OOC: Open to anyone and everyone.
IC:
Freshly back in the galaxy, Ludo had already satisfied his craving for blood when he first docked his ship. Being in the unknown regions for three years had a
very sobering effect on the sith lord, not to mention his stock of Correllian whiskey had run dry within the first year of his journey. He moved down the
familiar path to the cantina which was conveniently located about forty meters from the docking bay, the location was perfect and usually entertained all walks
of life, from smugglers, to criminals, to even (If he was lucky) a Jedi or two.
The door opened and the familiar smell of liquor and death stick smoke filled his lungs, this cantina witnessed so much havoc over the years that he was surprised it was still in one piece. Making his way to the darkest corner booth, Kressh sat down, removing the hood of his cloak. Brushing his silver shoulder length hair out of his yellow eyes, he scanned the dimly lit bar recognizing some regulars that sat in the exact same seats they had been when he first set foot in here a decade earlier. He used the dark side of the force to reach out and scan for any force sensitive in the area, but couldn't feel anything although he wasn't discouraged for many hid their force signatures as he was doing as well; it would take action for them to reveal themselves, so he would wait patiently for the opportune moment.
A droid made it's way over to the newcomer to get his drink order.
"Correllian whisky, and bring the bottle."
As the droid turned back to the bar to acquire the right bottle, meanwhile Ludo wondered if his tab was still good after all these years? He allowed a smile to cross his face momentarily, remembering that the bar tender was more afraid for his bar, then for the tab. For every time Kressh had been in this bar previously, it ended up costing the owner fifty-thousand plus credits after the fact in damages . . .
