The Zhanaarkan Dead

As soon as Kraft knocks on the door, it swings open, revealing a small man in a white linen shirt and beige pants, holding a small, sand-colored hat in his hands. He is leatherfaced and wrinkled, with nervous eyes peaking out from behind a full beard and bushy eyebrows. He looks at the three of you with an expression of momentary disbelief. "Y-you..." he stutters out, an anxious look on his face, his voice a soft rasp, "are you the ones? Was...was Rahimah really able to send you?" He waits for your answer, his face a mixture of fear and desperate hope.

The Mayor's partial admittance to the trio, is interupted by the shouts and laughter of a dozen or more children as they swarm into the courtyard of the Mayorial residence. Several seem to be enacting a fight or battle scene. One of the larger boys jumps up on the edge of the fountain, and kicks the water at several of the others, splashing them vigorously. "I am Serik, and I have come for you Warlord Mizraklamak!!! You cannot hide behind all your men. You do not have enough of them!!" With a yell, the larger lad, and the ones playing with him, move off and the troll you'd seen earlier entered the compound surrounded by more children, none standing taller than his knees, and probably none older than 4 or 5 years old. Serik carries two of them easily on his left shoulder, supporting them with his large hand, and another rests in the nook of his right elbow.

The large metahuman, and entourage, stop just beside the gurgling fountain, and Serik puts down the children, squatting carefully, and speaking to them, quietly for a moment or two, tousling a head here, and thumbing an ear there. His face breaks into what could pass for a smile, except on the huge man, with his goblinized face, its hard to tell. The children all giggle and laugh loudly before scooting off after the older children, though on little girl, dragging a small doll, turns and waves once before running off around the corner...

Serik smiles again, as he waves back, before moving to the front stairs of the large house. Seeing the Mayor himself standing in the doorway, Serik smiles again, revealing a large mishmash of malformed tusks and bony proturbances in the area of his mouth. His lips and skin around his mouth have stretched and pulled to account for his new 'teeth'. He takes the steps two at a time because of his largish frame, and the entrance way seems suddenly more crowded as he nears. He gives off a slightly musky odor, like he's been travelling for a few days and carried a dead animal part of it, covered over by the ever present dust...


"Mayor, at your request, I've come again to assist you." Serik nods slightly formally, his horns almost scraping the ceiling in the entryway. "It seems as though it has not been long enough since I've seen you, Akniet, having only been here three months ago. Is this a bad time?" The large meta looks at the trio standing between him and the Mayor in askance....

Upon seeing Serik, a smile flashes momentarily across his face and he looks visibly less nervous. He stops playing with his hat and straightens to greet the massive troll. "Serik! I'm glad you could, um, make it my friend. Now is...ah...not a bad time at all. I was just asking these three if they were sent by...by Karavan regarding my request." He pauses, his eyes worried again. "Not...not that I don't believe in you, Serik...but...there are a lot of-of them this time. I...I wanted...wanted to make sure..." His hands fumble with his hat again, but he manages to recover himself, turning back to the three strangers. "Were you? S-sent by Rahimah, I mean."

"That was a tad unnecessary, wasn't it?" Murmured the Doctor to Ace, during the brief tenure of her being attached to his arm. And then, deciding to put on a pleasant facade despite the scathing tempers of the two women, the Doctor nests the monocle upon his left cheek and knocks upon the door - only to have it opened, almost promptly. He smiles his brightest smile, and is prepare to deliver a entre of due proportions-

When a duely proportioned Troll comes into the courtyard, trailing an entourage of children! The Doctor steps aside as the red horned behemoth goes tottering towards this older gentleman, with obvious personal attachment. A single eyebrow is lifted, and a gaze glanced aside for Ace.

. o O (Competetion, indeed.) O o .

And then the Mayor addresses the Trio once more, and the Doctor swings back into action; Thunder stolen, but not dismissed, by the overbearing giant what smells of decay and moldering fecals. "In a manner of speaking, yes. We were informed that this town may have some troubles, and came - entirely of our own volition. I am Doctor Theus. With me are my companions, Ace the gunslinger.." The Doctor sweeps a hand aside, to present his sumptious firecracker of a man-killer.

".. And Nalan, the best Karavanli pilot I know." A further sweep of the hand, to include the young Karavanli. Who, hopefully, has had a moment to recover herself! And the Doctor didn't lie once, this entire time.

".. At your service, if you'll have us."

Akniet's face breaks into a wide smile, relief etched in every feature. "Oh thank goodness!" The exclamation is sudden and boisterous, completely at odds with his previous demeanor. "I feared that no help would be had, but now, with so many...it is more than-than I could have hoped!" He hobbles back to open the door and welcome the group in, noticeably favoring his right leg. "Come in! Please! You do-don't know how thankful I...I am that you've come!"
The house inside is dim and faintly musty, though decorated tastefully with tapestries and a few paintings. An old spinet sits in the corner, covered in a thin patina of dust. The room is lit from the windows, which are just a bit too small for that purpose, leaving the room just a tad dark. There are plants in the corners, which seem well-cared-for, in contrast to the carpet and furniture, which are stained and worn.

Ace ignored the doctors chastising. The girl needed some tough love, and the doc sure hadn't done anything to dissuade her. Usually Ace would have a snide comment to driver her point home, but her thoughts were interrupted by the entrances of the 'competition'.

Ace couldn't decide who she wanted to shoot more, the troll whose odor caused her to grimace quite visibly, or the children. Ace despised children. She was quite happy to see the little bastards run off to do what ever it is snot nosed brats did. Unfortunately the troll did not scamper off as well. To make matters worse, it seemed he was quite acquainted with the mayor. Which meant that there would be no competition elimination this time around.

Ace straightened her face and sighed heavily on the inside. It looked like they would have to work with the foul trog. First chance they got though, that thing was taking a bath.

The moment was, apparently, not nearly long enough for Nalan, who languished in silence, brooding as she stood with cyberams crossed over her stomach. Her mind churned through several revenge possibilities, foremost amongst them the idea of sabotaging Ace's rocket bike so she had a little 'accident.' But eventually she sighed, imperceptibly shaking her head as she let her arms slide down and her posture lose some of its painful stiffness. Doing anything to get Ace hurt would mean disrespecting all the work the Doctor had put into making her healthy, and besides... she couldn't do that to the rocket bike. After all, Ace's deplorable behavior wasn't its fault!

No, she would have to come up with something more subtle, something ingenious. Also something more timely. They had work to do now. Nalan followed the group into the house, checking the corners instinctively. Although she doubted the aged man posed any threat to her or the Doctor, betrayal and treachery were nothing new to her, and it wouldn't surprise her at all if there were men "waiting in the wings" with guns. It equally wouldn't surprise if her they were just needed to go settle a dispute with the man's neighbor and then were heralded as heroes. Whatever the case, Nalan kept her eyes and ears open, and her mouth closed. It wasn't her place to do the talking... unless the Doctor needed her to. Then she would. Even if he would probably ask Ace first.

"Excellent. It's so refreshing to know that our small comraderie could help with this endeavor.. " Begins the Doctor, hands clasped behind his back as he strolls quite casually after the older gentleman. The monocle in his eye tinting pink as it switches through the spectrums; For all his casual demeanor, he - too- is watching the corners, so to speak. Never know when a potential employer might find your ware more profitable than your person!

".. Whatever this endeavor may turn out to be. I hate to be brusque, my good man, but I was impressed with a sense of urgency in the calling. Why not tell us what troubles you endure, so that we may see to its alleviation?" A glance back at his companions, and a raised eyebrow. Before he subtly taps the comm-piece on his wrist, to signify he has something to say! And no way to say it outloud. Especially with the Unknown Component, aka the big troll ape.

OOC> Perception rolls. 12 if Visual, 10 if Otherwise. To see if there's anything sneaky hiding about, and just as general 'whats around' roll.
OOC> Visual Test, 3 hits
OOC> Other Senses, 4 hits

Then Kraft's eyes go down towards those legs, and he quietly taps on his lips - but makes no mention of it just yet.

. o O (So. Either an old soldier, or a clumsy dust farmer. Mm.) O o .

Another glance at his compatriots . o O (Well, that was an ill advised manuever on my part. Then again, I suppose I can't really do anything if they decide to choke one another out. ... Well, beyond sedate them both and strap them to beds. But I've just gotten here, it may not quite be time to garner a reputation for bondage) O o .

Akniet turns and snatches up a cane, using it to propel him across the room with surprising swiftness. "I am sorry, I do not usually entertain many guests in my home. Would you like some tea?"

Entering the room, Kraft notices that the house is mostly silent and some of the furniture is covered in white sheets. Over the mantle of the fireplace sits a gold and ivory urn, which is clean and dust free. Akniet bustles with the tea set, his back turned.

Serik allowed the humans to enter before him, removing his bow and rifle from his back, before ducking low and turning his head to the side, in order to allow his oversized frame to fit through the door. Even so, it was a tight fit, and he grunted slightly as a buckle on his coat caught the frame. He carefully stopped moving and reached with his left hand to unhook the snag. He then huffed out the remainder of his breath and slipped through the door. He smiled ruefully at the others, and leaned his bow and rifle against the wall near the door. There was no place for the large meta to be seated without destroying the furniture, so he squatted down comfortably. He had the look of one who could wait in that position for many hours if required...

Yes, Akniet, tell us what need you have of us? It has been many years since I have travelled with the Karavan, and I know not if my father would be happy to know I was here once more. But I was informed on the way here, that the yassi prohibits the involvement of the Karavanli. I assume that is why I and these others are here. Serik nods to the others while speaking, but then turns his attention fully upon them.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Serik...Beibitzhan, an independant trader in these parts, though I was formerly a member of the Karavan. It seems I enjoy some small amount of notoriety in these parts for helping the good mayor and his town not so long ago, with a small matter of a 'tax collector'. My celebrity status elevates me to some sort of hero status with the locals..." Serik has the decency to color slightly red, though it is difficult to tell with his trollish complexion. "Akniet, tell us why you've called us..."

Ace withholds the sneer that begins to creep across her lips. She didn't really care for the newcomers life story or boasting. A local celebrity did not really dictate a low key mission. Ace was only fooling herself. Nothing about her was low key about her, and she knew it. She knew that she was just trying to find excuses to not like the troll. It wasn't that she had anything against trolls in general. The guy just smelled something awful.

Without asking permission, Ace plopped herself down in the softest chair she could find. She slouched deep in the chair with her legs outstretched and crossed in front of her. If the host wanted to take care of them, she wasn't going to complain. They were here to take care of his problem after all. It was the least he could do.

"Make mine an Irish tea."

She placed her hands clasped behind her head as she waited for her service, and for the explanation of why they were here.

"Whatever you have on hand would be more than acceptable," Nalan's humble acknowledgement of the elderly gentleman's offer for tea. She knew her manners, what she didn't know was what tea tasted like. Still, it wouldn't do to possibly offend this man by turning him down. Nalan considered herself lucky that he hadn't protested her comfortable but admittedly informal attire. It must speak to his level of desperation to search for help in such a band of misfits.

And speaking of misfits, the troll surprised Nalan with his sudden exposition. She couldn't figure out why the information he shared mattered to her or the group, but she nodded to show her interest anyway. At least when he finished he redirected attention back to the matter at hand. Nalan wondered why Akniet delayed explaining the job to the group for these pleasantries, but he was... 'advanced in age.' Perhaps he just preferred the old way of doing things. Nalan could respect that. But she wanted to know what they had to do and all this pouring of tea and drinking it to follow would just delay the sating of her curiosity.

Searching for an island of stability, Nalan glanced over at the Doctor to see how he planned on approaching this. He managed to be straightforward and to the point while remaining patient and gentle in his approach, and Nalan would take her cues from him. Even if he didn't appear to want to have much to do with her.

"Mister Beibitzhan, then. A pleasure, I suppose." Begins the Doctor, smiling quite politely towards a blushing troll. . o O (Well, thats certainly a new one on me. Usually, that particular metatype is too busy explaining how, ah ha, -packed- they are.) O o . "I admit, I've never been in the same room as a desert celebrity." Another perfectly honest truth; Most Brawlers came from nearby slums or warzones. While the story was useful in knowing against whom they were placed, it did nothing for the original predictament - which was finding out what they were supposed to do. None the less, to be polite, the Doctor does seat himself upon a chair in quite the professional manner. Tapping the finger once to the side of his neck, just over the collar.

"Tea sounds wonderful, then."

And then he quietly subvocalizes, nothing moving but his adam's apple. The wrist mounted commlink picking up the command and transmitting..

>>> Comm Status -- Restricted. Now Opened.
>>> Begin Transmission

"Nalan, my dear, I have a rather odd request for you. I'm afraid I am not quite familiar with the customs of the area, and I'd hate to offend our host and his generous bounty. Would you be able to broach the subject of business in a suitable manner? I fear a faux pas on my own part, and as for Ace...

Well, perhaps it may be best if she doesn't speak much at all. And have you ever heard of our troll companion? He claimed to have been a member of the karavan, and of some notoriety."

>>> Transmitting to NalanComm
>>> Sent.


>>> Comm Status -- Open
>>> Begin Transmission

"Ace, have you ever heard of the Troll? I realize you may not necessarily be familiar with Karavan, but you seem more prone to the area than I am. in terms of contract, it may give us some idea of what 'trouble' is abound."

>>> Transmitting to AceComm
>>>Sent.

Akniet nods and struggles to pour out the tea. Nalan realizes that he is doing this because he feels that he has to be hospitable, as he has invited you to his home to do him a favor. He turns, holding the silver tray steadily, and begins hobbling towards the coffee table.

The sudden ping of a notification lead to a pleasant surprise for Nalan: the Doctor's voice speaking in her head. A mental command later and she connected to the channel, composing her response through her direct neural interface before sending it along to the Doctor. Doing it that way had the benefit of expediency, but the distinct disadvantage of coming across as a cross-section of Nalan's thoughts without being edited for clarity.

'Odd request'? That's not an odd request at all. An odd request would be asking me to tie his shoes together. Are you sure you want me to do it? Wouldn't he be expecting to deal with the highest-ranking person here which is you? I can... do what I can to help, give you pointers, offer advice. He might be offended if you let a lesser do the talking instead of dealing with him directly. But if you really want then yes, sure! I can discuss the job with him.

Then she considered for a second, before adding,

Nope, haven't heard of the troll. We don't even know if he's being truthful but then again it's not likely I would have noticed him anyway, unless he had a really special vehicle. I usually remember those.

While she thought her response to the Doctor, Nalan moved up to take the tray from Akniet, not in a pushy way but acting as his relief. "Please, sir," she supplicated the mayor in a quiet voice. "This isn't something an esteemed man such as yourself need concern himself with. Please allow me to serve you and your guests." She accepted the silver dish from the man gently and stood waiting next to the coffee table for everyone to sit down before placing their drinks in front of them, starting with the Doctor, and then the mayor's troll friend and Ace, before serving the mayor himself and setting the tray down on the table. Finally she took a seat and reached over to grab the last cup herself, keeping her eyes focused on the liquid contents of the fancy container.

Ace smiled wryly as Nalan handed her the cup of tea. The fact that the girl had chosen to serve the troll before her did not escape Ace. It was a subtle gesture, but sent quite the clear message. Petty as she was, Ace couldn't let such a slight go by unchallenged. As she blew gently over the surface of the liquid, her eyes cut upwards at Nalan. "Yes dear mayor. Allow our humble servant to handle such menial tasks."

She took a long sip of the tea, savoring her comment much more than any taste the drink might impart upon her.

While she appeared to take another sip, she responded to doctor's inquiry but not before cutting off any scolding that might come from her comments towards Nalan.
>>>Re:Troll
"Don't even get started about the servant thing. She was asking for it."
As for the troll. I know nothing of this Serik fellow other than he smells like the back end of an ox. I don't care for him much."

*click* ... *tick*

*click* ..... *tick*

The subtle noise of a metal latch releasing and reconnecting hardly stood out over the background noises of the large house and the squeaking of furniture, and Nalan kept her hands folded in her lap well enough to cover the fact that she was playing with her wrist. It popped out of place, creating a centimeter gap on the palm side and connected by a hinge on the other side. Then she pushed it back down, before repeating the process. Disabling a vehicle could usually be accomplished by severing the airflow, just one quick cut. Nalan pictured applying the same technique to a certain acquaintance as she toyed with her cyberarm welding laser.

Serik nodded at the monocled human who appears to be the trio's spokesman, intending to further the conversation, when Akniet turned from the prepatory table. The mayor looked a lot older than the last time Serik had seen him, a mere short three months or so, prior. He'd walked with the cane then too, and limped, but, he looked more...aged...He looked over the others once more, this time in more detail, as he waited for the mayor to speak his piece. He could push Akniet only so far, before the mayor would get all patronly, and admonish him for his poor manners. Their relationship was somewhat past the aquaintance stage, but well short of friendship in Serik's estimation. A change, Serik hoped to effect through further business dealings with the man. Zhanaakha was an important stop within Serik's new territory, and on the Karavan route. It never hurt to have friends in high places.

In the mean time, one of the young women from the trio, stood and assisted the Mayor with his tray of refreshments, serving the well, though strangely dressed man with the monocle, then himself and the other non Karavanli, before serving the Mayor and finally herself. That the woman, girl almost, served the obvious stranger, identified him as the leader of their trio. He was served next, probably as an unknown to her, though a friend of the mayor's bumped him up the line somewhat. "I wonder what they would say if they really knew who I was... he thought to himself, then admonished himself almost instantly. His father, Kurosh-e-Kabir would not be happy with his son, when his son finally came to see him. Serik had been gone a long time. He dared not even consider the welcome that Rahimah would bestow upon him...

The interplay of almost hidden scowls between the woman, and the almost impassive disinterest of the man, alluded to something that Serik couldn't quite put his finger on, but he noted it just the same. Serik, like the others, patiently awaited the mayorial business, his tea cup dwarfed in his massive hand and all but forgotten in his musings.....

"If we had any servants, I'm certain they would be leaping to the matter." States the Doctor, smiling quietly at Nalan as he takes the tea in hand. "It makes me appreciate Nalan, who is willing to perform such a task for friend and equal alike." Rather than rebuke Ace - since that'd be like hitting his head against brickwork (Painful and likely to cause damage) - the Doctor merely 'qualifies' her statement. He then sips the tea, at least briefly, before swallowing one too many times. At the very least, his adam's apple is bobbing again, while tiny green text scratches itself across his monocle.

>>>To: Nalan
>>>From: Dr. Theus
>>>
"I'm hardly a person of higher ranking, Nalan. Perhaps in the field of knitting bullet holes back together, but I certainly couldn't handle a heliocopter. You've knowledge that I desperately need, and I'm not ashamed to ask for your help in this regards. Your insight is welcomed with open arms."
>>> End

Another sip. "So. Serik, if I may be so informal.." Begins the Doctor, glancing aside to the Troll. "How do you and the Mayor know one another? Ah, but I'm forgetting my manners. May I introduce Ace, our resident munitions expert.." A nod towards the sparsely dressed vixen. ".. And Nalan, our chief mechanic and impervious charmer." A nod to the young woman on his other side. "And I, am Doctor Theus."

>>>To: Ace
>>> From: Dr. Theus
>>>
"I happen to agree, in regards to the scent. If I could sedate him, do you suppose we would be able to find a fountain large enough to dip him in?"
>>> End

Akniet smiles to Nalan, betraying a hint of relief. He turns to the assembled crowd, his voice soft, high pitched, and slightly labored. "I...suppose you're all wondering what...why I've called for you, yes?" His eyes grow steely and, for a moment, he looks simultaneously stronger yet so old and weary as he might collapse from the weight of his burdens.
"There is...a group of raiders...they came about three weeks ago. At first they just asked for...for money in tribute. Well, we were okay with that. We thought we'd just find someone sufficiently strong and well armed to clean them out." He looks down, his eyes sad. "But it did not stop at money...no, it went...went further."
Akniet pauses, seemingly loathe to go on. Eyes draw inward, galled by the memories. "They started taking people. At first it was just one or two, but...now they are-are taking four at a time. They took my niece! They killed my brother!" He screamed, his voice suddenly so violent as to be startling. "They took Mariam, that poor child! She'd never hurt anybody in her life and they just dragged her from her home after forcing her to witness the horrors they visited upon her father! And I could-could do nothing!" All trace of Akniet's meekness are gone now, his eyes livid with fury and his face a mingled display of guilt and indignant outrage. "So, that is why you are here. Please, for the sake of my town, for the sake of decency, rid us of these madmen! Or, if that does not move you, do it for your wallets. Our town is not a rich one, but I have managed to put together a sum of fifty thousand nuyen in payment. Bring me the head of the gang leader, and it is yours." His rage settles. He watches the four, an expression of weary resignation, prepared to receive whatever answer he might receive. "What say you?"

Serik's face, though it seemed not possible, tightened even further, his lips pealing back from his tusk filled mouth almost in a snarl. This was an old story, and the large meta knew immediately why he'd been called to assist, for this was what he did these days. This was one of the ways that he earned his living. If there were someone, or something that needed hunting down, Serik was who they called....

That it was Akniet's niece simply solidified the matter for Serik, as he'd had the pleasure of meeting the young girl the on his last 'visit'. In fact, she had performed a service not dissimilar to the one that the 'chief mechanic and impervious charmer', Nalan, had just performed. With Karavan in town, Serik had just assumed she was out greeting one or more of the several thousand tribespersons that just arrived...

"You know Mayor," Serik replied, adopting Akniet's title once more for formality, "that my services are always at the disposal of the people of Zhanaarka. That Mariam is the victim of one of these roving bands..." Serik pauses, almost as if he were overcome with emotions, though which emotions it is hard to distinguish..."I, of course, shall help return her to you and your familty..." There was the sound of breaking glassware, as the large troll unconsciously closed his hand into a fist, the delicate china all but forgotten in his hand as he thought of the evils that were, even now, likely being inflicted upon Mariam and the others that were taken. "Perhaps you can tell us more of these raiders? What they looked like, where they came from, and what if any information you might have as to their current whereabouts?"

Serik paused for a moment, as if returning to himself and his body, and looked down in surprise at the small pool of tea dripping from his hand, and when he opened his hand, several shards, all that remained of the tea cup, clinked to the floor. He leaned forward, almost sorrowfully, and began to pick up the shards, his large meaty hands, fumbling with the small pieces. He looked up apologetically at Akniet and the others, as he piled piece after small piece into the hand that had closed on the cup. He seemed impervious to the several pieces still imbedded in his palm. "I am so sorry...I don't know if you know...Two years ago, some raiders took Hande...

Akniet's expression softens, and he gives the troll a sad smile. "Thank you, Serik. I knew I could depend upon you. These raiders, however...they are not like others. They are stronger...and more terrible. I will not let you go alone...not this time. And I-I have little hope that Mariam is still alive...she was taken two-two days ago...." His head bows, resigned in his grief.

The shattering of the troll's cup brought a displeased frown to Nalan's face but she hid it well, standing quietly and walking out of the room without saying a word. For the second time she wondered in annoyance why this household lacked any servants, but she quickly scolded herself. The town was under siege, they didn't have enough people to spare someone for fetching drinks and towels. Nalan wandered around the rooms on the first floor until she located the kitchen. Fortunately it wasn't too difficult considering kitchens are normally located near dining rooms and lounges for ease of service, but for Nalan it was mere luck that brought her to the right room considering she hadn't spent much time in proper houses with standard arrangements like this.

After aimlessly searching through drawers and in cabinets, Nalan returned with another cup and a towel. She poured a second serving of tea for the troll, and wiped up the spilled liquid on the ground, along with bundling up the shards on the table and floor inside the towel. Then she took the whole mess back to the kitchen, remaining silent the whole time... at least, externally. On the way she sent another message to the Doctor.

But... your craft is infinitely more important than mine, why would you need to fly a helicopter? And, I- I don't really know what insight I have. Fifty thousand nuyen is a lot of money... well, to me. Is it enough for- is it worth your time? If you want something more perhaps you can ask if we can scavenge the raiders' gear once we've dealt with them? I'm sure they have some good vehicles we can sell back at Karavan... or maybe keep for ourselves.

The stoic look etched upon Ace's face hid the storm of thoughts that brewed beneath the surface. At the forefront of those thoughts was anger. Fifty thousand nuyen was a nice chunk of change. And to think, they would have to split it four ways instead of three. It was a travesty.

It wasn't that Ace had no sympathy for the people who had been taken. She knew exactly what fate awaited young women captured by roaming raider bands. It was not something she would wish even upon Nalan. That said, it was a risk one took living on the fringes of society. A rare risk, but a risk all the same. That didn't mean Ace wouldn't treat the raiders with the utmost contempt. There would be no need to load her guns with stick-n-shock rounds for this job. No, for this, she would shoot to kill.

>>>To: Doc
>>>From: Ace of Spades
"Before you even ask, we are taking the job."
>>>End

>>> To: Nalan
>>> CC: Ace
>>> From: Dr. Theus
>>>

"An excellent thought Nalan just had. We should be able to recupe more than a fair share of nuyen by recovering the raiders equipment. And, Ace?

I had no intentions of asking.

I believe it may be time to garner ourselves a mutual comm sign, for our oversized heavy to use as well. If we are to succeed, we'll have to utilize his girth in addition to Nalan's skill and Ace's gunnery. I'll pull up a randomizer to grant us a solid seven digit."

>>> End Dual Transmission

The Doctor remains entirely passive as the Mayor explains his predictament, and the Troll goes about destroying crockery. Green text continues to etch itself across Kraft's monocle as his harried conversaton continues with his erstwhile companions, the Doctor sipping quietly from his tea in the sudden silence after the announcement of the task - and the substantial reward. His eyes close for just a moment.

Young women, in the most desperate and dire straits that one could imagine. Innocent villagers. . o O (I never proposed myself as a heartless man, but can I afford to risk everything I have on a fourth of fifty thousand nuyen?) O o . After a moment's consideration, he nods once, and places the tea cup upon the table.

"Conceivable." He states, with all due business, a facade of a medical professional delievering the bad news. "Do-able, perhaps. The reward is a benefit, but my actions are motivated by my enragement at the predictament. Ace?" He glances aside, towards the gunslinger. "What equipment would you say we'd be needing, in the form of.. deployment against these raiders? Ammunition, munitions, etcetera? Nalan?" A turn towards the young mechanic. "Vehicles for hunting Raiders? Armor? Modifications? I'll need an estimate of what you think is necessary." And finally, back to the Mayor.

"You may count us amongst your number, my good man. I know its asking a lot, but.. would you be willing to portion the funds necessary to get us properly equipped for the excursion, to both rescue what we can - and end the raider menace?" A glance aside to the Troll. "In addition to the queries of my newest compatriot, I suppose. You do have a means of travel, yes?"

And, one more time, for the Mayor. His voice far softer this time. "If .. we find her. In whatever condition she may exist... do you want to know, for closure's sake?"


OOC> Attempt to 'persuade' the Mayor to agree to fund the initial startup excursion. 2 Hits