[Nexus] The Black Dragon's Den XIII

[Cyber Punk]

[At the Bar]

Holly smiles widely. "I'm no decker, but I know my way round a computer." She says, taking a sip of her drink. "So it's safe to say I'm wiz on a PC/PDA or what have you."

[Orm-Embar]

[At the Bar]

"Excellent," Bo replies, "I was hoping you'd have the right expertise for that part of it." He looks at what's left of his drink, but his thoughts are elsewhere. Still guarding against being overheard, though it should be obvious he and Holly are talking about something serious. Around them the bar's patrons drink, gamble, talk and argue, making enough noise to keep this one conversation relatively private. Although he does glance around to see who's coming in the door, not to be caught off guard.

"As for the target... I've looked at a few. Saber & Nieces Assassins Corp. - but they're more for the bespoke trade. When you care enough to get serious and cost is no longer the issue," he explains, sounding like there is some grudging respect there. At least they're professionals, after all.

"The Chromium Star people, they have a lot of 'bots they use, supposed to be reliable except for maintenance issues. In other words, somewhat unreliable... not that some of the others are much better in that regard." Something about Bo's tone makes "unreliable" sound vaguely horrifying, the kind of bad habit that shouldn't get out in polite company.

"Unending Reach, that's a big outfit, diversified, installs equipment and does surveillance and investigation as well as strong arm stuff. Got their own building and a lot of infrastructure." An inviting target, but maybe too well defended.

"Dedication Consolidated Industries, their motto is 'We put the Dead in Dedication' - nice, huh?" Marketing! He smiles and continues.

"But the one I like the best for this job, that's an outfit that calls themselves Your Private Army. Kind of like an employment agency, only for security people, ex-military, and hopefuls. Their HQ for admin is a separate building from their operations spread, and it doesn't look like a really hardened target. They do a lot of low-level grunt work like day to day patrolling, bodyguarding too, also some training, sometimes real field operations like a corporate takeover, or helping some executive break out of their contract to make a career move. And sometimes catching slaves. Which seems to be allowed in Skyside, somehow," he with a morose look.

Then he brightens up. "Still, if the sneak part of the op goes wrong, that probably means we get to shoot our way out, so I don't see a downside," he grins, and raises his glass to Holly once more.

[Recaiden]

Scarcely has the door closed when it creaks open again, getting out of the way of an incoming patron without needing to be touched. Tahlia's hair is tucked up under a newsboy's cap, arms extending from a sleeveless white shirt into the pockets of jeans.
At the bar, she quietly asks for a cup of tea.

[Cyber Punk]

[At the Bar]

Holly grins. "You've already chosen YPR, haven't ya?" She chuckles. "Chromium Star sounded wiz, too. Unending Reach, if I had a decker with me, but that's hardly an option, right chummer?"

Then she grows serious. "So, datasteal and possibly wetwork. How're we going in? Am I gonna offer you support from behind my rifle, or am I coming with you?"

[Reinholdt]

One dejected looking Reinholdt traveling all the way from Riverside finally reaches the bar, where he slumps into a stool. He manages to order some rum before letting his head thump loudly into the countertop. This proves to be a future detriment when his drink actually arrives. Now he has to decide between keeping his head where it is, which is where he wants it, or drinking, which is what he wants. It wasn't really feasible to do both unless... nope. No crazy swirly straws readily available to that'll do that. Dang. He hates tough choices.

[Orm-Embar]

[At the Bar]

Bo laughs just a bit. "I have to agree, Chromium Star and the Reach are both good targets. Probably better information sources I'd guess. But, I ranked them lower priority because they have the better networks. Building security alarms, cameras, communication systems... but the biggest reason is their, ah, motivation. Fighting spirit. I'd expect them to be coordinated and stand up to fire - guessing, of course, I haven't seen them in real action yet." He shrugs. You just never know. Robots, at least, aren't known for backing down.

To the second part, "We should go in together, I think, and watch each others' backs," the other MERC replies. "Although you have a couple of critical roles, in the data extract and covering withdrawal. All right?"

"As for the way in, just have to breach a door and alarm. I can handle that. Maybe drop us on a roof if the ground looks too well covered. Also, what you said about misdirecting - think we should grab a couple of uniforms from one of these other outfits, first?"

[Recaiden]

A crazy bright yellow swirly straw extends up from the glass, loops around several times, and ends just in front of Reinholdt's face.

If he were up to turning his head, he would see that tea is now being drunk out of a similar straw by Tahlia, a little way down the bar. It's not how tea should be drunk, but it's just too much fun!
"Are you alright, buddy?"

[Earl of Purple]

The door opens, with a bit of struggle from the individual endeavouring to enter.

The reason for this is because he is a red-furred squirrel-like individual, with a long bushy tail at least as long as he is tall... Which is only about thirty centimetres. Sat upon his head is a black felt bicorne hat, with a blue jay's feather serving as a plume. In addition to this rather archaic headgear is a dark green waistcoat, with five badges pinned to the front of it. Slung over his back is a wicker basket with a pair of straps to serve as a pack, and the squirrel-chap carries a knobbly wooden cudgel.

At the moment, he's looking in awe at all the far-larger-than-he people and furnishings in the tavern, though shortly he'll walk to the bar, pushing the cudgel into his pack, and start to clamber up the chair, and from there jump onto the bar itself.

[Shadowcaller]

"I did bring back some funds with me from home," Fayyaad admits. "My family is very wealthy, so they wouldn't just send me away with no means. But I suspect it'll run out quicker than I'd expect."

"Ah, yes. Family. Where would we be without it?" Ambrosia says with a smile. "Still, you probably should go about getting that job while you have the chance. Or you could... find the money I suppose I heard some people descend into tomb-robbing. A strange occupation."

[Reinholdt]

A crazy bright yellow swirly straw extends up from the glass, loops around several times, and ends just in front of Reinholdt's face.

If he were up to turning his head, he would see that tea is now being drunk out of a similar straw by Tahlia, a little way down the bar. It's not how tea should be drunk, but it's just too much fun!
"Are you alright, buddy?"

Hooray! Problem solved. Reinholdt never could fault the Nexus for always having some random solution to minor inconveniences.

He takes a sip through the straw before turning his head and tilting it while refusing to lift it off the bar like it were some sort of pivot point. He eyes Talia a bit through his slightly puffy eyes, trying to determine if Reynard stalked him all this way, before deciding that line of thinking would be a waste of time. "I've been better. Thanks for the straw. How would you like to be a hero?"

[Recaiden]

Tahlia chuckles at the pivoting Rein-head. There's lazy, and then there's this.
"I don't know. I was more of a quest-giver than a hero, back in my day." Not that her day could have been too long ago. She probably doesn't look like Reynard at all. Plus, it'd be difficult to follow by arriving first. I think he's safe.

"What have you got in mind?"

[Reinholdt]

Rein sighs slowly. "Nevermind. It's not for the uncertain." After all, killing two random strangers based solely on the word of a third random stranger is involved.

"No offense, but you look far too young and beautiful to be a quest giver, let alone one who is past that." Reinholdt finally sits up, brushing his cheek off carefully.

[Recaiden]

"Very well. I have a mailing list of more determined heroes if you want it out out there.". He's made the right call, though. Tahlia isn't the murdering type.
She gives a shake of her head, and one might just be able to tell that she's blushing.
"Oh? And you aren't? When your cheek isn't red from pressing on the bar, anyway. "

[Morty]

"Ah, yes. Family. Where would we be without it?" Ambrosia says with a smile. "Still, you probably should go about getting that job while you have the chance. Or you could... find the money I suppose I heard some people descend into tomb-robbing. A strange occupation."

"I believe it's called 'adventuring'. Well, who knows. I might try my hand at it myself if I have to." Fayyaad turns to glance at Reinholdt and Tahlia when he hears the word "hero". "For now, I think I ought to talk to that person."

[Cyber Punk]

Bo laughs just a bit. "I have to agree, Chromium Star and the Reach are both good targets. Probably better information sources I'd guess. But, I ranked them lower priority because they have the better networks. Building security alarms, cameras, communication systems... but the biggest reason is their, ah, motivation. Fighting spirit. I'd expect them to be coordinated and stand up to fire - guessing, of course, I haven't seen them in real action yet." He shrugs. You just never know. Robots, at least, aren't known for backing down.

To the second part, "We should go in together, I think, and watch each others' backs," the other MERC replies. "Although you have a couple of critical roles, in the data extract and covering withdrawal. All right?"

"As for the way in, just have to breach a door and alarm. I can handle that. Maybe drop us on a roof if the ground looks too well covered. Also, what you said about misdirecting - think we should grab a couple of uniforms from one of these other outfits, first?"

[At the Bar]

[COLOR="#6699ff""Alright, alright! YPA it is."[/COLOR] Holly responds, chuckling. "That sounds wiz. All what you said sounds wiz. Lead on, chummer, though I'd like to do my own recon when we get on site, if that's wiz with you."

[Reinholdt]

"Very well. I have a mailing list of more determined heroes if you want it out out there.". He's made the right call, though. Tahlia isn't the murdering type.
She gives a shake of her head, and one might just be able to tell that she's blushing.
"Oh? And you aren't? When your cheek isn't red from pressing on the bar, anyway. "

Reinholdt gives a short, sardonic laugh. "I suppose so. I wasn't really trying to be one. More just trying to pass the buck. Though I suppose that's all they kinda are, aren't they?" He doesn't like to think he's gotten that old, but maybe he has.

"I'll pass on that mailing list. And I give the bar pillow at least three stars." Best bar pillow yet today. "Guess I should introduce myself. I'm Reinholdt, Retired Adventurer. And you?" Reinholdt gives a subdued flourish.

[Morty]

Fayyaad makes his way to Tahlia and Reinholdt. He gives a bow once he has their attention.

"Greetings. My name is Fayyaad ibn-Haashid al-Zafar. I couldn't help but overhear that you're in need of heroic individuals."

The newcomer is a tiefling of medium height, fairly young. He's got dusky skin, dark hair and a short goatee. He's wearing travel-worn leather and linen clothes, with a chain shirt visible underneath. There's a sabre and a dagger at his belt.

[Recaiden]

"Some people get straight to it without going on quests themselves."
Tahlia smiles and knocks on the bar. Seems pretty stiff and uncomfortable to her.

Then she freezes. Blinks a few times.
"You're the Reinholdt? Wow. I'm Tahlia, retired prophet. Pleased to meet you."

She nods to Fayyaad, and makes a sweeping gesture that indicates this is Reinholdt's to answer.

[Orm-Embar]

[At the Bar]

The man nods. "Right. So, that's it - we have the basic plan outlined. Have another drink! Tomorrow we'll get up there and get to it." He leans back, against the bar to face the room, relaxing.

"This is how we used to do it in the old days," he comments. "A few of us on the team getting together to talk it out. We had a lot of leeway."

[Reinholdt]

"Yes," Reinholdt replies to Tahlia, fidgeting a little. "Nice to meet you. Didn't know one could retire from being a prophet." Guess if you lose your mystical powers.

The fey swivels on his stool to look at the Fay with a difficult name. There was a point in his life where difficult names were easy to repeat back. But this one sounded like too much effort. So rather, Reinholdt just rubbed the back of his neck. "I... guess... so?" He admits a bit reluctantly. "Why, do you want to be a hero?" The tiefling is certainly polite enough to be one Rein supposes.

[Morty]

"I like to think of it as my aspiration," Fayyaad replies. "I'm an expatriate from my home country and I'm looking for opportunities to do some good while I'm here."

[Recaiden]

"Well, it's not so much that you retire when you're done working, so much as the spirits stop talking to you and you're not qualified anymore."

Tahlia twitches in a way that might almost be a shrug, and turns to look Fayyaad over. Claims to be a hero, but wears a goatee. What makes him think he's qualified to be a hero?

"Are you sure this is the right way to go about it?
That could really be addressing either of them.

[Reinholdt]

"Sounds like a story." Reinholdt said, likewise to both of them. But he would hold off on digging any deeper and satisfying his curiosity. It was tangential to now.

He shrugs at Tahlia. For Reinholdt the entire thing was supposed to be rhetorical in the first place, maybe get some affirmation about how silly the whole situation was. In terms of Fayyaad, Rein really didn't see a problem with the tiefling's approach so far. Networking was surprisingly important in pursuing heroic endeavors.

Rein takes a moment to down some of that rum from the mug he's now nursing in his hands before jumping straight to the point. "Well it's a pretty simple task really. All you gotta do to be a hero is kill two people. Think that's up your alley?"

[Morty]

Fayyaad pauses. Seems he didn't expect such bluntness.

"That would depend on who those people are," he says.

[Recaiden]

Woah. That's. Not completely unexpected. But very straightforward. Guess the context didn't matter if the hero isn't willing to do the job in theory. Tahlia waits, a bit too eagerly, to hear who.

[Reinholdt]

A fairly diplomatic and neutral response. Well at least the idea of killing itself wasn't off the table. Wouldn't expect less from a budding hero who chose BDD as their starting point, granted.

"Mithras and Boudica. Last I heard, the former was sacrificing beautiful women for power and the latter was abusing young children and is supposedly dead." Reinholdt takes another gulp of rum. "That's pretty much it. They're supposed to do worse things in the near future."

[Morty]

Fayyaad ponders it. That sounds bad. But he only has this stranger's word for it. He's reckless, but not that reckless. More information is required.

"Do you know where they can be found? And how do you know about them?"

[Reinholdt]

"No idea," Reinholdt admits, leaning back with remarkable flexibility until his head is back on the bar and he's staring up at the ceiling. "I know about them because I'm a Trickster God with a vast information network. Apparantly not vast enough if they don't know where to find those two. I'll rectify that on Monday when I go in to work. Don't suppose you'd rather become an information broker than a hero? Less risk, better pay."

[Zefir]

Two men with red robes enter the Den. They seem to be twins, because they got both black hair, red eyes and a lightly taned skin. The only way to tell them apart are the ornaments on their robes. One only got them on the left, the other one on the right.

"Excuse." "Us" they start. "We search" "for someone." "Has anyone" "seen him?"
Both take out a sketch to show it to the people.

[Morty]

"No idea," Reinholdt admits, leaning back with remarkable flexibility until his head is back on the bar and he's staring up at the ceiling. "I know about them because I'm a Trickster God with a vast information network. Apparantly not vast enough if they don't know where to find those two. I'll rectify that on Monday when I go in to work. Don't suppose you'd rather become an information broker than a hero? Less risk, better pay."

((Come to think of it, is Reinholdt a cat or a cat-person in this scene?))

"Wait, wait, wait." Fayyaad raises his hands for a moment. "Did you say you're a god?"