Bad enough that the job dried up after you landed on Denl, now some locals have mistaken you for an open bounty. You've three days before the needlecast comes through that'll keep you off the hook and you're laying low in the distal casino.
Denl, socially, is a stuffy world: long ruled by a mishmash network of feudal ladies and lords. That tenth of a percent of the population own and lease the land to the rest, who give a proportion of their crops and worked goods for the privilege. The population otherwise primarily trades and barters amongst itself, though accumulates credits through trade with offworlders.
In recent months, many of the *pays-ante* (land's folk) have railed against poor land management and the ruckus was swiftly shut down through the regal gendarmerie and their overclocked weapons. Few people have the authorities in their good books at the moment, and most people are more than happy to help you lay low.
On an canyon archipelago fifty clicks from the port town your ship's moored in, we find the Reaver's Riddle: a megacasino resort where Denl locals and offworlders gamble with coin and promises. Its mascot is a tall man, almost lizardlike in look, with small nostrils over thin lips and no sign of a nose. You can buy plushies of the mascot at every bar and most kino tables.
It's 2:000 in the morning of the first day.
OOC:
As the camera focuses on your character, what do we see? What are you doing? @Esidrix @tibbius @Roachtrout @rossum
