The tall, hooded stranger shakes off the cold as he enters the establishment, and lifts his hood off his head. At first glance he appears to be something like a monk, but it is obvious that there is no tonsure amongst his shaggy sandy-brown locks. Around his chin and round cheeks there are the beginnings of a beard, though it is notably thin and scruffy. Also, at his side... well, he couldn't be said to be armed, could he, with a useless toy like that? The only thing he had at his side was a bladeless hilt, too short to be an effective mace, but this was made of carefully-polished steel and had a single jewel set in it, not in the pommel but where the thumb would usually grip. Still, he went about fearlessly, in this place where everyone else was carrying armaments of more obviously deadly natures, like Densli's sword.
The bAARtender asks as he approaches, 'Where do you come from, stranger?'
The man leans forward, saying merely, 'the Republic.'
'That the Roman Republic or the Venetian Republic?'
'Just the Republic. Deralia, if you want to be specific - remote system.'
The bAARtender shakes her head. 'None of my business anyway. What'll you have?'
The man shakes his head in consternation. 'I'd get a Tarisian ale, but I'm afraid that market got killed when Taris got bombed to glass, and when I made a spectacularly bad investment in reviving the trade - now that poison's dearer than my life's worth, not that that's much these days.'
'Well,' said the bAARtender warily, as though the man had just been speaking a completely incomprehensible language to her, 'if it's ale you want, we have a number of brands on tap. Newcastle Brown, a couple of IPAs, Banks's, Bell's, Kulmbacher, Hofbräuhaus, Engelszell. What'll you have?'
'I... guess I'll try the Kulmbacher. How much?'
'Two shillings for a pint.'
'Ah,' said the man uncertainly. He fished at his belt, as though searching for his scrip, but then brought up his hand and waved it vaguely. 'I'm afraid I have only Republic credits, but Republic credits... will be fine.'
'What the hell are Republic credits?' asked the bAARtender warily.
This answer surprised the stranger, who knitted his brows and seemed to be concentrating on something just behind the bAARtender. 'Republic credits... will be fine.'
'If I don't know what they are,' she said, now annoyed, 'they aren't legal tender here.'
'Naff,' said the cloaked man, landing his hand on the counter, but gazing at the bAARtender with a mixture of frustration and appreciation. It was not often he found a non-Hutt so strong-minded as to be able to brush off his mind tricks.
'What's your name, anyway?'
'My name?' he asked absently. 'I've gone by quite a few of those. Hell. At this other bar I visited the Hutt in charge insisted on calling me "the Mysterious Stranger". Lass, I've been a dutiful and gallant Jedi Knight in my time, and I've been the most dreaded Dark Lord of the Sith ever to threaten this galaxy with conquest... but I don't know how long it's been since the galaxy quailed in fear or cheered in praise of the name of Revan.'
'You don't?'
'Memory problems. Amnesia.'
'Oh. Sorry.'
'Yeah.'
'I still can't get you a drink unless you pay me with more than a name.'
'Do you deal in stories?' asked Revan.
'Only if they pertain to Paradox Entertainment releases, and you look distinctly like a BioWare type to me. Sorry, establishment rules.'
'Ah, naff,' said Revan again. 'Though, come to think of it... on my quest to defeat the True Sith I did come across a rather intriguing history from your planet.'
'Oh?'
'Yes... a family called the von Danzigs. A couple of them (especially their patriarch, Mathias I) might have made worthy Jedi, all honour and duty... and one or two would definitely have made worthy Sith. Treacherous, sneaky bastards, a couple of them - cut a deal to your face, and then stick a vibro-blade in you when your back is turned.'
'I see...' said the bAARtender dubiously.
'The story starts in 1187, in a region of chilly mountainous terrain - the polity you now call "Austria", the city of Innsbruck. But it certainly doesn't end there...'