The Dragons Arms Body Art Parlor

*Recent completed work.*

Completed work

*Now available.*



Jedi Remnant

Work complete

Available:

Tom Clarke, Manager, completes a job.

*Gwen checked in and spoke with Tom, he reported receiving supplies. BUsiness had increased that past month. She headed off towards the cantina district.*

Tom Clarke, Manager, completes a job.

Tom Clarke, Manager, completes a job.

Tom Clarke, Manager

Available now.

Now available.

Now available.

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

Just completed.

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

Just completed.

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

Just completed.

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

Available

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

Available

*Drunk and winded Zor Kelborn stumbled into the Dragons Arms Body Art Parlor. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he leaned against the wall. The resent event at the Outlander Club was a unfortunate incident, one that he did not need. There were enough problems in his life without having to add new ones. He just hoped that CorSec would not take about a waitress in the underworld getting her arm crushed. And if they did, he hoped that enough inhabitants of the underworld would hate CorSec enough not to tell them anything.*

=Kelborn=
"This must be the worst day in my life. Although I do not remember much about it."

*Kelborn smiled and produced a small flask containing some sort of alcoholic liquid from inside his robe. He took a few sips before putting it back in his robe.*

=Tom Clarke, Manager=

*Notices the newcomer. Clients are welcome to watch various displays and Holovids of work in progress.*

*Kelborn suddenly woke up with a jolt. It seemed as if he had fallen over and fallen asleep only a few minutes after he entered The Dragons Arms Body Art Parlor. He shook his head and saw that the flask that was responsible for the headache he now felt was still present in his hand. He looked at it and felt great guilt over how he had reacted to his new revelation, the Songs of Vahl. He threw the flask away, shattering it agains a wall. He had fallen and fallen hard. The last few days he had stolen, cheated and killed, and without no apparent reason other than a voice in his mind telling him to do so. A fire burnt in his soul with crimson red flames.*

=Kelborn=
"This is not my path, this is not my path."

*Kelborn stumbled around the parlor until he catched his reflection in a mirror. As he stared upon his worn out face a single tear fell from his right eye and made its way down his cheek until it reached hsi mouth. The salt taste of the tear reminded him of something, something he had not felt since... since before he woke up. Yes, this was a memory from before he woke up in the tank on Polis Massa. Perhaps there was hope after all. A smile manifested itself on Kelborn's mouth.*