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After catching but a glance upon a fraction of the krayt dragon's grandiose size, the unlikely trio had realised that, for their ventures to reign successful, they'd require far more warriors. Much to the disgruntlement of the town's Marshal, the people of Mos Pelgo were volunteered for the battle - though they were yet to know of this. Upon their return to the town, the three had gathered to townsfolk within the cantina, and, before them stands Cobb; Eden and Din lingering just a few steps back. The people of the town chatter amongst themselves with anticipation, but as Cobb's voice sliced through the air, their conversing falls still.
"This here is a Mandalorian." The Marshal's words echo amongst the room's walls, befalling the ears of each citizen within the town. Nodding within the direction of whom he speaks, Cobb pauses a moment, allowing his eyes to scan slowly over the crowd. "You know what that means?"
A response dances out from the crowd. "We've heard the stories."
"Then you know how good they are at killing. Now, this one here has a problem. And so does she." Cobb's thumb juts out within the direction of Eden, who meets his gaze for a fleeting moment. "I got a suit o' salvaged armour and the Mandalorian creed says it's his to take. But I've got a problem, too. A krayt dragon has been peeling off our pack animals, and sometimes, taking our mining haul with it. It's just a matter of time before it grows tired of banthas and goes after a couple of you townsfolk, or even, so help us, the school."
A soft array of murmurs forces itself through the cracks within the atmosphere, seeping in with each slither of silence upon them. His hands firmly placed upon his hips, Cobb presses forth, his attempts to persuade the townsfolk not yet complete. "As much as I've grown fond of this armour, I'm even more fond of this town. The Mandalorian is willing to help us slay the leviathan in exchange for returning the armour to its ancestral owners."
A person from the crowd responds on the behalf of them all. "Well, that settles it."
"There's more." The bustling crowd stills, the hesitant, almost shameful words uttered by Cobb halting them within their tracks. All eyes searing into his soul, an exasperated sigh crawls from his throat; shaking his head in a less-than-pleased manner. "We can't take on the krayt alone. And... the Sand People are willing to help."
The crowd descended into a pit of uproar; all clamouring thunderously with disapproval. Spews of resentment scorch the air within the cantina, hatred igniting within the townsfolk's hearts upon the mere mention of the Tusken Raiders. Lost for words to combat the wave of emotion arising within the room, Cobb spares a fleeting glance back, begrudgingly seeking the aid of both Eden and Din. A second passes in which neither move, but, to the relief of not only Cobb, but Eden, Din steps forth. Falling still beside the Marshal, the bellowing chatter of the crowd dissipates as they turn to him; their attentions encapsulated by the metal-clad stranger.
