RPlog:Ephant Mon and Malif

Chalmun's Cantina -- MOS EISLEY -- Tatooine

Blaring jizz music, hazy smoke, and a threatening smell assault the senses. Combined with the relative dimness, this makes Chalmun's cantina a difficult adjustment coming from the oppressive suns found out-of-doors. A full bar dominates most of the room, that half-arc offering the bartender some degree of protection from the rowdy occupants of the cantina. Deep alcoves have been carved out of the edges of the room, circular booths filled with table, chairs and small lamps which cast a dim light. Two steps and a droid detector must be navigated at the entrance, which stands opposite a low-slung bandstand. Cheap tables and an extremely heterogeneous group of rough alien beings fill the rest of the room.

Obvious exits:  Out leads to Main Street South -- MOS EISLEY -- Tatooine.

Chalmun's Cantina. Often called a 'wretched hive of scum and villany' by those who don't fit in either of those categories; and rightly so. Today is like any other day on Tatooine. Outside the cantina, blistering heat plagues those who dare to go out under the twin suns. Inside, 'hot' is a terrible understatement, as the room can only be considered slightly more comfortable than outside.

However there is one difference in the cantina. Where most beings are crowded together drinking and talking in various languages throughout the room, there is an air of quiet concern. The corner farthest from the entrance has been cleared entirely of the usual clientel. In their place are a motley crew of various beings, each looking like the mercenaries they are. In the center of their group, seated alone at a table is a being that was once as familiar on Tatooine as the very sand itself. Ephant Mon, former right hand man of Jabba the Hutt, reclines in a large cushion, quietly sipping from a large bowl as he surveys the crowd.

A flash from the entry way that glares the area near the droid detector, in the wash of light a tabard wearing figure appears. The hem of the tabard snaps and flows around the ankles of the being. Jet colored hands rise to the hood and slide it back from his features, a measured pace carries him down the steps to the floor proper. Malif Tal-Tahn has often been to this world, indeed he hid out here once. Under the guise of Bey a desert scavenger, those were hard days and to look at the well dressed near human you wouldnt think he had worked a dangerous day in his life. Save that those wise to the ways of arms, may not that his weapons are chosen for precision and not power. Regardless though Chalmun's was a place with a reputation to be respected and observed with caution. Those he was seeking were here clearly and now he had to consider the approach, a drink would buy him the few moments he would need and thus he attends the bar.

Ever watchful, Ephant Mon's mercenaries turn to regard the newcomer as he enters the cantina. Likewise, Mon himself examines the being with great interest. He had that sort of air about him, that aura of an adventure-seeker. Perhaps this one had heard the rumors and had come to investigate. The Chevin's solid black eyes linger on Malif for a few moments as the massive being dips his trunk into his bowl for another drink while he waits.

The drink is ordered and Malif was often want to take the direct approach and so it goes, coin is dropped and the drink tossed back. he flips the panels on the sides back so as to reveal his weapons and thus keeps his hands clear of them. A few seasoned aliens of the cantina watch this little display as it has no doubt been played out for years in varying degrees and intents. The black within black eyes note the merc and his movements are casual and unhurried, giving them ample time to measure him. He offers a respectful nod the alien as he drinks from his bowl and speaks once able to do so and be discreet. "You are Ephant Mon." the question is polite and level, the hands remain well clear of the weapons. "I am Malif Tal-Tahn...I have heard rumors that swirl around you and have come to confirm them."

Ephant and his mercs continue to watch Malif as the man goes through the motions of that he has no intentions of using the weapons he carries. When the man finally approaches and speaks, the large Chevin motions for his guards to remain at ease and let the man get to the table. "I am, indeed, Ephant Mon." he replies to the man's initial statement. "I thought you were here about the rumors and I am pleased to see I was right. Please, sit." he says, indicating the chair across from him.

Malif gives a polite nod and a glance to the mercenaries, a sign that he respects their post and duties. "I am a huner of those things that are hard to find." he admits with an amused tone, then settles into the seat. his hands rest on the table, fingers laced. Giving the Chevin a once over in as subtle a manner as possible. "So, these rumors have substance then...this is interesting and I am more then interested." the hands flex on the table and he regards the one time hand of a powerful Hutt, with his complete attention.

Ephant Mon nods slowly, the mouth at the end of his large trunk turning up into a smile. "I am delighted to hear that. Perhaps this is something that is right up your alley." he says in as friendly a tone of voice as he can manage. "Let us get right to the point. There is indeed substance behind the rumors. As you may or may not know, I was once very close to Jabba Desilijic Tiure; Jabba the Hutt to most of the galaxy. However we parted ways on the day of his untimely demise and I have since moved on to greater things. You see, I am enlightened, my new friend. I have given up my old ways and have devoted my life to religion. Unfortunately, I have fallen on hard times lately and am in quite a mess, financially. This is where young adventurers such as you come in."

"I don't know how familiar you are with Hutts, my friend Malif, but I know quite a bit about them. They are none too trusting, even of their closest allies. While a Hutt's palace might be filled with many treasures, it would be foolish to believe that everything the Hutt values would be kept in the one place." He pauses long enough to take another drink from his bowl before continuing. "Such is true of nearly all Hutts and such was most certainly true of Jabba. As a matter of fact, Jabba had several secret treasure vaults scattered throughout the galaxy and each were filled with all manner of valuable items and artifacts. I have searched long and hard and have managed to find several of these vaults. Unfortunately for me, I had been beaten every time and each vault I found had already been looted or destroyed."

Malif's brows furrow together as he listens. "Beaten, any idea by who?" the near human asks in a concerned tone, hunting a treasure of the infamous Jabba the Hutt was just to good a thing to turn down or ignore. " And any idea how big a stash we are talking about, the vaults might give an indication of what we are potentially looking at. " his mind is already going through resources at his disposal.

The big Chevin shakes his head at Malif's question. "Whoever got there first isn't important. I'm pretty sure that a few of the vaults were simply decoys. And several of them showed signs of hidden traps that demolished the entire vault and the surrounding area for many miles. Hutts are selfish and greedy, but they are also very smart. Never underestimate a Hutt, my friend." he grows quiet for a moment and his black eyes twinkle with amusement. "Anyway, every vault I have managed to find so far has turned out to be empty. However I have not given up my search. You see, as I said I was very close with Jabba and I have seen his records. I know there is at least one final vault. The only problem is finding out where. I no longer have the resources to continue my search myself. Nor do I have access to one particularly vital place to search. That is where you come in. I am willing to offer a very fair share of whatever treasure can be found in the vault to anyone who can locate it. I can't say exactly what will be inside, but if this is the vault that I think it is, it should be filled with Jabba's greatest and most prized treasures."

Malif grins widely and fangs flash as he does so. "Ok, im in...what is this place?" the hands tighten as the laced fingers overlap a bit more. Its not greed that shines in the near human's eyes. Its the love a challenge, the thrill of the hunt. "I was with the OOAG for a time, investigation was part of my job." he chuckles quietly.

Ephant Mon leans back and lets out a long sigh. "That is the problem. As much as I know, I have told you. I have no idea where this vault can be found. If Jabba was nothing else, he was crafty. The simple fact that he kept the location of the final vault to himself is proof enough that it was important. The location, I'm afraid, died with him that day at the Pit of Carkoon." he says, shaking his head slowly.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation behind closed eyelids, the Chevin opens his eyes and looks directly into Malif's. "But I do have some idea of how one could get started on this quest. Three places come to mind, immediately. The most promising would be the Hutt palace itself. I'm sure the past few Hutts to take up residence there have done a fair job of removing all evidence of Jabba's occupation, but perhaps there is something to be found there still. As I said, Jabba was a very clever Hutt. Another possible place to find information could be the area where Jabba and most of his men met their demise. The Pit of Carkoon itself. There could be some evidence left behind that could prove helpful. Finally, another source of information could be found in the form of a group of beings that have resided on Tatooine since before any other. The Jawas that scavenge the deserts picked apart the wreckage of Jabba's sail barge along with the other skiffs that were with him. There is a very good chance that something could be learned from them."

Malif ponders on this and then nods. "I think, with rumor mills the way they go." the near human remarks. "The Jawa's were probally all over the barge within hours, so. I think there will be a good angle to go with."

Ephant's massive head nods slowly and the smile at the end of his trunk widens. "Wonderful, wonderful. Indeed if there is anything to be found from the wreckage left behind, the Jawas surely would have found it. They very well could have been sitting on it for all of these years, not knowing what they truely had!" he exclaims, already excited at the prospect of someone taking up the quest. "If only I were younger, I would strike out myself but the years are finally beginning to catch up with me. My only hope is for someone to assist me. And here you are!" he says while grasping his bowl in his large, three-fingered hand and raising it above his head. "Here's to a fruitful journey and the promise of riches uncountable!"

Malif lowers his head in a respectful motion and then lifts it with a wide smile. "If it is to be found, I will not stop until I have found it." he assures Ephant mon. " To the hunt and to the chase." he agrees.

Ephant lowers his bowl and, dipping his trunk into it, drains the remaining liquid in one long slurp. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he trumpets a loud belch and smiles. "Excellent, excellent. Please keep me informed of your progress." he says while sliding a datacard across the table. "That is my contact information. Let me know if there is anything else I can do to help you along."

Malif accepts the card with a smooth swipe of his hand and nods with ease. "Let me get going then and if I need anything I will contact you." he looks at the mercanaries and gives them a nod and rise from the seat. "I will be in touch."

Ephant Mon makes no attempt to lift his impressive bulk from the cushioned seat but he does raise his trunk as Malif gets up. "Perfect, my friend. Perfect. I wish you a safe journey and will be looking forward to hearing from you." he says, inclining his head before adding, "May the Force be with you.". He was a relgious being now, afterall.

Sliding the hood back over his head, Malif makes his way through the crowd. slipping past those to busy to note him and nodding to those who do as make way. There was something to be sought and Malif lived for this sort of thing!