Alexander Dorn had enough trouble ignoring the nauseating stench, so even the thought of ingesting something in here was ...revulsing.
"Ah, I think I'll pass, thank you."

Losing no time, he walks around the back of the bar until he reaches the rear room.
There he takes 2 seconds to try to pre-assess the situation he'll soon find himself in ...and is not too pleased with the results.
No turning back now...It's just a job, after all, how bad can it possibly be?

Upon entering he takes a short glance around the room, announcing "Good evening, gentlemen."

Hm, quite a lot of people, so it's either Travis was right about the ...bags and bags and heaps and piles of money... or some of us will be going home without a job tonight. Let's see ...judging from the way they're positioned and the ...stiff atmosphere in here I can be sufficiently sure that these gentlemen don't know each other either (at least one thing we'd have in common then) and I'm still on time...

It is then that he realizes being the center of attention. Verdammt!

"Ah, I assume Mr. Brookes has not arrived yet?"

With that, they all seem to settle back to their previous occupations, consisting mostly of standing, brooding and staring with the occasional snappy remark.

Martin, while he recognises dr.John Sebastian among others he doesn't show it but when Bismarck asks his question Martin turns to this machineman, whose voice even has metallic whining tone on it "Yes, you could say so but that's no business of yours. I for example dont want to know nothin'about your metallic voice or that mask of yours." He shudders a little Yes, that good question what the hell I'm doing here with these? Martin takes his place in the room, waiting for mr. Brookes and watchin' others, its what hes used to do in Royal army, but this time his right hand is still under the jacket.

Han lets out a whisper of a sigh, tucking his hands again into the wide sleeves of his coat. There were times he regretted being stationed here, so deep into uncivilized territory. The barbarians couldn't even chat amongst themselves without being rude to one another.

Such behaviour from an englishman... and infront of foreigners no less!

Playful jibes were one thing, but outright hostility? Arthur believed the german would be in no such mood, and knowing full well what an individual with his equipment was capable of, decided it was his duty as a gentleman to intervene.

German: "I apoligise for my fellow countryman."

"Now, now, my good man. I'm sure we are all anxious to hear from this, Mr. Brookes, but that's hardly any reason to abandon civility now is it?"

Arthur paused, taking his time to draw on his pipe. He could see the tension in the room beginning to mount, and could only hope that his relaxed and calm demeanour was infectious.

"Most here have been waiting longer than yourself, and besides, it's such a pleasant evening. May I suggest you take a seat, enjoy your drink, and wait patiently. I'm sure Mr. Brookes will be here shortly."

He'd wan't to be, lest these men begin disabling each other before he arrives.

Martin looks Arthur, sighs Thats right, this man speaks truth. What's the matter you stupid cove, if there is work to do and this is your team you must know your teammembers strengths and weakness... and starts "I apologise my words but say if I'm wrong but I suppose that you don't know eachothers.

he pauses and then Martin continues
Does anyone of you know this cove mr. Brookes? What he does and what he wants from us? What you do, what is your speciality?

Martin points to dr John Sebastian
"I know this dr. Sebastian but I don't know what else he can do beside healing and I must say that I wonder what you all can do? Did you all get invitation directly from this cove Brookes, I didn't? I know what I can do...

Martin stops and glances each others and continues
...you could say that I'm soldier, ex-Royal army soldier. But i can guess that this work is some kind of flummut, here we have a doc and then here are all of you who seem to know life."

The Bull and Bear, 6:50PM June 15th, 1870 AD

Tempers seemed to be fraying among the disparate group of men. There was a palpable air of violence in the air. One thing however was agreed, Brookes, whoever he was, had a lot to answer for. Like showing up late to his own meeting. Finally several of the gathered were convinced that the round up was a waste of time. St. North was becoming paticularly edgy. The German man machine codename Bismarck was also beginning to lose all patiance. The rest were slowly imagining the truly horrrible things they would do to Brookes when he arrived.

Finally the door to the snug opened and a square rigged cove walked in. If one listened very closely you could almost make out the collective thought. This is Mr. Brookes? He was few inches shy of six foot and more than likely weighed less than five stone. He had ginger hair and in the dim light what appeared to be grey green eyes. His rig was a dark green topcoat and brown trousers,with a simple single knotted cravat. Over his ginger hair he wore a maroon top hat. In his right hand he held a glass of what looked like gin or it could be that new foreign vodka. Under his left arm he carried a medium sized parcel in butcher's paper, and in his left hand was a heavy looking brass headed cane.

Of course all expected an apology for waiting so long. But the first thing out of the man's mouth was "Cor, blimey!" followed by a rather simple look on his face. He moved to one of the empty chairs and sat down. "What I meant to say gentlemen, The accent now emerging from his mouth was clearly not the one he was born to. "Was, I am truly sorry for making you wait so long. Unfortunately for myself it has been a long and complex day. If you will pardon me, I suppose my meal will have to wait." He sets the brown wrapped parcel on the table, the odor of beef and chips wafts out from it.

"On to business I suppose. You gentlemen may know me. But to save any further confusion, I will state that I am in fact, Thomas Brookes. Now far be it from me to boast, but I am a fair cracksman and putter-up. And it is for this reason I have called this gathering together. I am in a bit of lavender. You might have heard that a man called Peter Dursely was in my employ. Well, he is no longer in my employ, but rather in the Steel. And that is where my trouble started. First off I needed Dursley's skill, and now I don't have it. Second, my crew is now running all over creation for some reason or another. So the job I have for you is fairly simple in the beginning, but potentially becoming more complex." He pauses for a moment to gather his wits and breath.

"I need three keys. I realize that this seems petty and ordinary to men of your clear calibur but that is what I need. Three keys in three seperate locations and only three weeks in which to procure them. Also if time and resources permit I need a certain set of plans from a certain office. I am afraid that my capital has in fact dried up, so I can not offer you more that fifteen 'undred pounds per key. I can also offer you another two thousand pounds for the plans that I seek. And that gentlemen is the long and short of it. If you will permit me I will now begin my long delayed meal and answer any questions you may have." He begins unwrapping his parcel to reveal a pasty and chips. He takes a sip of his drink and begins eating.

As soon as the last person to arrive established himself as his potential employer Mr. Thomas Brookes, Alexander Dorn reaches into his bag and retrieves a complex looking device about the size of portfolio, featuring a small, high-density electromechanic display and a cryptic keyboard.
From the faint sound it produces, one can suggest an immense amount of very small clockworks working inside, only surfacing at the mechanical docking port on the side.
All kinds of strange electric and hydraulic parts and connectors appear at the sides and back, some of them clearly unused, some showing activity in a seemingly random pattern.
Setting it up on his lap, Alexander begins to operate it with short bursts of quick typing.
Suddenly he shoots a glance at the 'muffler' that has been set up on the table, his mouth twitching sideways for a very brief moment. Returning his attention to his own device he proceeds by connecting his monocle to one of the numerous ports there and starts a flurry of typing, the machines' activity increasing.
All of a a sudden a small discharge of electricity arcs to his hand, making it jolt and singeing his leather glove, yet Alexander ignores this and, seeming content with his work, turns his gaze back to Mr. Brookes, his hand still on the keyboard.

This is truly a motley gathering.

Mr. Brooke, the names' Edward, and I'm a decent screwsman in my own right. Why are the keys so important? Is it access you want, or to deny another the same? Perhaps both?

Brookes swallows a crumb of pasty. "Good ta have a screwsman aboard. I'll be wanting in. And I can't get at my pogue without em. You sure yer name's Edward. Coulda sworn I's seen yah someplace afore."

With a smile toward Brooke, Jacob says, I suppose there might be more than one name attached to my face. However, I assure you that Edward is who you are speaking with.

At least as far as you are concerned.

I suppose then that these locks are something special or perhaps a bit out o' the ordinary. Else, I'd like to think that my skills would service.

Fifteen hundred per key, with or without the two thousand bonus for a set of plans, would go a lot farther were it not being split so many ways. Han restrains himself, however, knowing full well that his own unique talents lie more towards the bloody end of the spectrum than the technological. Given the gadgets, gizmos, and assorted other mechanical abominations -- Prussian and otherwise -- his hairy teammates seemed so eager to use...Yes. Perhaps they'd be useful, after all.

"Three weeks for three keys," he speaks quietly, without anything being pulled from his pockets. "The same time limit for the plans?"

I take it then, Mr Brooks, that these 'keys' are in some location, or in the property of personages, which makes them inherently difficult to acquire?

Keys? Cove needs keys, this sounds truly interesting. Thats fifteen 'undred pounds per key and per head? Martin smiles and continues Thats something we must talk more before we close the deal but now to the keys while he sits down, lookin' at those marvelous machines which are on the table. "These keys then, like my partner just said, we will need more info about these, who possess them and where they can be found?

"I find it likely that such information," the Celestial speaks up again, his English just a hair slower than everyone elses, his pronunciation very precise, "Is to be made available only to those who have, in fact, agreed to the task."

Should I stay so that I can turn them in? Should I hold a candle for the devil?

Like I said Mr. ... uh, Mr. Smith, Scotland Yard does not really need the help of a ... "detective" to do its job.

Very well, a man has to eat.

Count me in.

Brookes smiles as the questions start to fly. This was usually a good sign. "Well, like our Oriental friend say's I'd like to keep pretty tight on some o' this till I know wever or not you're going to take the job. But I kin tell you a few things" He polishes off his gin. "I ain't no screwsman but from what Dursley said my keys er fer a safe and the safe is a Chubb chaps." He lets this fact sink in. "I know two keys er in two houses, and the third is in a warehouse. I don't need the plans as bad 's I need them keys. But like I said I'll pay extry fer the plans. You lot kin figure if you want a get me them plans. Like I said my capital's been bled fairly dry. So it's fifteen 'undred per key I'm afeard. The up side is I do know theres a bit of an extry pogue in each place. And Ned, I was jest gulling ya a bit, I know my face ain't always got the name Tom Brookes. I doubt it."

Money was money. Why not? He'd see to it he could make time, two days hence, to see off the shipment of opium.

"I am interested in hearing more." Brookes would take it the way it was intended; as a yes.

Jacob lets out a low shrill whistle. I stand corrected. You will be needing the keys after all is said and done.

Jacob lets the remark about faces and names slide right on by.

This one will be big. No one uses a Chubb unless there is something to keep very, very secure. Well, when you hold the candle for the devil, you may not always like what you see by its light.

Spence tries to hide his embarrasment as the asian man points out is etiquette faux pas. This is not exactly is usual crowd.

Ah, right, yes , well then, I suppose I would be interested as well then Mr Brooks.

£8500 between the eight of us? A mere £1062-10s for each man here? I've made more money checking between the cushions of the settee! Still... if he needs our help in aquiring these 3 keys and plans, one could infer that he shall require our assistance on the greater endeavour for which he needs them, the rewards of which could make this early inconvenience seem petty by contrast. And beggars can not be choosers as they, though there's no reason to have him think me the beggar...

"Guineas." said Arthur.

"Pardon?" came the reply.

Arthur paused momentarily to settle himself making sure he would keep his voice even whilst he spoke.

"I said, 'guineas'. Putting aside for now the matter that little over a thousand pounds to each of us for four seperate tasks over a period of three or more weeks seems as worthwhile as a prostitute with a chastity belt, and lacking as I do the gift of prescience to see if each man here shall contribute equally, one thing I do know for certain is that I am a gentleman, and it is the custom of this realm that gentlemen be paid in guineas. Thusly, presuming you are a man of this realm and familiar with it's customs, I take it that when you say 'fifteen hundred per key and two thousand for the plans' that you mean 'fifteen hundred guineas per key an two thousand guineas for the plans'. Correct?"

Arthur could only hope the mere extra shilling on the pound would not test his host's purse or patience too far, though it was his guess that Mr. Brookes' predicament meant he would not deny Arthur and his would be colleagues the paltry bonus.

Sly devil, that one. Perhaps I can lend my voice on this issue.

Jacob pauses to consider the room before speaking. After seeing that no one is moving or speaking he thinks, The "gentleman" seems to have choked on his words. I suppose that I will now have to speak into this.

Jacob stepped clear of those between him and Brookes. Using his skill he speaks, I do believe that our esteemed associate has a point. Would you not agree Mr. Brookes?

Brookes smiles at the two men. "Course I'd not want to gull or gammon my mates. I kin scrape a few shillings together and pay you in guineas.

Upon hearing Brookes' reply, Jacob smiles knowing that he can now begin to negotiate in earnest.

Looking around the room he says, At this point I assume that if you are still here, you are interested. If for some reason, I am mistaken please take your leave.

He waits a few moments to see who, if anyone, is interested in leaving. Then, turning to Brookes, he continues, I do hope sir that what I said is in keeping with your desires.

Let him think that he is still in charge here.

When we succeed at acquiring these keys and, I'd wager, the plans as well, what then? I assume help or perhaps additional information in the next phase of your work? He pauses for a moment and then continues. Good. Would you care to discuss the rewards for this second, future phase?

Brookes smiles at the man's offer. "Fer now, I don't need no more bodies fer my pull. I suppose if yah want a split the pogue inta fifteen shares we could. But why bovver? Iffin I can't get ahold of me old crew and you lot impress me I suppose I wern't be opposed to changing things. But no offense gents, I don't know you lot from Adam, what's my interest I ask you. A new crew, wiv no reason not ta blow on me, I doubt it. Lemme see how you lot handle this un and we'll talk Ned old son. Now, you be wanting them addresses? Er' shall we call the whole fing off? For man with no choices Brookes seems a cool customer.

Another thought occurs to him " I suppose I could, after ya finish o course, talk ta a few o' me old mates and let em know if they have some thing they could call you. He twirls the brass head of his cane and munches the last of his chips.

Zen

This man is like ice. I suppose that in his line of work, that is a good thing.

Very well. I suppose that fair is fair.

Did he just threaten that man? I thought we were supposed to be this man's alleis and assistants? This is getting confusing. I ....I certainly hope I'm not getting in over my head here.

Outwardly, Spence only watches the exchange, like some sort of verbal pugelists at work. It was strangely fascinating.

Arthur nodded approvingly, pleased that his brilliant oration had had the desired effect, just as he expected. It also seemed he was correct in assuming that these tasks would lead to more bountiful endeavours in the future. He looked over at the other man who had spoken up following himself.

I'm glad at least one of these men had the presence of mind to follow my lead.

Arthur was ofcourse completely oblivious to the fact that his little speech was perhaps too 'brilliant' for his own good and that, amongst his present company especially, exclaimation on his status as a gentleman, did naught but to cause Mr. Brookes, and perhaps others, to consider him little more than a 'poncing toff', harmless as that may be.

"The addresses, then? The Celestial doesn't seem much interested in haggling over prices, negotiating secondary jobs, or any of the rest.

Bismarck laughs at Martin when he fires back the reply about his voice and gasmask. His own reply is cut short by Arthur's quick apology.

German: "No apology needed, friend..."

No need for violence and anger... yet.

When Brookes comes in, Bismarck quietly watches the exchange, not really having anything to add, until he thinks of something fairly pertinent. He clears his throat and steps forward, the back of his neck hissing out steam as he walks.

"Theres no doubt going to be glocks keeping the keys... Are we to kill them?"

Martin looks others and his voice is clear and sharp "Count me in"

All these questions ... perhaps I was a bit hasty in giving my assent. No turning back now though.... oh dear.

Brookes smiles as the men begin agreeing to take the job. "Right then gents. The addresses are. For the first key, Number 25 Baker Street. The Molson residence. Second 2001 West Chantry Lane, over by the Palace. The Johannsenns. Third the Regency Warehouse on Charles St. The key is in the office stong box. And the plans I want are in the White Star Lines office downtown. They should be in the plan room, labeled The African Star.

He looks over at Bismarck and sighs "Killing 'll bring the crushers in to this faster than you can say 'Bob's yer uncle' Specially the Johannsenn's, I suppose if yah have to, yah can. But I'd prefer you keep it tight like. He frowns a bit.

He twirls the head of his cane again "Now gents I know I ain't really offering yah a lot of pogue to do this, but you can pinch anything else in them places, it'll look more like random cracking and less like jest the keys was the target. I do know fer instance that the warehouse and the Star Line office 'll have four 'er five grand afore payday. So that might help out wif any fing you need."

He waits a beat. "Any other questions chaps?"

The elf clears his throat softly from his corner, "When and where, exactly, are we to exchange the keys to you for our payment?"

I suggest that we exchange names and contact information and then divide up the tasks to be done.

Even criminals should be well organized.

Brookes snaps his fingers and nods "Righto mate, you lot can find me down at the Haymarket. The Old Cock Inn. In or before three weeks from taday. Ask fer Jim at the desk, I'll be around the place in a few. How you lot split up the jobs is up ta you. Any thing else you chaps need from me?"

As discussion turns from money to details of the job, Arthur takes out a note pad and pencil and begins writing.

nosloM .tS Rekab 52
snnesnnahoJ (ecalap yb) .nL yrtnahC Tsew 1002
...

Arthur continues to jot down any relevant information, as it comes up, before asking a question of his own.

"What else do you know about these locations, and the people we are likely to encounter there in?"

"Well lesse, the Molsons ain't flush but they seem ta do a'right. I've seen six folks in that house. John Molson, works fer the White Star line and has one key, Before you ask no I don't know where he keeps it. Sorry. Blame Dursley, he went inta the steel afore we could figure that out. The Johansenns are a posh bunch. They've got a "polite street" and it wern't easy getting a crow or two down there. I'd say theres oh, five people in there. But I ain't sure. Old Man Johansenn gots key numbers two. I fink it's in 'is desk then, again 'e might 'ave a safe or strongbox. But it's in his office I know that. I never did get a the warehouse 'er office. Dursley got pinched afore any o that was done. Sorry I can't be a' more help lads."

Before mr Brookes leaves Martin wants to know more Those keys, how we find those, is there anyting how we indentify those among other keys "Am I missing something? Could we go back to the those keys mr Brookes?" Martin nods and continues "So we have all the adresses we need, but is there something else we should know about these keys? Description, labels or something. I guess that within those adress there must be lot of keys, which ones we bring along or shall we carry all the keys we find?"
...he sighs ...
And then to these places. If we investigate those places and found that there is no way of getting in or obtaining these keys without some special equipment...

He pauses and looks at Brookes when continues Equipment, is there something we need "If there is somekind of special equipment to accomplish this task of your, can we trust that you get that equipment to us, if that is possible. Maybe we dont need anything but if there is something we need. And last thing, this money you are offerin, thats fine with me."

Brookes glances at St. North "Blimey, almost fergot. Thanks fer remembering mate, they'll be new brass keys, shiny and clean, etched wiv the White Star Lines logo. As fer equipment. I don't fink you'll be needing any more 'n what you got. Iffin a'course yah need anyfin special come down at the Old Cock. I've got me an arangement with an eel-skinner. He'll want 'a be paid a'course but I kin get yah a discount. Now chaps, do yah need anyfing else at all afore I'm off? I've gotta get me some shut eye so's I kin start up tommory.

The Hand makes no arguments, and certainly no motions, towards keeping Brookes from leaving. He's apparently satisfied with the information they've got.

Arthur checked over his notes...

So little information...

...and then looked up at Mr. Brookes.

"If that's all the information you have for us, I think we are ready to proceed?"

Arthur closed his notebook, but waited to see if anyone else had any questions before putting it back in his coat.

Martin stands up and he walks to the door with mr.Brookes, he glances his pocketwatch casually Do we need more information, yes but what that info is? Is there something we did not ask or we didn't demand from this cove? Some of this cash in advance Martin smiles, or some could say grins and he stops

Mr. Brookes! little pause and then Martin continues I think that we need some kind of prepayment, I'm sure that my partners will agree that too. So if you don't be offended we could continue this meeting.

Brookes nods at St. North "I kin give you lot the last of my bankroll, but I'm afraid it's only three hundred pounds."

"That sounds reasonable for now"
Martin nods and then he continues with little bit lower voice "How about some other arrangement between you and me, after this one? I may need some special ammunition for my hmmm.. my hunting rifle can you find and deliver that kind goods?" He smiles slightly.

How could I have been so dim to forget to ask for a retainer fee. Perhaps you don't notice how much the light has gone while holding a candle for the devil.

Jacob waits for the conversation with Brookes to end and for the cove to leave.

Shall we spend a moment more here to divide up the work?

The Bull and Bear. 7:20PM June 15th, 1870 AD

Finally after agreeing to talk to the eel-skinner for St. North, and leaving three hundred pounds in twenty pound notes on the table, Thomas Brookes left the rear room. The men sat at the low table and fell to talking about this job. Perhaps not as lucrative as some of them would prefer, but these were the times they lived in.

Coughing to clear his throat and for once, draw some attention to himself, Spence steadies him self and speaks up.

I believe, gentlemen, that prior to allocating our resources to the tasks at hand, we should famliarize ourselves with the nature of those assets.

I thikn it prudent to take the time to ascertain our strengths and weaknesses, get to know each other as it were, and see how our individual strengths can form a cohesive whole to confront our task with.

Now standing, Spence looks around at the men at the table. Realizing that he's fallen back into his habit of using as many pretentious sounding words as possible when he gets nervous, he wonders if he's overstepped his bounds.

Don't get skittish now Spencer. You've already come so far. Strong front now old boy. Stand straight and tall.
Spence looks down a the men, with the best poker face he can manage on.

You may call me 'Spence'. I am in expert in the matters of Arcanum, the matters of Spirits, Enchantments, and the Netherrealms. How do you do?

He tips his hat and bows to the men at the table.