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The You Who Will Never Be (M)

Started by Valtxr, June 22, 2017, 12:49:05 AM

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Valtxr

   A peaceful river in Western Connlaoth. The Mystral.
   The early morning sun peeking through the leaves of the temperate trees. Reflecting off of the ripples of the flowing water. The far western mountains of the Kilanthro range through the trees; their distant snow-capped peaks crowning the canopy of the forest. Birds singing their songs. The breeze, like the breath of the Earth, rising and falling. Swaying the branches above the dirt and the grass. The serenity of nature undisturbed.
   The river flowed.
   And flowed.
   A body. Face down. Carried along by the river. The water red all around it.
   The moment slowly dying. The wind howling now. Hinting at a coming storm.
   The body passed.
   Clothes in the water. Flowing in the wake of the body. A woman's clothes. White shirt. Brown underbust. Bracers. Boots. Pants. Socks. Underwear.
   And the river flowed.

* * * * *

   Sharon didn't know what to expect as she approached the old wooden shack by the river. There could be one person, or ten. A normal person, or a mage. Anything.
   But she was ready. As ready as she'd ever be. She had to do this.
   Sharon stepped up to the door of the shack. Stopped. Listened. The steady flow of the river behind her. Birds above in the trees. Nothing from inside. She glanced about her surroundings. Alone, as far as she could tell.
   She steeled herself.
   And pushed open the door. Stepped inside.
   A woman. Pretty and gentle-looking. Wearing a white robe. Standing by the far wall. She glanced up and smiled once she saw Sharon.
   "Ms. Gordon?"
   Sharon shut the door behind her. Nodded. "Yes."
   The woman stepped toward her, extending her hand. "Good to meet you in person. I'm Adelaide Ingram. From the Healer's College in Sanctuary, Adela."
   Sharon shook her hand. Smiled back. "Nice to put a face with a name."
   "Likewise. So, has Ms. Bowen told you about everything in our correspondences?"
   "Everything I need to know."
   "Okay, good. Good. I was expecting to meet with her today, but it's good to hear you're all caught up. As Siro's sister and proper guardian, meeting with you will certainly make this easier."
   Sharon took in a breath. Her chest heaving. Appearing nervous. "Will Siro be alright?"
   A reassuring tone from Adelaide. "I've done this many times before, Ms. Gordon. I promise you, nothing bad will happen to your little sister. Truth be told, I've learned a few things about smuggling  and trafficking from my brother. Unlike him, I decided to use these skills to do something good in the world. It's a shame, really, that this must be necessary. The Grand Duke Allarrick and his foolish ways. Perhaps a new day will dawn on Connlaoth, and these barbaric days of unjust persecution against mages will end. But until then, I will do what I can and help the innocent escape safely into a land where they can live their lives in peace."
   "I see."
   Adelaide tilted her head some. "You still sound nervous, Ms. Gordon. I understand. But Ms. Bowen could not have picked a better place for Siro to live than Sanctuary. We'll take good care of her, and she'll be able to freely practice and master her life magic without fear. I'd even go so far as to encourage you to move to Ketra, but, if that's too much, you'll always be free to visit when you can. Our doors are always open."
   Sharon nodded. Her gaze askew from Adelaide's. Appearing uncertain. "I just want the best for Siro, you know?"
   "Of course, Ms. Gordon. I know this has to be hard for you: parting with your sister. But, as Siro's sponsor, I'll make sure to encourage her to write you as often as possible."
   "Please do." A moment passed. Sharon said, "May I ask how you'll be getting Siro out of Reajh safely?"
   Adelaide smiled again. "Ah. I see. This is what's been troubling you. Unfortunately, for the safety of myself and your sister, I can't tell you the specifics. I can only ask that you follow my instructions, and bring Siro to the agreed upon location. But you need not worry. I'll safeguard Siro with my own life if I must."
   "You're...going to do this by yourself?"
   Adelaide nodded. "Yes. I come alone on these jobs. Not only is it easier for me to do what I need to do, but I think it makes meetings like this much less stressful for those in your position if it's only myself, unaccompanied by a room full of rough-looking men. Wouldn't you say so?"
   Sharon lightened up. Appeared amazed. "Wow. So just you then?"
   "Yes, ma'am. Just me. So, when would you like—?"
   Sharon unsheathed her dagger and lunged forward and grabbed Adelaide by the shoulder and pulled her close and rammed the blade straight into her gut. She gasped, her body tensing against Sharon's. Sharon twisted the blade and pulled it out. Stabbed her again. Again. And again. Then drove the dagger up and between her ribs and punctured her lungs. Slicing and ripping and tearing the tissue as she dragged the blade out.
   Sharon allowed Adelaide to fall away from her. Down to the floor. Blood running from her stomach, down between the creaking old wooden boards. Blood staining the front of Sharon's clothes.
   Adelaide, in a panic, tried casting a healing spell. But blood bubbled up out of her mouth. A fit of coughing. A spatter of blood to the floor. The magic fizzled away in her hand. She tried backing up. Crawling away on her elbows. But she lacked the strength.
   Sharon stepped forward. Crouched down and mounted Adelaide. Straddling her wounded stomach. She could feel the warm blood seeping into fabric of her pants.
   Adelaide looked up at her. Shock. And horror. "Why? I just wanted to help..."
   Sharon leaned forward. Grabbed a handful of Adelaide's hair with her left hand. Held her head steady. Brought the tip of the dagger to the soft skin of her neck.
   And plunged the blade down.

   The door to the shack opened. And Sharon dragged Adelaide's bloody body down to the river.
   How dare she. How dare she try and take Siro away. To a land of full of filthy mages, and to a college of magic no less. And to accuse Siro of being a mage too? Unforgivable.
   It was fortunate that Sharon happened upon one of the letters, hidden away in one of Siro's books. Intercepted the rest and started her own correspondence with Adelaide. Had she not, she might have just come home one day and Siro would have simply been gone. The only good thing in her life, just vanished without a word.
   Merissa. That bitch. She had some serious explaining to do once Sharon got back to Reajh. First Jorge betrayed Sharon's confidence with Siro, and now Merissa too? Was there anyone she could trust?
   Sharon dumped Adelaide's body into the river, and the water started to carry it away. She walked to a nearby bush and pulled out a hidden burlap bag. Set it on the ground.
   Then she started to take off her clothes. Unbuckled her belt with her holstered pistols and set it down. Unstrapped her underbust. Her bracers. Took off her shirt. Her boots. Her pants. Socks. Underwear. And all of it went into the river.
   But there was some blood on Sharon's skin.
   So she dipped a foot into the water of the river. Winced at the coldness of it. She sat down on the dirt, naked, both her feet in the water to get somewhat acclimated before she washed up.
   She looked down at her hands.
   They weren't trembling.
   And a small, dying part of her wished that they would.

* * * * *

   Twin Rivers was a small, cozy sort of town. A population of between three hundred and four hundred people. Mostly wooden buildings. Being relatively close to the western end of the Kilanthro mountain range, the town wasn't very flat. Practically separated into several different tiers, ascending the hilly terrain. Two small rivers flowing down from the mountains merged into one large river, the Mystral, in the center of the town, hence the name. The town also served as a trading post and a common stop for travelers going from Sirantil Valley through the western passes of the Kilanthro range and into the Niahi Woods and vice versa. Inns and lodges were a thriving business not just for these travelers, but for quite for a few wealthy nobles from Reajh and Uthlyn and from abroad that fancied a vacation to the scenic, verdant, and mountainous landscape of Western Connlaoth.
   Sharon, a fresh set of clothes on, walked through the roads of Twin Rivers and up the hills toward one such inn. A high-class place, named The Overlook. Appropriately named, and expensive, as it offered a gorgeous view of the entire town from the highest tier in the hills. The leftover money that she had from the Cerenis job bought her this luxury. For a small time.
   Sharon crossed the iconic wooden arch bridge over the conflux of the two smaller rivers into the Mystral. Smiled and nodded to a local couple as they passed her. Pretended to be a good person.
   More walking. Small shops. Homes. A few wagons rolling past her on the road. Children running by, laughing and chasing each other. An idyllic place. A certain peace that just couldn't be found in Reajh.
   Just the sort of place for a monster to hide in plain sight.
   Sharon started up the steep, narrow, winding road that led up to The Overlook. Exposed, gray rock always to one side of the road, and some sparse old, wooden railings to the other. Several carriages were parked at the base of the road, with a small stables nearby for the horses. Seemed the road—which was honestly more of a path—was too treacherous for vehicles.
   But Sharon reached the top. Passed a well-to-do nobleman and his wife and son as she entered the front doors of The Overlook. Walked through the spacious lobby and toward the door leading to the outside deck.
   The large wooden deck had an absolutely stunning view of the whole town and the Kilanthro mountains in the distance, even if the view right now was obscured. Gray clouds had gathered in the sky, and the misty haze covering most of the mountains suggested rain. A slow moving storm, likely to be over Twin Rivers within an hour or two.
   Several tables were out on the deck. And there was only one person sitting there, gazing out at the landscape. Jorge Vrouge.
   Sharon walked up to his table. Pulled out a chair and slid it next to him and sat and looked out over the town and the Valley and the mountains with him.
   "Morning, Jorge," Sharon said.
   "Mornin', love," Jorge said. He glanced at her, his mask down around his neck. She wished he had it up; she hated looking at the nasty burns on his face. "So what the fuck were you doin'? Takin' a little stroll?"
   "Something like that."
   "Shoulda told me. I'da come right the fuck along, lemme tell ya." He glanced back out over the railing of the deck and at the landscape. "Ya know, I think I'll just start savin' up my coin. Retire here. Start up a little gamblin' house or tavern or some shit. Never really thought I'd be the kinda guy who'd like a quiet place like this, but I guess we're all full of surprises, aren't we?"
   "This place isn't so quiet. You know that."
   "Well, maybe after we're all done here, it will be."
   Two weeks ago, Sharon and Jorge and were on a job here with Charles. Non-wetwork for once. Just a simple transport job. Moving a large shipment of arms and supplies. Mr. Winters was diverting resources from Twin Rivers back into Reajh. Maybe he had something big planned in the near future, maybe he didn't. Regardless, it meant that his operations in Twin Rivers would be weakened.
   And Sharon saw the opportunity she was waiting for. Their contact during that job, Halis Durandan, was the right-hand man for the local underboss. A ruthless man, known simply as Reese. She knew where Durandan lived, met him in his own house even. So she could get him to talk. Squeeze all the relevant information on Reese from him. And then go and take Reese out. With so many weapons—and possibly even men—transferred away, it should be easy. At least, easier than it would have been.
   And with Reese dead, Sharon will have made her first mark on the criminal underworld of Reajh and Connlaoth. Established a name for herself. Gained some territory. The first and most crucial steps in imposing her own brand of order on the business.
   "Did you get any responses?" Sharon asked.
   "Oh yeah, of course," Jorge said. "Just a matter of who bothers to show up."
   Sharon narrowed her eyes. A slight frustration. The caliber of these mercenaries or whoever Jorge had contacted seemed far too much up to sheer chance.
   Still, Sharon had patience. Not that she had much of a choice. She and Jorge, despite the transferring of resources away from Reese, probably wouldn't be able to take him down by themselves.
   So she entwined her fingers together. Rested her hands on her stomach. Looked over the railing and toward the distant rain in the mountains.
   Waited.
   And tried not to think about Adelaide.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

Something was making loud stomping noises from below. From the deck, people could make out the vague suggestion of something in big in black...suit of sorts used for protection? One would hesitate to use the word "armor", as it would be an insult to the craft. Sitting on top of...it's, shoulder, was another, smaller green creature in what looked like rags. The smaller one was making a disgusting sound to the rhythm of the clanking.

Moments later it disappeared into the bar, down below a lot of yelling and screaming could be heard, before the loud clanking could be heard acsending the stairs...

Wrathwyrm

Across the known countries of realm, there was a tale...  No, not a tale.  A legend.  They say there is a highwayman - a master thief and rogue - who performs in every way known from hold-ups to whole-sale stealing.  He was driven and dangerous, but never a desperate desperado.  He's cunning and vicious, quick and backstabbing, devious and undaunted.  He even has his own ballad, which some people - despite his drain upon the economy - will sing and tell the tale of this daring and dreadful being.

"Hello, everyone!  My name is Juggalo Jim Batmire, and I'll be your entertainment for a while!"

Gary Blight.

He was a hero to his kind, the robbing hood of who steals from everybody and gives to The Goblin Way.  What do people know about him?  Lots of things.  According to the public, Gary Blight is a goblin, which IS true, who has a height of 6'7", wielding an axe and a giant scimitar, which is NOT true.  Other accounts of him call him a wizard, a doppelganger, an imp, and - amusingly - the Grand Duke in disguise.  He is claimed to have a poison touch, teeth of gold, and balls of steel.  That last one is actually true, figuratively speaking.

Here's what's actually true, though some or all of this may not be exactly known by the public...or they may 'know' it like they 'know' he's responsible for the Connlaoth Civl War: He is a goblin of dark skin who wears an black eyemask and dark clothes.  He's very-well prepared for numerous situations and given to be a massively successful thief who mounts a Hunter Spider Queen that he calls 'Concord'.  He has robbed various places in Serendipity, Connlaoth, and Adela...and rumor would have it in other more obscure places, as well.

He's also right here, right now, in disguise.

Gary was, in fact, Jim Batmire, a short-ish bald entertainer who dresses up as a hokey Musketeer and does various forms of entertainment for money and - to his own benefit - rumors and information.  To everyone he met as Jim, he was just a funny little man who wasn't winning any beauty pagents, but seemed quite human...thanks to this convincing mask.  'Jim' was currently wandering around the bar and sometimes to the deck, strumming a guitar and making up funny tunes on the spot.  Drunks would chuckle when he occasionally messed up a line or said something hilarious.

He was really watching and listening to all things of interest, such as rumors about a local worthless human trashbag's money.  Strangely enough, this was when an orc and a fellow kinsman arrived!  Now, this was interesting...

Skwint

Black Skull looked down from his perch atop the roof of the inn. He preferred showing up early when responding to 'advertisements' such as this. He liked to get a good look at who he would be dealing with.

Black Skull descended to the deck below. It was always good to be the first arrival when it came to things like this. He approached the table where the man and woman sat together.

"Who needs to die," he asked.

Gawfy

Gabe didn't know how she did it.  Two days ago Gabe was doing his own thing, Drinking the night away when a letter came to him. All it had written on it was The overlook's Address and a Small plea for help. Signed Sharon Gordon.  What a way to contact someone after two months. Sounds of mayhem and Mischief where just freshly made as gabe made his way into the bar. A short man playing a guitar, A man with one arm, and a Orc? Gabe chuckled to himself and wondered if they had anything to do with Sharon being here.   The Deck's door would open and Jorge and Sharon would hear a familar clack of Dress shoes on wood.

Long time no see. Gabe would say to the both of them with a smile on his face

Valtxr

   The payout was good. The job simple. Track and observe.
   Zhang Shin had followed the mark ever since she left Reajh. Stayed close, but not too close. Just watched from afar. Waited, perhaps, for an opportunity to arise. To get close. Mingle in. Gain her trust.
   Sharon Gordon was her name. And the Contact wanted him to keep an eye on her.

   Zhang had woken up before the sun had risen. Staked out The Overlook from far below until, at first light, he saw Sharon descending the path down sheer hillside. She had a burlap bag slung over her shoulder.
   Someone was up early. And heading out somewhere.
   Zhang followed her covertly. Out from Twin Rivers. Off the road and along the Mystral River until she came to a small, abandoned shack. Sharon set the bag down in a bush, making sure it was hidden. And she walked up to the shack. Stopped to listen. Glanced around. Zhang carefully edged back around the thick tree he was observing from.
   And she entered.
   After some time, she came back out. Dragging a woman's body.
   Zhang's eyes narrowed slightly. Unexpected. He thought of his own sins. His own transgressions against the innocent. The price he himself would have to pay. One day.
   Sharon discarded the body in the river. Stripped naked. Sat down by the edge of the water and waited for some time.
   Zhang watched quietly as she washed the woman's blood from her skin. Watched her get dressed again. Set off back in the direction she had come. Toward Zhang.
   He crouched down behind the tree. Held his breath. Stayed perfectly still.
   And Sharon passed by. Not even fifteen feet from him. Oblivious to his presence.
   When she was out of sight, Zhang stood up. Walked back up to the nearby road and made his way back to Twin Rivers.

* * * * *

   The still quiet of the morning (when it wasn't occasionally interrupted by some short, bald bard making the rounds about the inn) soon gave way to the loud stomping and clanking below the deck. Clearly, that was no vacationing noble. Sharon stood up from her seat and took a few steps forward to the railing of the deck and looked down.
   The deck was positioned such that it was on the very edge of the cliff-like drop down to the rest of the town. A good vantage point to see the winding path that led up to The Overlook. And what Sharon saw made her scowl and cringe. There was no way. No way those filthy green things were coming up here. No way they'd be allowed—and they just entered the inn. Seemed to be causing a ruckus with their mere presence, presumably in the bar next to the lobby. Goddamn it.
   Sharon turned her head slowly. Glared back at Jorge.
   "You cannot be serious."
   Jorge almost laughed out loud. A stifled noise in his throat as he held it back. "What's the matter, love? You wanna pick a fight with a big-time underboss, right? Gonna need all the help we can get."
   "I swear to god, Jorge."
   "You ain't ever seen an orc before or somethin'? You really need to get outta Connlaoth more."
   Pure exasperation from Sharon. "I swear to fucking god, Jorge."
   "Well, if you don't like the orc, maybe you'll like him."
   "Who?"
   "Him. Guy right behind ya."
   Sharon twisted her body and turned her head a little more. Then her eyes snapped wide open when she saw the dark, one-armed man approaching them. On a reflex, she yelped in surprise and spun around and drew her main pistol and pointed it at him.
   "Easy, Sharon, easy. He's one of the guys here for the job. Name's Black Skull. Just Black Skull, if you were wonderin', love."
   Sharon breathed a sigh of relief and holstered her gun. This man, Black Skull, seemed to get right to the point, asking her directly who she was after. "We'll talk. In a moment. Just...knock or say hello or something next time, would you?"
   Then, finally, a face Sharon was glad to see. The door to the deck swung open, and out came Gabe. A veteran of the battle at Cerenis. One of the small number of people Sharon felt she could trust.
   She returned the smile. "Gabe! Good to see you again. I was a little worried the courier might not find you in time. How have you been?"

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"OI!" Came a loud holler, it was from the orc in black, the goblin on its shoulder laughing like a manic to the rock the orc produced with each step. "Dis suppose ta be you!?"

The orc was holding a massive, one might add crude, great axe. But in the other he held in front of him a paper, upside down, scribbled upside down was the words "muffins".

Turns out he had held the wrong paper, the same paper he got right before that pesky courier literally slammed into him. After literally shaking the courier by his leg, Zaggit found a paper meant for some big shot mecnary, and the courier had skittishly explained what was it about.

Needless to say, the courier had him at the word fight.

Skwint

Black Skull hadn't even flinched when Sharon had pointed the gun at him. When she told him they would talk later he figured it was because they were waiting for the others who were undoubtedly also interested in the job. It was then that he heard footsteps way too heavy to be human. He turned and saw the orc and was immediately displeased.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered and turned to Sharon and Jorge.

"You don't expect me to work with that slackjawed brute, do you?"

Wrathwyrm

So, as it appeared, here was an unusual gathering of fellows over on the deck overlooking the territory of The Overlook.  That much was interesting, even made him wonder what they were up to.  Actually, he wondered...  Could it be the same as he?  Maybe.  However, the more pressing and immediate matter was that of the orc and the goblin who had disrupted his playing with a shout, and paper, and a question.  Gary - or rather Jim - couldn't help himself, and came over.

"What's this?"

He looked at the paper, smiling, then called out.

"Muffins!  Muffins!  Has anybody seen Muffins?!  Does anyone know the Muffin Man?!"

There was...no reply.  This was a high-class joint.  Nobody here was going to go by the monniker of 'Muffins'.  Jim looked over at the orc and the goblin rider.

"Nice mount, fella.  I think, perhaps, you want those people on deck, over there.  The one with the one-armed bandit and so forth."

Gawfy

As good as i could be i suppose, Getting in petty fights and drinking mostly. Believe  it or not i still haven't lost my pay from 2 months ago gambling. He said as he turned to Jorge. Now Fuckin hell That aint Jorgie is it? He said playfully as he  went in for a hug.  God All we need now is Charles and Rains and the gang would be back together for another mission. Gabe's  laugh was the only one was Sharon looked at the floor and Jorge seemed visibly  Uncomfortable  What? Gabe would ask them as they stood there.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Wot!?" The orc shouted at the top of his lungs as he looked at the paper he was holding. The orc couldn't really read "cvilized" languages, and was blankly staring at the paper. It was only when the goblin on his shoulder whispered into the orc's ears did the big greenskin emote.

"Muffinz! 'Ere!" The orc yelled at the top of his lungs, the fight more then forgotten.

"Of ova dere boss!" The goblin on the orc's shoulder crackled like a maniac as he pointed at the group at the deck.

"MUFFINZ" the orc yelled as he raised his great axe into he air with one hand and began clanking over to the group with the goblin hanging on.

Valtxr

   Time to move in.
   Zhang had observed Sharon and her associate, a man named Jorge Vrouge, from down below in the town. They sat on the deck of The Overlook together. Looked to talk to one another briefly. Then simply waited.
   Perhaps he was reading to much into it. Sharon's actions back at the abandoned shack suggested that she wouldn't be staying in Twin Rivers for much longer; that she would soon do what she had come to do. But the possibility remained: he could be wrong.
   A cautious approach was necessary. Learn as much as possible from afar.
   As Zhang made his way to the winding path leading up to the inn, a loud orc clad in massive armor was already halfway up it. Curious. Not the type that would be going to a place like The Overlook all of his own accord. Bidden by something or someone. Perhaps Sharon. Perhaps not.
   Zhang entered the inn. Stood for a moment in the lobby and listened to the orc shout something...odd. A short bald man in a funny outfit directed the orc out onto the deck, and the orc clanked and clattered his way out there to join Sharon, Jorge, a one-armed man in black, and a shirtless man with an intricate dragon tattoo.
   Zhang looked out from the large windows of the lobby at the deck. Then he approached the short bald man, still gazing at the group through the windows.
   Said, "A strange bunch there. Seems...out of place."

   Jorge had grinned and stood as soon as he heard Gabe's voice. Well, how 'bout that? A right proper stroke of luck: Sharon actually got a hold of him.
   "Fuckin' hell, mate, if it ain't ol' Gabe himself in the flesh! Come 'ere, you!" Jorge said as he spread out his arms and returned Gabe's friendly hug, clapping him on the back a few times as he did.
   Sharon, despite herself, seemed a bit jealous as the two men embraced.
   Jorge pulled back. Heard Gabe's next comment, and his grin faded away. Sharon averted her eyes.
   What?
   And Jorge cleared his throat in an awkward way. "Jessos is dead, mate. Murdered a few weeks back. And her fuckin' killer is still out there."
   No time for a solemn moment.
   The loud green monster who had clamored his way up to The Overlook stomped out onto the deck—by some unholy miracle managing to fit through the doorway.
   Sharon laid a hand on her pistol as the "orc", or whatever sort of freakish species it was supposed to be, approached, its weapon raised high above its head. She glanced at Black Skull—she was starting to like the man already. Despite the initial prejudiced misgivings that crossed her mind about his lack of a left arm, she'd work with him any day of the week over the green foreign filth that Jorge had scrounged up. And, god, that fucking inhuman stench.
   "Believe me," Sharon said to Black Skull. "I'm not thrilled about this either."
   Jorge was far less apprehensive about the big orc than Sharon. And, keen on diverting the subject away from Jessos Rains' murder, said to him, "Guessin' you're that Ugdanak Badaxe fellow, eh? And that's Zaggit? Lovely. Sharon, Ugdanak. Ugdanak, Sharon."
   Sharon didn't say anything. Just glared at the orc. Her hand still on her holstered pistol.
   Jorge continued, "Well, ya got the right place but the wrong note in your hand, mate. Ain't no muffins here."
   "Tell me this is all," Sharon said to Jorge, not taking her eyes off of the orc.
   "Maybe, love. Think so. Should, uh...should we move this to the room then?"
   Ugh. That's right. Sharon had planned on discussing the details in the room she and Jorge had purchased for their stay in Twin Rivers. Jorge just would go and recruit some disgusting freak like this Ugdanak beast. She could barely stand the creature now, and she found it hard to imagine that she'd be able to sleep comfortably tonight if it infected the room with its foul stink.
   Sharon didn't answer Jorge's question. Instead, she spoke to the orc. An unwelcoming tone of voice. "Why are you here?"
   She wanted a reason, any reason, to dismiss the vile beast and send it back to whatever hole it crawled out from.

Gawfy

Shit.... Was all Gabe could mutter as he heard the news. To think that the walking Force of nature known as Jessos rains could be murdered. Sent a chill up his spine just thinking about it.
Luckily the orc barged in Destroying the awkwardness he has just kicked up.
Wholly shit Jorge, Where the fuck do you find people like this?! Gabe said ecstatically as he saw the gargantuan being. Gabe then waltzed over to Sharon throwing his arm around her tense body.
Cmon Sharon it aint every day a orc comes up to you wanting to help our noble cause. Besides our team could use a bit more muscle! At this point it sounded like less of him making a point and more of gabe begging Sharon to let him see the Orc in action. Wait a minute,What is our noble cause here? Gabe said as he turned to Sharon wearing a more stern look. You mentioned in your letter we where doing another raid.Usually we go to Sir elf dick's estate get briefed then get paid. Whats the deal here? He asked

Skwint

"I hope whatever you had planned doesn't involve stealth," Black Skull commented to Sharon. "Orcs have no clue what the word even means."

If this was, in fact, a stealth mission then maybe they would send the orc away. On the other hand, if they felt his brute strength was necessary then they must have some big plans. At least Sharon shared his disapproval of the green beast. Getting along with your employer based on common ground such as that was good for business.

Wrathwyrm

It seemed to take an effort, but the curious twosome did find their way to the deck, as indicated.  Gary watched them head over there, the orc declaring 'Muffins' still.  Shame, really.  It was hard for The Man Who Would Be Jim to accept that not everyone was as learned - out of necessity, mostly - as he was.  Ah well.  So, while he was getting an idea of how many of them had any magic - Basically a case of 'not many' or 'not much' - a new fellow came by and spoke to him.

"Oh yes, I agree.  Definitely not the sort of people you find in an establishment such as this."

He gave the stranger a smile.

"Part of the party or just an interested party yourself?  I know I'm interested, but that's just my insatiable curiosity talking."

Yes...  He had to find out if they were around to do some of the same things he was planning.  So far, he could just hear a bit here and a bit there...because his assistance to the orc and goblin had gotten him semi-within-earshot.

Elector Count of WAAAGH!

"Iz come 'ere fere da muffinz, an' iz alwayz git me muffinz." The orc said in his deep cockneyish voice, as he bent down and began to move his "helmet" face inches from Sharon's face , to the point where full gusts of foul smelling stench were bombarding the women's face, before the orc shouted "W'EREZ DA MUFFINZ!"

Meanwhile Zaggit had scurried off of the massive orc, and was now tugging at a piece of paper attached to the orc's belt. What writing that was visible indicating something of a "muscle needed" help poster.

Seemed the big greenskin was preoccupied with thoughts of food, the small greenskin had thoughts of fighting.

Valtxr

   Zhang listened. The short man didn't seem to know for sure. Unfortunate. But now was a fragile time. An opportunity, perhaps, existed for him to get close. It came with risk, but any more delay, and the door would close on him.
   "Interested," Zhang said to the man. "I believe these are the people I've been looking for."
   And with that, Zhang casually walked toward the door to the deck. Stepped outside. Stood with his arms crossed behind his back and observed, a bit distant from the group.
   A few moments' worth of patience paid off.
   Zhang noticed the smaller greenskin reaching for a paper on the larger one's belt. A paper in the style of a bounty poster, from what he could see. The word "muscle" seemed prominent.
   And Zhang heard the tattooed man speak. Confirm the need for muscle. Mention something about an upcoming raid.
   Perhaps the Contact's suspicions were correct. Perhaps Sharon was indeed targeting Reese.
   As expected.

   Sharon hadn't taken her eyes off of the orc.
   And Black Skull was right beyond measure.
   The first part of the plan involved stealth. Fortunately, Gabe and Black Skull ought to be more than sufficient for getting Durandan to talk. After that though, for the actual assault on Reese's hideout, the big green brute could be useful. Hopefully it would die "valiantly" in the assault, using its massive bulk as a living shield against the gunfire or whatever other tricks Reese's men had up their sleeves. What a shame it would be if there was a small case of friendly fire. Happened all the time in a big, chaotic battle. Or maybe Black Skull might want a bonus payment for an extra service. He fit the bill of an assassin-type.
   There were options for dealing with the orc.
   So, for now, Sharon just replied to Black Skull with, "I'll make it work."
   Jorge grinned and shrugged. Said to Gabe, "You know me, mate. I'm a nice guy, when you get to know me. A real man of the people. Get around and such. I know lots of odd characters and the like."
   Sharon stood stock still when Gabe came up and put an arm around her. Her body only tensing more. The grip on her holstered pistol tightening, ready to draw and fire at a second's notice.
   And he was right, of course. Confirming her thoughts on the orc's usefulness during the assault on Reese's hideout. Sharon knew she wasn't in much of a position to be picky. She didn't have very many allies, especially for what she sought to accomplish in the long run.
   Gabe had another question, but Sharon never heard it. The orc had come close and stuck its ugly face only inches from her own, its breath washing over her like a hot tidal wave of filth. Sharon felt nauseated; as if the mere sight of the creature wasn't bad enough. Sickness bubbled in her stomach. She shut her eyes and pursed her lips, mustering all the willpower necessary to endure.
   Maybe Black Skull might want two bonus payments after all was said and done. One for the orc, and one for Jorge, for recruiting the damn thing in the first place.
   Still, all the brute's strength and bulk would be useless if it remained confused as to why it was even here. Especially so if it couldn't follow the simplest of orders.
   Sharon opened her eyes. Clicked the dog's head of her pistol back into the ready position. Her finger now on the hair trigger. Ready to draw. Hopefully, unlike mages, this thing could be killed by mere bullets if it came down to it. She'd prefer not to cause a scene and compromise the whole mission, but the orc might leave her no choice.
   Her heart thumped in her chest.
   "I'm only going to tell you this once," she said to the orc. "Take. A step. Back."
   Jorge glanced between Sharon, Ugdanak, Gabe, and Black Skull. Uncertain.

   And Zhang, still by the door leading back to the lobby, simply observed.

Gawfy

Gabe figured he could leave his question on the back burner for now as the orc shouted at them. Gabe sat there at the orc's words. "werz the muffins" He sat there confused as he goblin scurried to Sharon's poster with the words Muscle needed. Gabe snapped his fingers as it clicked. He then pointed to the orc. You are the muscle! He said as he turned to Sharon and Jorge.  I think he has been trying to say Him and his friend are the muscle.  Gabe guessed confidently. He let go of Sharon and approached the orc. Ugdanak we got people to smash and you are just the person to help, and  you to uh Zaggit was it? You guys stick with me and well make some easy money yeah?
Gabe said as he tried to defuse the tension that was in the room and calm Sharon down. Behind the orc there was another man just standing in the door way watching the group's shenanigans unfold.
Gabe cut a look then wrote him off as another person that saw the ad. 

Skwint

Black Skull positioned himself behind Sharon. If things got ugly, he was going to preserve the one paying him.

Wrathwyrm

Although Gary was close by, he wasn't quite so overtly trying to maintain observation and easy-listening as the other man, who was leaning on the door frame, leading out upon the deck.  He was overhearing, while doing a bit of juggling, this and that, though mostly when the voices were raised.  It didn't matter if he heard the whole of the conversation or not.  He had already decided that the suspicious lot were after something big, and the big fish in town happened to be none other than Reese.

Even if his assumptions were false, he could always get the answer out of the goblin on the orc's back.  Goblins look out for goblins, because they've got few others who would do the same.  If he asked the orc-rider what was what, he'd more than likely get the answers he sought.  That said, the orc might be getting the little guy into trouble.  The woman of the group was clearly a Connlaothian with all the prejudices therein.  He'd seen it a thousand times.  Plus, the gun was a bit of a clue, in of itself.

Gary wasn't going to act, just yet, but if those people gave him good reason to...

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