[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXXXVI

[Lady Serpentine]

Harin blinks. Several times, in fact. That bit about his legs threw him for a bit.

"What sort of information? Would the location of someone that at least half of the political and religious groups in his world are trying to kill do?"

[Lost_Deep]

...

"Oh? Perhaps you overestimate your information. Who could this man, wanted dead by half the powers of the "world," be?"

She knows who the leader of the Illuminati is. Guy's not dangerous. The High Fleshmaster is dead. Unless this is the head priest of Cthulhu or the cryogenically preserved brain of Hitler...

[Reinholdt]

Femme Fez Hat Reinholdt, who is normally pretty chipper, but today kind of grumpy, enters and orders a tequila. Bloody shapechangers think they can do whatever they want to someone else.

[BladeofOblivion]

Jakob's still wandering around, intoxicated. Even if he's already having a hangover at WATCH.

...Considering he's a B+/A- rank transmuter, I see no way this could be a disaster.

[Reinholdt]

The catgirl watches Jakob warily. The last thing she needs is drunken men hitting on her. And he seems the type to do something drunkenly, the way he's wandering around.

[BladeofOblivion]

The catgirl watches Jakob warily. The last thing she needs is drunken men hitting on her. And he seems the type to do something drunkenly, the way he's wandering around.

Thankfully for FHR, Jakob's chivalrous even when ridiculously drunk. Comes with the Paladinhood. Ironically, he'd be one of the most convenient people for her to run into while sober, since he does transmutation for a living. Which includes reversing Polymorph Effects.

Unfortunately, he's not sober. He's very drunk. Probably has something to do with downing a whole bottle of Concentrated Red Wine in one sitting with no alcohol tolerance.

At least the Oona the Implacable is sealed, though. Considering the alternative, Drunken Stupors aren't so bad!

[Reinholdt]

Well Jakob's not doing anything it seems so... Reinholdt ignores him!
Drunken stumbling probably isn't something to be worried about.

[Murkus]

As soon as the blade twists out, she gasps in pain and collapses. She crawls behind the table, and tries to see what the damage is; she can feel two of her lungs filling with blood, her secondary heart is failing, and the lining of one of her stomachs has been compromised. Crap! She has to get out soon, or she'll die. Hell, she might die even if she does get out now.

She takes out a Hegh'bat. Usually, such a knife is used as part of the ritual suicide ceremony a Klingon must undergo if he is dying. While she certainly qualifies for such a ceremony now, she wouldn't be able to perform it properly without another person to aid her. Instead, she uses it as a throwing knife, attempting to hit him in one of his eyes.

She then attempts to find another chair, presumably to try to beat him with.

While the half-klingon checks her injuries, Percival is clutching his bleeding arm and clenching his teeth in pain. The only reason he's so resistant to pain - despite being demonically durable - is the fact that he's been through far worse. Fighting in the infernal wars will do that to you.

Percy sees the knife coming and ducks, avoiding what might've been a lethal blow. He snarls like an animal, and three monsters suddenly burst from his body all at once. A horrid newborn thing of blood and muscle emerges from his stump, eyeless and toothy. A black, leathery beast with a jagged proboscis crawls from his shoulder, green eyes glowing amidst scrunched features. And a brawny little creature, with yellowed skin and sunken pits for eyes, tears itself free from his shirt.

The three of them charge, roaring and gnashing spittle in an attempt to scare the klingon off.

[Lady Serpentine]

"I said his world, not the world. Bit of a difference there. Nexus is rather larger, y'know. Now that you mention it, I believe that Khorn and Nurgle are more far ranging than that, though."

In any case, he really is wanted dead by them.

The list includes, but is not limited to:

The followers of Storis, the governments of Arandis, Lornae, and Gailros, the Devotees of K'Niir, and the Keepers of the Waiting Eye.

While all of them have fairly straightforward reasons for wanting him dead (the followers of Storis and the Devotees for a crime that literally translates as "doing the work of God", specifically his work creating new species, and the Keepers because they feel that his blood magic will wake things up that should be left sleeping, with the governments being afraid of him because he could create an army of nearly unstoppable things, then use the blood of the defenders to create more, plus the whole "reads minds and messes with people's heads" bit), Khorne and Nurgle also want him dead.

Their reasons are slightly different:

Nurgle wishes him destroyed because he purifies life, while Nurgle is a corrupter. (Right? I'm not too sure on Nurgle...). Since Rael's so good at it (and has made a point of wiping out or healing anything Nurgle has corrupted), this has drawn his ire.

Khorne doesn't really care, but his followers see him as messing with things that are the exclusive right of the Blood God to mess with.

Both of them have put absolutely massive bounties out on him, in every dimension that they have branches in.

Complicating matters further is the fact the Slaanesh likes him, since he creates new life, and thus provides new experiences.

[Lost_Deep]

The 1:1 dealer seems to think about it. She then leans forward, suggesting secrecy.

"Who is it... and where is it?"

[Lady Serpentine]

"Rael Kairos. He's in the Red Zone, living in a converted hotel just down the street from here."

[The Bushranger]

Jamie's still here! Finishing her meal. And probably petting Oddball too as she looks around curiously.

[Zefir]

"I don't really know how to help you with all that, though, sorry. I'm a love and fore goddess, not a social worker or a psychiatrist."

"Well don worrie about that I can handle that. i still have a few friends here they just be busy with marriage."

[wxdruid]

Thecla is watching the interesting developments in the fight and occasionally the other things going on in the Tavern. Definitely an interesting day.

[Lost_Deep]

The 1:1 dealer's mouth moves. It does not seem as if it is actually saying anything, and anyone trying to read her lips will just make out gibberish.

Harin, however, may hear a voice whisper to him in his ear....

"Go to the Phillip Memorial Library. Find six books that have not been printed. One is of Science fiction, one is of horror, and one is a book of a game. In the back cover of each of these books, a title of a book is written. These books are in the rare books section. In these books are parts of a map on paper of such treatment that it is almost clear. Overlay these papers to see the path. I give you but this warning: Read the books at your peril. Your actions and their consequences are your own."

She leans back, and says no more.

[Lady Serpentine]

Harin will head out the door, unless stopped. Anyone following him should go to the Inside thread.

[Mr. Moon]

The frantic elf from leaves with those interested in tow. He takes them through Inside, to Outside the city.

[LOTRfan]

While the half-klingon checks her injuries, Percival is clutching his bleeding arm and clenching his teeth in pain. The only reason he's so resistant to pain - despite being demonically durable - is the fact that he's been through far worse. Fighting in the infernal wars will do that to you.

Percy sees the knife coming and ducks, avoiding what might've been a lethal blow. He snarls like an animal, and three monsters suddenly burst from his body all at once. A horrid newborn thing of blood and muscle emerges from his stump, eyeless and toothy. A black, leathery beast with a jagged proboscis crawls from his shoulder, green eyes glowing amidst scrunched features. And a brawny little creature, with yellowed skin and sunken pits for eyes, tears itself free from his shirt.

The three of them charge, roaring and gnashing spittle in an attempt to scare the klingon off.

Yikes! The Klingon takes out her disruptor, and fires on the brawny beast with the yellow skin, with the intent on disintegrating it. If the other two keep charging, attempt to pistol whip them as soon as they are within arms-reach.

If they halt their advance, she'll start crawling towards the door, turning to shoot now and again as the pistol cools down.

[Murkus]

The creature's head is reduced to dust, while the stinking remains flop to the floor. This disentegrates, too, falling into a shadow before slithering toward Percival.

The other two halt their advance to skirt around her flanks. They don't attack, merely creep closer and dodge potshots from her pistol.

The Nazi himself merely glares at the half-klingon, not wanting to draw fire. He's had enough damage done. But if looks could kill...

[VampireRot]

A small white cat, with splotches of black in its pelt, pushes open the door to the tavern and slips into the bar. Faintly amused yellow eyes glance over everyone in the room as the feline walks purposefully toward the bar, tail held high like it owns the place. The cat easily hops up onto a bar-stool, and then takes a perch atop the bar itself. The bartender is fixed with an unyielding and hard stare, but the feline meows sweetly to him. As if he was given some psychic command, which he was, the man quickly fills a saucer with milk and sets it down in front of the cat. And then goes to fetch some salmon for it for good measure.

The feline bends down to lap up some milk, but keeps a careful eye on everyone else in the tavern. It does a good job of ignoring them at the same time, though.

[LOTRfan]

The Klingon woman takes out her communicator. She is not sure if her little trick will work on the creatures, but she has nothing else to lose.

She sets the communicator to release a screeching sound at a frequency barely capable of being heard by most humanoid ears. This specific sound at this specific frequency is capable of causing minor neurological trauma, hopefully stunning the creatures and Percival long enough to escape. She'll just have to hope her Klingon nature will allow her to regain consciousness quicker then her enemies.

[wxdruid]

The screeching noise sets Thecla's fur on end and she 'ports out of the Tavern to escape from the horrible noise.

[Reinholdt]

Catgirl Rein covers her ears at that horrible screeching. Why, oh why must today be torture the cat day?

[Lost_Deep]

In a shadowy corner, a figure sits. On the far side of the table from her, a block of wood sits. On it are the words, 1:1 deals. Make any request. She is currently gritting her teeth.

That is a horrid noise.

[Murkus]

Percival can barely hear it, so he's not really affected. He merely quirks a brow when his little beasts clamp their claws over their ears, gnashing and roaring and screeching in pain.

Thankfully, Percy won't try to give chase.

[VampireRot]

The cat lowers its ears at the painful and annoying sound and hisses in distress. That's not a good noise at all. It glares at the source of the noise, then closes its eyes as it tries its best to utterly ignore the horrid sound.

[The Bushranger]

Jamie cries out in pain, clamping her hands over her ears!

...then quickly deciding to tough it out and putting her hands over the oddish's ears instead. Friends before seld!

[Rebonack]

Suddenly someone new!

Technically someone old. Amil, or 'Jeany', was previously a simple NPC here in the Nexus. And as a matter of fact she's been here ever since Lykan and Mortia's fight waaaaaay back when. She managed to make it through all the Nexus strangeness for years without getting killed or having weirdness blarged all over her.

And then.

Just a few days ago.

She went and got turned into a jeanstealer.

Spelling intentional.

In terms of appearance? Rather akin to a genestealer, though much more human in build and features. At the moment her face and hands (both pairs!) are normal flesh-tone in color while the rest of her body is either a dark blue hide or brassy carapace. Long locks of shoulder length tendrils drape down from her head.

Amil certainly doesn't look like your average genestealer, but there's enough of a resemblance to make the connection.

As soon as she opens the door she's met with a horrific screeching sound, causing her eyes to boggle a little.

Quick as a flash she clamps one pair of hands over her aural ducts and screws her eyes shut tight. That's really awful! And not the nicest thing to encounter when entering a tavern.

[LOTRfan]

The Klingon woman, taking advantage of the chaos occurring, limps towards the door as quickly as she can. A red trail of blood followers her as she goes. More people were affected by her device than she anticipated, so she limps into a crowd of NPCs before shutting it off.

There is no shame in attacking a more powerful foe, but there is also no shame in making a strategic retreat.

She'll walk through the crowd and head for her home, where hopefully she'll still be healthy enough to undergo the necessary surgery. Hopefully 23rd century medical technology will be enough to save her. Unless she's stopped by someone on her way out, of course.

[Reinholdt]

Catgirl Fez Hat Reinholdt let's go of her ears, extremely relieved that the noise has stopped. She lets out a big sigh and tosses back the rest of her drink before ordering another one. Just going to be one of those days.

She takes a look around the place.