be dragons here .... " and after awhile Paul stops and turns the paper over to look at it in frustration. Glancing up he mutters, "There are many allusions here, very poetic and  ironic, but little hard data." The Corellian continues to frown in  annoyance, muttering almost more to himself, "Therefore the answer must lie   not in the obvious, but in the subtle and suggested ...." Slowly he  considers the parchment before he begins thoughtfully folding it in   different patterns.

Nerik wrinkles his brow thoughtfully and brings up a had to rub his chin. As if  it will help his brain reach a conclusion faster, he begins to pace slightly back and forth. "Well... he was a pirate... maybe he coded it the may the old  star charts used to be." He looks to Paul and Sinjon, "You know... how the  old republic would write out the coordinates every other number and then in   reverse. So you take the first set of numbers and then add in the second,   only the second is backwards."

"Good idea, but there are precious few numbers written here." However, Nerik's  comment does spark Paul's own intuition. Looking up to his fellow Corellian, Paul grins in delight. "Nice work though .... we'll make a good team," he  chuckles. Glancing back down, he folds the edges of the borders back and then folds them together in the center, eliminating all of the writing from sight. Amazingly enough, the delicate illustrated lines reform into a new pattern that is unbroken. Gold and silver dots that looked like adornments along the edges suddenly clarify into something quite different. Constellations.

Peering at the new design that Paul has puzzled out Sinjon whistles slightly, "Very well done Paul! I knew you would be a great help to Nerik's plans. I  only hope I will be of use as well at least spiritually." He smirks at the last of his comments.

Nerik offers a warm smile up to the Horansi, "You helped save my neck once  before, I'm sure you'll prove to be a bigger help than you think Sinj." He  then leans in closer to get a better look at the new picture Paul has formed... his eyes narrow as he examines the dots and lines. Running his fingers along the gold lines, connecting the dots in a pattern, Nerik mutters, "Star chart... looks like constellations.", speaking his thoughts aloud. He then begins to tilt his head to get a different angle on the picture. "Hrmm..." he mumbles out as he continues to examine, thoughtfully running through his brain the lists upon lists of stars and systems committed to memory.

Glancing up at the unexpected praise, Paul cannot help but unconsciously bask for a moment before catching himself and clearing his throat. Laying a hand on the Horansi's shoulder, Paul murmurs, "Thanks ... I have a feeling you're  going to contribute a great deal more than just that." Looking back to the map, Paul notes with one finger, "That's the system in question ... the  others are constellations of nearby planets. I recognize a few," he notes helpfully, "but the central one eludes me. I would guess that the links  show the planets in order of approach?" he guesses.

Nodding, Nerik continues to focus his concentration on the 'map'... "Yeah...  wait." He places his hand in the center of the fold. Then takes turns glancing on either side. As he examines both halves a smile tinges the corners of his lips. "Here look at this." he waves you both closer pointing at the left half. "See here this looks like O'Paal... and I think that is  Beta_2 and Selene... this one though." he points to the right side, "I'm not  sure, maybe it's a more detailed system map?"

That places it firmly in Paul's recollection, his mouth shifting into a thin line. "Yeah ... yeah, I recognize it now ... Athaniss. Wonderful," he  grouses, his thoughts already turning to how they can get through Imperial customs. "Nothing to declare ..." he mutters under his breath sarcastically.

Nerik chuckles lightly easing back as he looks to Paul knowing that line to  customs all to well. He then runs a hand through his hair with a sarcastic grin, "Great... I'd been missing my run-in's with Imperials." He then crosses his arms, "But the question is not so much getting to Athaniss, but  where on that bantha dung of a planet is the chest?"

"Well, that's easy ... at least in general. It's underwater. In what I now  gather is somewhere along the bottom of the north sea," Paul notes, reopening the map to point out the text and images that illustrate this point. "I'll need to study the map more to see if I can get a clearer idea  of exactly -where- in the north sea. Otherwise, looking for it could take   more than just awhile. It could take a lot of whiles," he notes wryly.

His ears perk up, Sinjon grumbles at the mention of Imperials and his expression grows serious. "Imperials are not considered to be friendly to  Jedi of any persuasion. I hope we are able to pass without much trouble." He  turns to Paul, "So we will have to dive for this treasure?"

"Seems the good captain had a thing for his seafaring ancestors ... yes, we'll  need to acquire some diving equipment ... and experience." Glancing over to  the Horansi at his side, Paul notes soberly, "I doubt they'll be able to   tell ... just keep the saber hidden. No offense, but I don't think the   Imperials will even think it's -possible- for something non-human to be   talented in any such way. They have very narrow minds."

Nerik's eyes move slightly to regard Sinjon, the mention of the word Jedi holds him in a long pause of contemplation. -So he _IS_ a Jedi than. I guess the stories are true- That along with a flood of other thought's fill Nerik's brain, but they are better left for discussion at another time...  "Dive?" he offers in a tone of uncertainly, "I guess we'll need some sort of  craft... and suits as well?"

Sinjon_Teague chuckles at Paul, "True they are very narrow minded. The  Imperials are rather interested in the Horansi home system, in that they   wish to exploit our resources. I have had some rather...unsavory contact   with Imperial personages. I will carry my saber as I should, with honor. If   they find offense to it we can deal with it as it appears." He gives a  toothily grin to Paul then to Nerik. "Who would we talk to about diving gear  and training us in its use? I cannot wait to tell my friends that *I* went   underwater diving!!" His eyes sparkle with the thought of underwater adventure.

Nerik flicks his eyes from Paul to Sinjon, "Well either of you know anyone who  dives? If not I bet we could find someone on Calimari or Caspar who knows,   they both have oceans. I have several contacts on Caspar so my vote would be   to try there."

While Sinjon is all excitement, Paul cannot help but feel a mix of emotions himself. He had once witnessed just how far the Empire would be willing to  go to take a home system ... especially if they determine that the inhabitants of said planet are, "inferior". Hazel eyes turn dark with the unpleasant memory, but Paul shakes his head, offering Sinjon a lopsided smile. "Hope you're one of those felines that actually -like- water," he  teases lightly. He then turns to consider Nerik. "That sounds best. There  are a few outfits here on Corellia, but I'm not eager to let news of this   get out -here- if you catch my meaning."

Putting on his best theatrical 'offended' look Sinjon turn to Paul, "Of course!  We Horansi _LOVE_ water and I am quite an accomplished swimmer myself. I   have been snorkeling twice but it is different than assisted diving." He  gives Paul a large wink before turning towards Nerik, "I agree! I have   several contacts on Caspar that would be glad to help us out."

With a more than knowing nod, Nerik motions to Paul, "You don't need to tell  me that." He looks to Sinjon, he too having witnessed and experienced Imperial cruelty... Kessel was a hell of a vacation... finding no words all he can offer the Horansi is a solemn nod, and unaware to Nerik, the Jedi can pick up far more of his thoughts on the issue. Feigning off those thoughts he  forces a smile, "Well nabbing untold riches out from under the Imperials   noses is my idea of fun. I guess we split and meet up on Caspar? Or you are   both welcome to come with me in my ship if you like."

Smiling brightly at the enthusiasm now, Paul confesses, "I'm rather a water  soul myself. I've even done some diving in the coral reefs off the coast   here on Corellia and Calamari." Turning back to Nerik, Paul shrugs lightly. "I'm using a borrowed ship these days ... long story ... so either works for  me. We certainly only want to bring one ship to Athaniss."

Sinjon_Teague nods at the pair, "Excellent! Then it seems we are well on our  way. We can finalize things when we gather at Caspar. I would have to travel   with either of you gentlemen since I am currently without a ship of my own."

"Then it's settled," Paul murmurs, glancing down at his chrono. "We'll work out the details of meeting up on Caspar, but I have to run to an appointment now." Raising his gaze to Nerik, Paul shakes the map lightly, querying, "I hope you don't mind if I hold onto this, Sinjon can vouch for me," he eyes gleaming with wicked delight, but the edge of truth in his words is clear. As the others agree, the older Corellian turns, offering them a wave of the hand before departing hastily.