2 February 2072, Ifako-ijoha District

I will be there, our paths in this matter are aligned, for the time being. Thank you for the medical supplies, many lives will be altered for the better by them.

At Afrika's mental prompting Izoduwa carefully examined the visitors aura before slipping into the dreaming trance. As the newcomer was leaving he dipped into the pocket of the ill-fitting trousers and pulled out a handful of chicken bones which he cast casually into the air.

Afrika hunkered down and let the spirit examine the patterns they made in the dirt where they had landed.

Who are these people this man seeks to protect I wonder and why are they so important?



Things were coming to a head faster than he had hoped. He had offerings sufficient to beg the service of only two Ancestor Spirits, he could make more but it would take time, time he clearly did not have.

Izoduwa suggested that if he was going to act he should be bold.

Yes, I agree, I will be bold. I will beg the strongest of our Ancestors to aid us. It is a risk but he who dares wins, no?

His decision made he concentrated for a moment as Izoduwa gathered the bones up from the ground. As he did so the very earth itself began to part beneath the pair, who sank calmly into the rapidly deepening sink-hole. Within seconds they were lost to sight and the earth had closed up again as if nothing had happened.

Deep beneath the surface, nestled within the roots of the giant trees that formed the grove above, a dark womb opened before Afrika and he stepped off the rough steps that had carried him downwards, like some mystical subterranean escalator, and let them disappear as the wall closed up behind him.

The chamber was lit by a faint bio-luminescence emitted by the liquid that clung to the massive roots that lined the walls. The dry floor had many strange markings surrounding a pool of the glowing liquid. Afrika strode over to the pool, shedding his clothing, but not his human form, as he went. Izoduwa maintained the magics that allowed him to pass in human society without remark and were also of benefit in conducting these rituals as the human form could safely channel much more mana than his own form.

He waded straight into the pool which came up to his waist at the centre. He immersed himself completely in the liquid briefly before standing and retreating slightly towards the edge of the pool.

He tipped his head back and laughed, the magic here was strong, intoxicating. The life force of the mighty grove, the enchanted sap that swirled through the water and the dual-natured bacteria that thrived in it made the whole chamber glow like the heart of a star to those that could see the Astral World.

It was quite impressive to mundane vision too, if a bit creepy.

Oh mighty Ancestors I beseech thee, lend me your aid in this time of great chaos I beg of you.

And so Afrika's deep booming voice began the ritual.



After many hours of channelling Mana into the form of his revered Ancestor the invocation was complete. Afrika was slightly dizzy from the strain but his head cleared when Izoduwa briefly dunked his head in the pool.

That went well Izoduwa, perhaps fate smiles upon this enterprise. However a Warrior might be less willing to help us.

He sipped briefly from a bowl containing a herbal concoction of sugary sap to replenish his energy and began to repeat the process.



Trembling with exhaustion Afrika collapsed to his knees in the pool. The Ancestors truly did favour him tonight.

He dragged himself from the pool and, reverting to his normal form, fluttered up to an alcove in the roof tucked behind some particularly thick roots. He conjured a watcher to wake him in plenty of time to finish his preparations for the meeting and collapsed into a deep sleep filled with dreams and portents.

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
(Pan:passive)

Solo walks back in side and closes the bay door, locking down the place for the night. "Looks like I may be able to pay those bastards off sooner than I thought, Honey. I may not even have to go too far this time."

<<Chris, there are only two things you are good at-
"You're forgetting one."
-that people would pay you for. If it's not smuggling something across Africa, then it's the other, so let's hope you have to do some amount of driving. You're less likely to get hurt that way.>>
"Says you. People don't use missiles cause they bounce off of things. Besides, I'd miss the barbie you've been workin' on. You're gettin' better you know."

Wynona blushed, as best she knew how, at this. Cooking wasn't her forte, but she was getting better at it. Solo always tried to lighten the mood before any job started. He'd be hard pressed to keep his mind on the job if he knew Wynona was at home sulking. Cooking and her romantic-comedy trids seemd to keep her spirits up, so he encouraged her to keep at them. He ate almost anything she made and watched her trids with her when he was at home.

"Go ahead and see what's on the trid. I've got to get in touch with this Ghoster fella first."

(Pan:active)
<<@Ghoster: G'Day mate! A fellow on a bike came by my warehouse today. Said the Daughters recommended me for work you have available. Figured I'd find out from you if this is a fair dinkum or not. If you want to meet, let me know.>>
(Pan:passive)

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
(PAN: Hidden)

Kano had expected a commotion over the magic being tossed around in the street but he hadn't expected there to be a crowd forming to watch. Dinner and a show...or something like it. Usually when combat magic got tossed around people ran for cover. He'd drawn his revolver in the hope of rendering aid but he was unable to determine who to assist. In fact, Kano had never seen a spirit in combat without a mage nearby and his usual method of stopping the fight wouldn't work in this instance.Besides you don't even know what this fight is about and isn't their a saying about sticking something into other peoples business. Note to Self: Carry more Stick-n-Shock rounds.

By the time Kano finished his train of thought the fight was over, the dwarf was dead and the spirit was gone. As the crowd began to disperse something pinged Kano's paranoia, something the dwarf had said. He decided to search the body, crispy as it was. As he picked through the remains a presence invaded his mind, he'd been subject to a mind link spell before but he'd always found the experience unpleasant. Radiating restrained hostility, Kano listened to what the spirit had to say. After me huh, damn and I just got here too. Usually I have more time to make a nuisance of myself. "And I'm sure Mr. Ghoster won't have any problem with me checking his credentials."

(PAN: Active)
From Hammer<<@Ghoster: I have encountered a spirit saying I must contact you. If you are who it says you are we have much to discuss. If you are not however...well you must know enough about me to know that I am a very bad enemy to have. I truly hope we can work something out.>>

Kano considered the spirit, he didn't like magic but he didn't have any magical defenses while he slept. ""I guess I have no choice but accept your offer of aid. Alright, come on." Kano turned and headed back to his hotel. On the way back he fired off another message.

Hammer<<@DesmondtheDaemon: I need you to dig up everything you can on a person in Lagos going by the name of Ghoster. BTW good work on the equipment. Next time I'll send you my Christmas list instead of Santa.>>

When they arrived back at his room Kano hung up his jacket again and laid his revolvers on the bed next to him, making sure one of them was loaded with Stick-n-Shock rounds. He checked his messages. Most of them were from Holiday giving him grief for "abandoning" her, some of them became quiet explicit. One however caught his attention.

Holiday<<@Hammer: I'm here.>>

"Well shit. There goes a good nights sleep."
(PAN: Passive)

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.

With the fire consuming the streets, emergency responders push people back exclaiming, "Back to your homes! This is not a show!" The ignorance of comfy corp slaves was never more apparent.

DesmondtheDemon sends a rather interesting dossier on Ghoster. Most obviously, Ghoster was a VP at CrossApplied on Special Projects. He's been working Lagos since the Crash, and hires more people than refers people to other jobs. In the last 2 years, he has been engaging in more charity and humanitarian work. His jobs have even gained a reputation of being goody-goody. Unreliable street gossip is that he died and came back to life.

Around Midnight, Ghoster sends his reply:

From Ghoster<<@Hammer: Indeed, I know enough about you to know you're a worthy ally. I would prefer to meet you in person so the option of shooting me would put you at ease. That is not an option; the situation has changed and we must have haste to discuss a mutual problem. I'm attaching the address and details of a lunch meeting tomorrow. I understand if you do not desire to meet, but do keep this comm-code. RSVP at your convenience>>

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa

Indeed, Ambalo could make out the conspicuous restaurant. It was locked up tight, and had some fancy security tech installed around it. Some noise above the restaurant could be heard as a family was winding down for bed.

On the way back to his place in Mushin, Ambalo notices an increase in the security presence. In addition to the standard gun-toting grunt, paracritter teams and spirits began patrolling the streets. They notice Ambalo only to pass on their patrol routes.

Morning, 3 February 2072, Ikeja, Lagos, Africa

Ghoster cringed but willed himself to check out the morning propaganda.

Lagos FM Radio: Broadcasting
Language: Lagosian Pidgin

Good Morning Lagos!

This broadcast is brought to you by the Lagos Council. Providing Lago the status quo and safety.

===

Last night on Victoria Island, a large firefight ensued when a Shedim impersonating a Horizon employee sneaked onto the island. Island security heroically handled the threat before anyone was hurt. Here's the report from the chief of Island security:

"Yeah, we pummeled it with bullets and shredded body parts everywhere. We stuck to our policy of shoot first and ask later, and kept the island safe."

However when asked about the 1,000,000 Laira damage, the chief replied: "I only get paid to shoot bad things. Clean up is someone else's job."

No truer words were spoken! We look forward to the recovery of the Victoria downtown island.

===

In related new, Horizon public representative held a press conference this morning about yesterday's events:

".. while it is regrettable that a Horizon citizen was subjected to an abomination of the spirit world, we promise that all Horizon employees will remain safe and secure through our increased vigilence. For public, be assured that no further Shedim threats will ever come from Horizon."

===

Horizon and GlobalDynamix, a new BBB corporation, have agreed on a plan to provide matrix and electrical infrastructure. The venture is expected to cost 1 billion Nuyen and will provide more consistent matrix and electrical power to civilized parts of Lagos. The final plan will be sent to the Lagos council for final approval. They are expected to vote on the proposal next week.

===

In other news, the Yoruba Council Represenative Olabode Lekan announced a new plan for a multi-million Nuyen road way system connecting Lagos to the rest of the Yoruba kingdom. Council members have yet to discuss the plan, but there is already initial support.

===

A recent security breach at an Aztechnology plant released many genetically modified pets into the neighboring Mushin district. While an explosion from the breach killed large numbers of Aztechnology employees, the Aztech public spokesperson proudly declared nearly all pets from the warehouse were retrieved!

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa

Hmm, either this is an interesting coincidence or the meet is bigger than I thought. Better stay indoors for now.
As soon as he was back in the apartment, Ambalo set himself down to rest. Setting an alarm for a few hours before the meet, he lay down in a spot where the sun wouldn't shine directly and tried his hand at resting. It didn't come easy.
(PAN: passive, default signal)

Morning, 3 February 2072, Mushin District, Lagos, Africa

Alarm activated.
Ambalo opened his eyes to a brighter room than he wanted. The square of diffuse light from the sole window was mildly irritating, but not too uncomfortable. Wouldn't matter much in an hour, anyway, time to suit up and hit the street. Torso first, then attach the upper limbs, then the lowers, finally the boots and gloves come on. Ambalo could've done it in a few minutes, but liked taking his time, giving each servo and joint a check. It was a luxury he rarely had during his time as a mercenary.

He then put on his helmet and let it integrate itself with the rest of the suit, activating all the systems and running diagnostics, the commlink in the suit was vastly superior to the one he normally carried, although he rarely used it to more effect than his basic one.

Main commlink switch to Milcomm 0, routing signal through metalink 1)
(PAN: passive, Primary comm=milspec helmet, routing through metalink)

Ready for the day, he equipped his axes and bow, wrapped himself in a large, black cloak to hide the most obvious parts of the suit, changing the exposed parts to a matte black, and took Abiola in hand.
"It's showtime."

Morning, 3 February, 2072 Oshodi-Isolo District, Lagos
(PAN:Passive)

Yazata wakes early, well before dawn, refreshed and healed from the Drain of the failed Invoking. No message from 'Ghoster'. Odd. Usually people searching for talent get responses out quickly. "I wonder why."

He thinks for a moment, eating a sparse breakfast as is his habit. Yazata decides that if he has not received a message yet, any meeting would not be happening in the morning. That leaves him free to try another Invoking, the last one he can do with the materials he has at hand. Who knows when the next opportunity would present itself. He considers the Earth spirit, as its attitude is diametrically opposed to that of the Guardian spirit. Nevertheless, for tactical reasons the Guardian spirit is the preferred one.

Yazata calms, focuses and centers himself with holy phrases. The candles burn and the incense tosses wisps of fragrance through the room. He begins.

"Come to me, Guardian spirit."

"I am here, Master."

"Prepare to be bound into Great Form."

"Hah! You will try again? Certainly, Master. Give it your best shot."

Yazata draws the mana again, in strands that envelop the spirit on the astral plane. Learning from last night's mistakes, he winds the threads in confusing patterns around the unruly spirit¹. Though the spirit opposes the attempt mightily, it manages only to limit Yazata to no further debt of service².

Yazata concentrates on the image in his mind of the magnified spirit, and calls it into being³. Even at this stage, the Guardian spirit resists, and Yazata has to spill his own energy into the attempt⁴. At the end, Yazata fights the powerful energies coursing through his body, but is left drained and aching⁵.

Yazata then dismisses the spirit, a tiny sense of accomplishment in his heart. Perhaps his decision not to free this combative and argumentative spirit and start over would finally pay off. He immediately applies stretching techniques and curative potions to ease the pain⁶. This, combined with some rest⁷, leaves him restored by late morning.

Then he checks his commlink for messages.

Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
(PAN: Passive)

Kano considered Ghosters message for a couple hours. On one hand, there was the danger of going to any first meeting with a Johnson and in this city it was even more dangerous, especially in his particular circumstances. On the other hand, Kano knew virtually no one in this city and Ghoster seemed sincere enough although information on him was spotty at best. Don't really have much of a choice, you need the work and the contacts. If the meet goes sour you can always shoot your way out. Like you haven't done that before.

(PAN: Active)
Hammer<<@Ghoster: Ok, I'm in. Tomorrow, noon, the designated location.
(PAN: Hidden)

Morning, 3 February 2072, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa.
(PAN: Passive)

The trip from Victoria to Ikeja was uneventful by Lagos standards and the locals had more or less left him alone. Now he was standing down the block from the restaurant, watching. More security than your average Seattle highrise. Probably magical security too. Well lets just see who shows up.

Yazata discovers a message on is commlink.

From Ghoster<<@Yazata: It is my honor to finally meet your acquaintance. I'm assembling a team for dangerous work on the side of good. If possible, please come meet me for lunch. Along with several others, I will have the opportunity to discuss necessary details. Please see the attached information about the restaurant. When you arrive, mention you are for the Graystone party at the front desk, and they will show you to me.

I look forward to meeting in person.>>

Noon, Ikeja District bording Mushin, Lago, Africa

The streets team with life. Trucks, pedestrians, and critters pass through mindful of their business. Nearby, the sound of construction pierces through the midday commotion.

Standing at the entrance of the restaurant, a lovely lady takes in the sights and sounds. It has been more than a millennia in which she had the pleasure to appreciate a city with life and vigor. Thoughts of the dark things of this city brushed her mind, but she swept them away.

She greets every customer with an exuberant cheer and warmth. When in her presence, no one has the vaguest thought of what troubles them. On the astral, she glows with feelings many in the city have not felt in years.



Inside, a very different set of emotions were in motion. Ghoster frowned at the latest intelligence reports. The Elders may be right; we may not have time to play a strategic game. The Elders have been growing impatient with the injustices of the world and had pushed for a holy war against all the corrupting forces of the world. However, Ghoster managed to persuade them to allow discretion to achieve their noble goals. Ghoster just hoped he would recruit the right men for the task.

In the mean time, several organizations were becoming aware of the existence of their organization. No one knew exactly who they were yet. However, if they forced the Elders to play bolder, then they would be known before they were ready. At best, they would have to play the slow political game of the public corporations and governments. At worst, they would resist conquest and extermination.

Late morning, 3 February, Oshodi-Isolo District, Lagos.
(PAN: passive)

Lunch ... in Ikeja? He would have to hurry. Yazata washes himself quickly, cleaning the sweat of the morning's exertions off. (Not that it would matter in about 15 minutes of this heat, anyway.) He arms himself with the knife and the pistol, and steps outside to hail a cab.

Almost noon, 3 February, Ikeja District, Lagos
(Pan:passive)

Once at the restaurant, he pays the cabby and scans the restaurant from the outside. A menu appears in AR by the front door. "Hmm. Can't see any magical wards on the outside. Probably wouldn't anyway. Just in case ..." Yazata ensures his weapon focus dagger is disactivated. A glance around the neighbourhood "Is that someone with metal eyes?" and he steps towards the restaurant.

A receptionist, a lovely lady outside the restaurant, greets him. "What a charming woman."

"I am here for the Graystone party."

Edit: Ooops. posted this just as the last message from budoka05 came up. Fixed for continuity.

Almost noon, 3 February, Ikeja District, Lagos
(PAN: hidden)

Like most ghouls, Ambalo did not like the sunlight. Unlike most of them, he was wearing a milspec suit with what more or less amounted to climate control, along with a big, black cloak covering everything except the front of his helmet and his boots. This sight greeted anyone who bothered to take so much as a passing interest in him. In return, he kept alert. Not too obviously, but enough to get a nice look at everything nearby.

He soon found himself in front of a woman. Ooh, receptionist huh? I'm moving up in the world. She's even half decent looking.


He announced his intentions through his helmet.
"I am here for the Graystone party."

Noon, 3 February, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa

Around this woman, Yazata and Ambalo can't help but feel a warm sensation soak into their awareness. It is the fragrance of a rose, the song of a harp and the embrace of a woman.

"Welcome my good gentlemen! My name is Yareen and I'll show you right to your table. If you need anything, I will be happy to fulfill the request...within civility" she adds with a wink.

Walking to the back room, Yazata becomes aware many of the patrons are spirits. Some give me looks of respect, while others eye him closely.

In the back room, a Euroasian man with blue eyes sits at a long table reading a paper file. His form fitting suit shows that he is in good physical shape. Although his face his quie young, the man has streak of very gray hair on his left side. On the astral, he shows a calm focus with a tinge of anxiety. He does not show any bioware or cyberware.

Ghoster immediately spots the two and covers the paper file. "Good afternoon, I am Ghoster. Yazata and Ambalo I presume? Excellent, please have a seat. We are waiting for several more individuals and the meeting will get started. In the meantime, please order anything off the menu. I'll be handling the bill for the meeting, so please feel free to indulge yourself."

To Ambalo a large troll comes up to him, and says politely, "Sir, please keep your weapons, but I need to remove your cloak."

Ghoster adds, "Ah yes, thank you T'chau. I do appreciate the need for weapons at a meeting, but I am particular about concealing them."

Noon, 3 February, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa

(PAN: passive, signal 0)

Ambalo smiled a bit and raised his visor. "Of course." He untied his cloak, passed it to the troll, and strode to a seat, powered armor and all.
"Understand, I wear a cloak to avoid the public seeing this."

Early Morning, 3 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
(Pan:passive)

Solo is sitting staring at his pistols which he has just finished field-stripping and cleaning. His Enfield is leaning against the side of the coffee table, having already gone through it's weekly maintenance. "Still nothing..."

<<Shouldn't he have contacted you by now?>>

"Well if he's smart, he's probably been finding out as much info as he can about us. I can't blame him for that. That or he's decided against it.", Solo exclaims as he starts sliding his Hammerlis and Predators into their holsters. "Either way, better to be ready."

Solo walks into the garage from the living room and starts running checks on the Rover with Wynona. He checks the fuel and battery charge, while she goes over the ammo load on the Vindicator and makes sure the turret has no sticks or loose spots in its movement arcs.


"Everything looks good, hun. Now we just wait.", Solo lets out with a resigned sigh. "If he doesn't call, the Daughters may not be enough to keep the slavers off my back this time."

Noon, 3 February, Ikeja District, Lagos, Africa
(PAN: passive)

"Thank you, Miss Yareen. You are most kind." Yazata follows her into the back room. "Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Ghoster. I appreciate your offer of lunch. I have had a busy morning and am famished." Yazata calls up the AR menu, while studying his prospective teammate and the 'Johnson'.

The last few years, trekking across Asia and Africa, have taught Yazata many things, not the least of which was the misery that comes from quickly jumping to conclusions. In the beginning, a room full of spirits, with some clearly not happy to be around him, would have alarmed Yazata. And a ghoul sitting to lunch with him? Who was to be the main course?

What he had to keep in mind was that this fellow, Ghoster, had invited Yazata and others, including apparently this ghoul, to a meeting because of their shared ethos and similar goals in life. So, if that is the case, then there must be more to this fellow than first appearances. Besides, it would be the height of impropriety to cause a scene when his host had given both of them the equivalent of sanctuary in his home.

He offers his hand to Ambalo. "Hello, I am called Yazata. Pleased to meet you. I see your point about the cloak."

Early Morning, Lagos, Africa

Solo receives a call:

"Hello Solo, this is Ghoster. I am happy that my associate was able to get a hold of you. You've come recommended by the Daughters and I believe I have a job for you. If are free for lunch, come meet me and several possible team members. I've texted you the location of the restaurant; it's in Ikeja close to Mushin.

Do you have any questions I can answer over the phone?"

Noon, 3 February 2072, Ikeja, Africa

When Ambalo removes his cloak, Ghoster says, "Thank you Ambalo, I very much appreciate it."

"Yazata, you are very welcome." Ghoster happily replies.

Glancing at his AR display, Ghoster announces, "It appears that several others might be late to the meeting, so we might start a little later than expected. However, I am free to answer any general questions to help you gauge the jobs that happen."

Ambalo took the extended hand with a cold, metal grasp and a light shake.
"Likewise. And do not be alarmed by my appearance, I have no ill intent."
The dwarf facing Ambalo seemed a bit stiff, but this was probably his first time seeing a creature like him. At least an intelligent one. Ambalo took a silent picture of him, as well as noted his scent. Had a faint smell of incense.
"I take it you were doing some sort of ritual? Maybe a prayer this morning?"

Ambalo then turns to Ghoster.
"Questions and answers? My favorite. First of all, what kind of job is this? Hooding? B&E? Extraction?"

"This first job will be B&E and Extraction with a twist. However, my employers will be able to provide support for the extraction component.

To clarify, this job is as important to my employer's objectives as well as assessing how well our working relationship might be. Regardless of the outcome of the mission, there will be the option of choosing to take on more operations from us or splitting ways amicably. "

Ghoster means every word he says, and all indications point to that.

"Like what I hear so far. What sort of mission support do we have? I'd also like to know what compensation will be like.

Noon, 3 February 2072, Ikeja, Africa
(PAN:passive)

"So, we will have to shine on the first job, in order to get more work later from these people. Typical, I guess."

Yazata notices something interesting on the menu. It appears there are a couple of Middle Eastern dishes available. On a hunch...
(PAN:active)
... he sends a special request to the kitchen for a Persian dish of lamb with yogurt and raisins. In moments an affirmative response comes, as well as the sight of an excited, swarthy man dressed in whites looking out the kitchen door at his table. He then disappears back into the kitchen.
(PAN:passive)

"Ghoster, you mention a 'twist'. I am curious as to the nature of that twist. Or is this too specific a question before the others arrive?"

Magic and shooters will provide assistance once you've acquired the extraction target. We will also provide armored escort away from the site for you and the target. Compensation is roughly 80,000 Nuyen. However the form can come in Nuyen, Naira, rare gems, telesma, food and water. Of course, the exact worth of the form of payment will depend on market rates.

Turning to Yazata, Ghoster says, "An excellent choice, the lamb is quite fresh today, as are all the meats. Ambalo, I suggest the Ethiopian raw beef platter. It's bloody delicious."

"Addressing the question, yes telling the twist would divulge too much at this juncture. However, I can say the target is like a ill-humored hostile mage."