Log:Day To Day - Tatooine Dangerous

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Tuskens attack Mos Eisley

OOC Date: November 30, 2019 (Optional)
Location: Tatooine
Participants: Lozen, David Ironside, Nubri, Tara Sur, Mydas Gryph and Mydas Gryph - Hadrix Rol - GM

Moisture farmers from the west have been flooding into Eisley all morning, local 'officers' and those with guns are set about town, waiting for the worst while Dune street has drawn the attention of others with weapons... lots of weapons - and they've been pointed here because... well the most tuskens are coming this way.

Dozens of them, as if something stirred them out closer to Fork Tusken. Their banthas are gronking in the distance, clouds of sand kicked up - they are not trying to hide their numbers. It's war.

Across the western border of Mos Eisley blaster bolts of red and green are popping out in bursts, reaching out for the front lines - slug throwers respond, kicking hunks of adobe out of walls or causing injury.

Nearer to the city the sand erupts with tuskens shrieking and charging with gaderffi staffs, allowing mere moments for defenders to position themselves.

Nubri blinks, making her way up the closest roof. Right. She needs a vantage point, as she holds her sniper rifle up there, l ying down and taking aim at a skirmisher. A spot is found, and the Doctor takes aim, taking a deep breath. She might kill, but if she doesn't kill, they might kill more people yet, so she needs to kill first. Take Aim. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Hold breath. FIRE! But sadly, her aim was off and the Tusken moved, causing her shot to miss and hit a nearby wall.

Tara had been here originally for a bounty, but when the local militia tossed a bag of credits at her and yelled something about the city being under attack by Raiders... Well, credits are credits, and reputation is worth its weight in beskar. Standing near a solid looking crate in case she needs to dive for cover, the DL-30 snaps up to aim and she goes to work.

The first shot only grazes the bandolier of one of the tusken brandishing cycler rifles, taking the one behind him in the head. The lead raider has just enough time to jeer, before the charge packs in the bandolier cook off. The Mando's second shot is a solid hit to the torso too, knocking the raider back into the charging horde behind him.

David steps out of the nearest cantina, fixing a wide-brimmed hat to his head as he steps out of the shadows and into the unforgiving Tatooine heat. In his hand is a mug of beer, which he drops when he notices the cause of the noise that drew him outside. Raiders. In broad daylight, imagine the nerve. He quickly unholsters the blaster at his side, his faithful DE-10, and takes aim at the nearest grouping of Tuskens. They're wielding spears, and the fact that they're melee weapons allows Dave to dispatch two quickly and drop a third. He rushes to a conveniently placed stack of durasteel containers and takes cover behind them, peeking around to view the approaching force.

Lozen had been at the village while her better half was tending to his speeder looking for a cool, dark place to rest and maybe a bit of a snack. The commotion caused by the maurading Tusken has her abandoning her shelter and sprinting as far as her tiny legs will carry her towards the ensuing commotion. She eschews large buildings or tempting targets rather she finds a small natural rocky upcropping nearby for cover perhaps in the hops that it will be less likely to be targeted by heavy artillery. As she runs towards said cover she lifts her weapon and fires two quick shots towards a raider before skidding the last couple of meters to her chosen cover like she's making a slide for home base.
HK-51 didnt care about the safety of other organics. As his paternal unit once said, one meatbag is no different then another. But still, he had to protect his master's property from unruly tusken. He walks out, reaches into a storage unit and pulls out a pistol. He aims and fires at two tusken, shooting one in the head and the other in the knee. He continues to walk forward, gold optics glowing as it scans the fight.
The torrent of blasterfire driven into the gunners, thinning their numbers considerably as the melee troops. Sand people are blasted off their banthas or off of their feet, all to the high pitched RHOOOOOOOOOOONK! RHONK RHONK RHOOOOOOOONK! of Tuskens charging with their staffs raised, pouring between buildings and over rough walls.
The Tuskens have no order to their attacks, at the least, spattering of plasma coated shells smashing into surfaces, and defenders, all around the heads of their own as Mydas and David find themselves with sand people pouring from between alleys, attempting to pile atop them and batter them to the ground.

Nubri works on her shot again. So, Mybas, as his name is, is attacked. TIme to save a life. Breath in. Keep the rifle calm. FIRE! And... headshot. Nubri needs to smile, despite herself "And to think I just wanted to get ammo." she mutters "Looks like I have quite some work to do this evening... hopefully noone gets shot too bad."

Seeing the raiders with their gaffi sticks bearing down on and attacking Mydas and a spacer, Tara turns her blaster in their direction. Spacer has less armor, so he has priority. The one who just smacked him drops to the ground as a bolt sizzles through its throat snd spine, the followup shots whizzing over the heads of the attackers. At least hopefully this'll get them to keep their heads down... A sniper bolt shoots past her, taking one of the charging raiders directly in the head and Tara raises her free hand in salute to whoever it was. "Kandosii! Oya!"

David turns around the crate to take aim again. Or, at least, he would have if he hadn't spotted Tuskens coming out of the alleys behind his cover in mid-swing. And then there's another one that just pops up right beside him, smacking him right in the knee like a jerk, but then dropping dead himself. David takes a second to process what exactly just happened, peering at the dead Raider and then towards the shooter, to whom he gives a quick salute, sliding two fingers forward from his temple. Then it's back to focusing, there's Tuskens everywhere around.

Lozen pops up with her rifle braced against her shoulder and manages one shot before the second is sent wide as she's hit and knocked backwards to sprawl in the sand with a pained cry. Of course she holds onto her rifle, even as she grits her teeth and carefully scoots back and presses herself against her chosen cover, assessing the wound only so far as required as to see if a change in weaponry is necessary. Apparently the answer is yes as the rifle is slung with a soft pained growl and her pistol is eased from it's holser.

It is immediately after Mydas ducks into cover that Tuskens carrying gaffi sticks surge from the south and press through the street towards the area surrounding Mydas. Two of the Tuskens spot him in the alley, and the Tusken on the right swings its gaffi stick at the right side of his ribcage before he can fire off a bolt. The strike collides, and Mydas staggers backwards as he suffers from the immense pain of the violent jolt. Knowing what must come next, he sticks his M-44 into the loop of his belt rather than its holsters, and deftly draws his vibrosword.

When both Tuskens come at him with their sticks raised high, he parries their strike, then makes a wide swing of his own, but both Tuskens jump back in time. He then feints right, then left, and comes back up again with a thrust to the right-most Tusken's neck which forces the sword straight through its jugular. Without a second's pause, he rips the blade back out, sidesteps the remaining Tusken's over-head stick swing, and moves his blade and body into a spinning arc which decapitates the second Tusken.

Tuskens are well and fully at the edges of the city, gunners going for the shooting charge as the staff wielders battle their way through the alleys and streets. Madness and mayhem are the rule as blaster file, tusken rifle, and screams fill the air.

Sand people surrounding David and Mydas are shrieking their battle cries, swinging wildly, hoping to land blows or hook limbs so that they can pull them down. Among those leading the in-town assaults a massive Tusken walks, wielding a staff crafted of bone instead of metal, with many trophies hung from his belt - and among the gunnersa a similar creature has emerged with bantha fur collars hung on him and marks of importance

On Nubri's roof, a pair of tuskens have climbed, spotting her and charging, attempting to batter her and take over her place in her sniper's nest.

Nubri blinks, ready to take up the shot until she hears yelling behind her, just in time to see them charging and try to parry with her rifle. She attempts to swing back, but she misses the skirmisher at first, now red and upright on her roof

Tara hisses in pain as a round slams into her right thigh plate and fragments, a few of the bits of shrapnel making it through. "Osik! Ke nu'jurkadir sha Mando'ade, shabuir!" Returning fire, she takes out the raider who shot her with a bolt to the torso, before catching another of the sharpshooting tusken in the gut. The stream of mando'a invective continues unabated.

"Screw this." David mutters under his breath, blaster going off at hip-height as his left hand blocks a Tusken strike. He pushes the attacker off him and heads into the alley the Tusken came from. Behind him, someone swears loudly. "Mandalorians everywhere these days.." the pilot slash gunslinger thinks, recognizing the word for Mandalorian language and nothing else. Several Tuskens follow him in there, so as anyone would, David shoots and shoots, the walls shining with the red light of the bolts, haphazardly stacking dead Raiders by the alley's entrance. Nodding at his work, David turns a corner and takes a rest behind a crate in a dead-end alleyway. This'll do for now.

Lozen keeps her injured side against the stone leaving a red stain on sand and stone alike. She fires off a couple of shots, muttering under her breath before suddenly her temper seems to cut short and again she weighs a weapon change, eyeing her Force pike where it lays beside her rifle "He's going to be so upset.." and either in spite of this or because of this she once more switches weapons.

The pain in his right ribcage was lingering and pulsing, so he already knew that the Tusken had hit him with an injurous blow. However, he didn't dare to clutch the obvious wound during battle, and especially not in front of the arutise. He sucked in a hard breath and looked ahead; Tuskens armed with slugthrowers were firing blindly, so he dived back into his cover position in the alleyway so that the stray shots whizzed past him. Feeling dryness in his mouth, Mydas gulped and then clutched the hilt of his vibrosword. His heart drummed in his chest, he raised his chin, and then let out the gentlest of masculine giggles when he felt a distinct tightness in his chest.

Mydas spun out of cover and twirled his vibroblade in a showy arc as three Tusken Skirmishes charged at him. He moved towards the Tuskens, smashed his left fist over his chest and shouted 'Dinuir'aaray!!" as he raised his sword just in time to catch the first overhead swing by one of the Tuskens, and then quickly countered the attack by smashing his durasteel facemask into the Tusken's rag-obscured face. With the Tusken stunned, he brought his blade back around and impaled the raider through the heart.

While the second Tusken raised its weapon for an overhead strike, Mydas front-kicked it in the belly, retrieved his sword from the first Tusken's heart, and brought it forward into an overhead arc which nearly cleaved the second skirmisher's head in two.

Retrieving his blade again with ease, Mydas parried the third Tusken's ab-thrust with a downwards stroke, sidestepped the second thrust, and then caught the third Tusken at the bottom of his chin with an upwards swing. Although the attack was a graze, it stunned the third Tusken long enough for Mydas to swing his blade into another wide arc and drive his blade into the left side third Tusken's neck. The slice did not decapitate it, so Mydas swung again...and again...and again, hacking away and snickering into the third Tusken's head until it was cleaved off completely.

Afterwards, Mydas stared ahead at the swarm of Tusken attackers, and as though entering a daze of blood-hunger, 'lost identity' and repeatedly smashed his chest with his left hand while dragging the tip of his vibrosword along the dirt with his right.

"Dinunir'aaray!" Mydas continued to shout. "Dinuir'aaray, chaakare!"

Swarming, shrieking, stinking, screaming, bleeding. The gunners have fallen back under the fusillades of fire lancing into them - but now it is just the staff wielding throng.

Both of the commanding Tuskens have moved into the city among the thinning numbers, shrieking for challenges... or for... vengeance. Who speaks Tusken anyway?! But the fall of staffs towards those defending, or hanging on roofs, has become a tidal wave.

Nubri is up on the roof, stilll dodging and trying to parry gaderffi staffs with her rifle, until she sees an opening, firing that wrist blaster of hers, occupied with parrying the other and... it flies just milimeter's past the Tusken's stomach. So close, but he still is there to fight her, unfortunately. So, still two Tuskens to deal with

Just when it seems like Tara has a reprieve, two of the staff wielding raiders are upon her. She blocks one strike that skips off her forearm plate, but the other comes in low and slams into her left leg. Another strike sends her shooting arm wide, both shots missing, Ducking low, she sweeps the legs out of one raider so the other hopefully trips on his comrade, before sprint-hobbling her way into a savely covered alleyway. Time to reload.

David takes the time to catch his breath, leg still throbbing around the knee area where the Tusken struck him. Not to say it's a crippling wound, but more and more the pilot from Naboo has to place a hand on a wall for support. When he's about to re-enter the streets, a heavily armored person almost bowls him over. He presses against the wall, peering out to shoot some Tuskens in pursuit, then turns to the person, who turns out to be a woman. "Is it letting up any?" he asks, back to the wall, eyes towards the streets.

Lozen presses against the rock and waits for a careless or distracted skirmisher to thunder close then she springs up, channelling the pain and anger into a bestial battlecry that seems too big for the tiny Echani who utters it-not unlike that big damned battle axe she swings with quick, brutal efficiency cleaving through armor and flesh alike with the tell-tale high-pitched report of vibro-blade against armor. She spots Tara scrambling for cover and tiny fast feet carry her to assist in covering the Mando woman, droplets of blood from her own somewhat less severe injury leaving a trail in the sand. No cover for Lozen-she is now ACTIVELY looking to rack up a bodycount. If she's going to be in trouble later she will damned well make the most of it!

"Dinuir'aaray!" Mydas continues to shout, his armor now covered in the blood of Skirmishers, as three more of the remaining Tusken Skirmishers charge at him. When the right-most Skirmisher pulls back to thrust, Mydas drives his sword forward and through that Tusken's neck.

"Dinuir'aaray, dinuir'tal!" Mydas whips the sword out of the right side of the dead Skirmisher's neck, dodges an over-head swing from the central Skirmisher, and suddenly runs into his torso shoulder-first until he's tackled him to the dirt.

When the third of the Skirmishers comes at Mydas from the rear while he's pinned the second Skirmisher to the dirt, Mydas drives his vibrosword backwards and beneath his left armpit without turning around. The reverse-thrust catches the third Tusken in the abdomen, making it collapse.

With the third Tusken pinned, Mydas chuckles. "Dinuir'aaray--" Mydas says, and raises his blade over his head with both hands. "--dinuir'agol!" He brings the blade down on the third Tusken's right forearm, severing it and forcing the gaffi stick held in the Skirmisher's right hand to roll upon the dirt. As though its a trophy, Mydas scoops up the gaffi stick and secures it on his back between his armor and his backpack. He then searches around for more of the Skirmishers, seeing their ranks have thined, and dips into an alleyway for total cover.

The numbers of the Tuskens are thinning, though Nubri continues to have trouble with the pair attempting to pin Nubri down and beat her senseless, a prize for... food or whatever it is that happens to Tusken captives (it's probably bad). But the numbers are lower and the city is starting to beat them back with the poor sots on Dune Street absorbing the majority of the assault.

The Warlord and the General turn a slow circle and march further in, one pointing it's staff at the ax wielding Lozen and the other letting him go to his fight.

David is met with another surge of attacks as Tara and Mydas go out of sight - some of those sand people looking to give David more prosthetics.

Nubri winces, as a staff hits her stomach. She glares up at a Tusken, the wrist blaster firing at one of them, still not giving up on attempting to parry them. She had to tumble back due to the hit, though, and is standing on the ledge of the roof

"Sorry. The gunners, are on the run, but now their melee fighter are coming in, and they are /really/ fast." Panting, Tara ejects the spent cell, shoving it into her belt and loading a new one.

David nods at Tara. "The guys with staves have been here for a bit." he tells her. "Cover me." he adds, running and gunning to the alley on the other side of the street. He misses, but it matters none. If anything, this brings the Tuskens attention to him, rather than Tara. And so it does, a -thrown- gaffi stick striking him in the lower back, a painful hit but it doesn't topple David or break his stride apart from his dive into the alley. He rolls onto his back and points the blaster outwards, checking the powercell in the process. "Make it count, flyboy.." he tells himself through gritted teeth. Yes, out loud.

Lozen's ploy to use intimidation deter the Skirmishers from those falling back fails utterly-fortunately for the pint-sized axe-murderer she can fall back on detering by force. Nimble even with the shifting sand beneath her she, tilts back juuust out of the range of a swinging staff and in answer lops the head clear off one's shoulders and is onto the next before the body of the last has even hit the ground. She probably can't keep it up forever but for now she's doing the best that she can to cover those who're falling back to lead wounds and reload.

Mydas moves through the alleyway he covered within and shifts between buildings while holding his blood-caked vibrosword in front of him. His stealthy movements are flawless, and as he slides between the buildings, the Tuskens engaging the defenders in the street are utterly unaware of his presence. He eventually slips into an alleyway behind a large gathering of Tuskens who differ in appearance from the Skirmishers, and through observation he attempts to discern which one is the leader among then entourage...but cannot.

Mos Eisley sure seems to have a livelier street atmosphere than Nar Shaddaa. The Smuggler's Moon is all about the ambient feeling of depression and desperation - Mos Eisley has felt more like living on the wild frontier. The fact that there are angry Tusken Raiders just outside of town adds to that. Col Rennagen had a habit of exploring, and a habit of getting into trouble - these things combined to form walking into what looks like a firefight with an invading army of Sand People. The young pilot presses their back firmly against the wall of a nearby alcove, peers around, and takes a few shots at the skirmishers that hiss wide.

<"Well, can't say I didn't try!">

Tuskens duck and SHRONK when the light anti-materiel cannon that Col calls a pistol goes off, blasting a new window into the side of a house and sending Tuskens at her screaming, smashing staves into her cover point, at the ground, around her - too slow to get after the Mando doctor successfully.

Staffs, make-shift blades, and rifle butts come in, slamming down at Nubri, David, Lozen - all of the defenders working their way through the mass - but the General charges the tiny echani, shrieking battlefield chants.

Its ritualistically modified Gaderffi slamming into a wall and biting chunks out of the adobe. It shakes a fist and attempts to keep her on her back foot, shrieking at her as the staff comes down, and down, and down again.

Nubri blinks as her other attacker drops dead, Nu taking the time to get into position quickly. There! That guy seems important. Her heart is beating like wild, she is holding her breath and... fire. The shot hits the Warlord in his chest, not killing him, but certainly injuring him for now.

"Oya!" Reloaded, Tara surges out of the alleyway again. The raider closest to her and the spacer gets a snapshot to the skull, before the hunter notices that her sniper support from earlier is under pressure. A more carefully aimed shot, and the raider's leg goes out from under him, followed by a scream and a visceral crunch as he goes off the roof. Two more down, lots more to go...

Make it count he does. As he's lying in wait, and a Tusken comes around the corner, gaffe stick raised for a killing blow, David shoots him right in the chest, dropping the desert invader like a sack of tubers. Arduously, David gets to his feet with some help from the wall, ejecting the blaster's powercell without looking. Before he reloads, though, David makes sure to get out of sight once again. Good thing Mos Eisley's inhabitants just leave their junk out everywhere, right?

Lozen spots the man who seems to be in charge-fortunately it's before he joins the fray and swings on her. She drops down on one knee to duck the swing and uses the position to spring up with her vibro-axe swinging in a broad cross stroke with her weight and the axe's momentum behind it.

Mydas peers out from concealment again and watches the battle occurring eight meters away from him, finally noticing a particularly large and fierce warrior attacking an Echani woman. Deciding the officer must be an 'officer' of some kind, he rushes out with his sword held low and out to his right side, and as he approaches the Large Raider from the rear, he brings his blade up to his side and thrusts into his upper torso, just missing the large being's heart and forcing it to scream out 'KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

As the Large Raider throws out its arms in helpless recoil, Mydas wrests its massive, unique tribal gaffi stick from its right hand, spins it with his own left hand, and secures it the same way he secured the first Skirmisher's gaffi stick--as a trophy.

He withdraws his blade from the General's massive torso, takes two steps closer to its body, and drives his blade between its neck and right shoulderblade at a vertical angle, allowing the being to convulse constantly until it finally stops moving. He whips out his blade, twirls it, and utters 'Dinuir'agol--' to himself in a hushed tone, as though it is a prayer.

Col remains behind cover, even as the Raiders 'skronk!' and express their inimitable displeasure at being shot at. They lean quickly out, taking another snap shot that flies wide. There's a definite frown on their face that is so palpable it may well be felt through the visor if the chaos and din of battle weren't so thick. As though to emphasize the point, the Mandalorian pilot smacks the underside of blaster and peers critically at the sights.

Masonry explodes from the blasts from Col, sending raiders running for cover as shrapnel rains over the battlefield. Some of the Tuskens simply cut and run, others desperately try to keep up the fight that is turning vastly against them, leaving few to stand against the defenders.

With the General down under Lozen's axe and Mydas's sword, the Warlord starts forward, shrieking in rage at the fall of its subcommander, a shriek cut short by the blast from Nubri slamming it back against a wall, coughing and grunting until it sees the most horrid of insults.

The sight of a gaderffi claimed by an outsider sends it into a fury, crossing the distance at a sprint to try and bring the weight of its own massive durasteel weapon into the back of the man who dared touch a sacred weapon...

Tara is unable to suppress a wince as Mydas is absolutely clobbered by the Warlord. Time to even those odds a bit, she thinks. Drawing the Bryar from her left hip, she blazes away with both pistols. The Tusken Warlord ducks the Bryar's heavy bolt, leading him right into the two followup shots from the DL-30 that burn through his mask and skull. As the assault collapses, Tara's left standing in the middle of the street, panting for breath. "Anyone know a good medic around here? Bcause I wouldn't mind one..."

The moment Mydas turns, the shaft and foot-wide blunt end of a huge gaffi stick slams violently into his chest while the Raider Warlord wielding the stick shouts "KEEEEE!!!" in furious triumph. When the blow collides with Mydas' armor, he staggers backwards two paces, clutches his chest, and coughs a great wad of blood into his mask. Because there are no holes in the mask, the blood dribbles into an internal break in the mask, and then leaks out slowly over Mydas's armored neck and chest.

His entire world becomes hazy, and his legs arc and bow beneath his torso. Mydas staggers forward twice, coughs more blood into his mask, and even as his vision doubles, he focuses on 'both' Warlord necks.

"Dinuir'...aa.." his first swing at the Warlord's neck misses him completely, and with possibly the last bit of energy remaining within him, he presses forward and grips the Warlord's right shoulder with his left arm. He pulled the Warlord in, almost as though he were embracing him.

"Dinuir'arr...array..." he then wraps his right arm around the Warlord's right calf, and gives his tendons and strong upwards slice before staggering backwards--just as Tara's blaster bolts completely perforate him.

David slips a new power pack into his blaster, hobbling out of the alley tiredly. Swiveling behind his weapon, his eyebrows lift when there's no Tuskens left in the street but the dead ones, and he scratches the back of his head. "Awkward." he mutters, taking a knee to feel for damage on the one that got clubbed like a baby space-seal. Because it's a downward strike, not because it's hairy and adorable. "I'm fine, I'll manage." he calls out to whoever that is calling for a doctor.

Nubri is running down the stairs now, medpack in hands. And of course, she sees Tara first, running even quicker towards her "MEDIC?" she yells "HERE!" she claims, holding the pack in hand "ANYONE ELSE NEEDING A DOCTOR?" she asks, looking around scared. No. Breath in, out, ignore gore. Patient. So, she starts scanning Tara and stitching her up

The moment Mydas turns, the shaft and foot-wide blunt end of a huge gaffi stick slams violently into his chest while the Raider Warlord wielding the stick shouts "KEEEEE!!!" in furious triumph. When the blow collides with Mydas' armor, he staggers backwards two paces, clutches his chest, and coughs a great wad of blood into his mask. Because there are no holes in the mask, the blood dribbles into an internal break in the mask, and then leaks out slowly over Mydas's armored neck and chest.

His entire world becomes hazy, and his legs arc and bow beneath his torso. Mydas staggers forward twice, coughs more blood into his mask, and even as his vision doubles, he focuses on 'both' Warlord necks.

"Dinuir'...aa.." his first swing at the Warlord's neck misses him completely, and with possibly the last bit of energy remaining within him, he presses forward and grips the Warlord's right shoulder with his left arm. He pulled the Warlord in, almost as though he were embracing him.

"Dinuir'arr...array..." he then wraps his right arm around the Warlord's right calf, and gives his tendons and strong upwards slice before staggering backwards--just as Tara's blaster bolts completely perforate him.

Lozen pivots away, breathing heavily, her skin glistening in persperation and more pale than it ought to be-which is something for a race which is alabastor complexioned like the Echani. She pauses and retches right there on the battle field before straitening up and swinging exhuastedly at one of the furious skirmishers. Well, she knew she couldn't last forever with the axe but she seems reluctant to abandon it even in such dire straits. She hefts her axe, limbs trembling in either shock, exhuastion or both while sweat and blood drip off her corpse-like skin. When they turn and flee she can only blink indumb incomprehension before her knees give way leaving her slumped in the sand.

<"Ha! Hornk that, losers! Hokan'yc gotal gar! Hu'tuun!">

Col shouts a whole slew of filthy words in Mando'a at the fleeing Tusken Raiders, though they resist the urge to fire their blaster off in the air in celebration. The Bryar is regarded for a moment before it is tucked back in the holster, patted affectionately, and the young pilot takes a few steps to look at the houses that now have holes in them thanks to their 'fancy shooting.'

They stand aside from the rest of the group, tilting their helmeted as the healing begins. A few crunching steps are taken across the sand, but they realise quick there's not a whole lot they can do to help. So, instead, they start prodding at the dead Tuskens to make sure they're dead.

The death of the Warlord is the final blow. As he falls, so does the spirit of the tuskens begin their retreat in full, shrieking and honking with much fewer numbers now in the aftermath of the failed assault.

The people of Mos Eisley begin poking their heads out of huts, through holes in walls, or from behind whatever cover that they could assemble. The mix is cheering and exhaustion. Some sullen and silent in the recent terror, others elated at the success.

Bottles of ale are brought out though, and various traders begin offering out food, or pain killers, as thanks for the assistances from the people who held the line for the hive of Scum and Villainy...