Maybe a few months ago the sight of Imperial Troopers entering the bar would have turned heads. But, with the war over and the Empire fallen, the denizens of Listehol barely paid them any mind. In a place such as Listehol, the Imperial presence was already weak, and with the collapse, the leadership on world dissolved quickly. The Empire’s loosening grasp was reflected in the few troops who remained behind. Cloaked in hoods, their armor dirtied, and their heads down, they blended in with the rest of the crowd.
Walking past the jukebox, the troopers realized there was no seating that could accommodate them. It was often like this, they were the leftovers, and without the support of the Empire they were like lost dogs, wandering and aimless. And, in this desperation they had traded one lord for another.
“I don’t see anyone who matches the description.” The first trooper said to his companion.
With a sigh, the second whispered back, “Be patient, the Gray Lord said they’ll be here eventually.”
It had been this way for a few days now, waiting for the emissaries of the pirate, Gerpho the Gray. They would enter the bar, scan their surroundings, but not one of the scumbags fit the description they were given. They had even taken to sitting down and waiting, but that had proven to do little.
They were nervous, would this master be better than the last? Would the Gray Lord provide the structure that they were so familiar with in the Empire, would he give them purpose once again? They were out of options, so all they had left was to wait and see. And, with each passing day they became more and more like the scum they once policed.
Great shot composition, I like the world building too.
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