He was dreaming. He knew right away. The sun was bright, the air mountain fresh, the spring water tasted pure. The elf was standing in the midst of a grassy field. The temperature was mild, the breeze billowed by at intervals guided by fate or perfection. He placed his right hand on the side of his face and found his scar was no longer there.

Ahead of him he saw beauty. At least in his eyes. She smiled at him, a smile that said "I love you." He thought for a moment. Thought about all of the things he was fortunate to have, but usually took for granted.

"Papa."

Tyler looked down before dropping to one knee and lowering his head. A young female elf, no more then 5 years old, reached up and crowned like a king him with a reef made of green leaves tied together by simple white string. In return he picked up the princess into his arms and tossed her into the air twice. His queen gazed at them with joy....

The next thing he knew, he was looking into the sun and that was the end....


Tyler snapped back into the 6th world. The first sense that enveloped him was the smell of the acidic rain drowning out the Washington DC area. Oxygen emitted by the nearby vegetation became polluted with a stale smog upon immediate release. All he could hear were imaginary footsteps all around him because of the paranoia he had developed during his training as a officer of the Tir.

The dwarf was preoccupied. Yes. He would be simply known as the dwarf. He straddled himself back onto the motorcycle. In one of the compartments within the machine, he took out a dosage of his chosen narcotic. Without hesitation he brought out a small tray and placed it on the bridge of the bike. Moments later he 'snorted' the substance through his nose. An archaic means to administer a drug, but Tyler prided himself in being old fashioned. The Novacoke fueled his adrenaline. After a day like this, it's just what the doctor ordered.

The rain pattered off into gray haze as the morning came.

The first ones to turn off their lights was the unit 1, and then by unit 2. Unit 4's lights were on until 1AM.

Toreador's Spirit noted that Dr. Karkoff paced for a while before going back to the more serious drinking business. He actually passed out at midnight and woke up at 1.05 AM and then went to bed turning off his lights.

It's 7.30 AM and the sun would be rising if it weren't for the heavy cloudcover. The stuffer shack's soy and egg was terrible and the seat was starting to create sores in your back sides from too much sitting and not enough moving.

The first remodeling group are just arriving. Two ork's with green skin and a bodies a bear would be proud of park their bight red van which prominently displays them as brothers Neil and Simon, redecorators. Already five minutes in they have unloaded cabinet units from the back of the van in their shiny plastic coverings. The two brothers are leaning against the side of the building with mugs in hand and cigarettes in their lips.

The professor got back a message from Zoltan.
<<Well this is not data per se. I'll come drop off the things and you can have a look at it then.>>

<< Alright, Zoltan, I'll see you then. Now you have me curious. >>

" My fixer has some goods for me, and I will meet up with him at noon. What should we do about the work team at the condo now? It looks as if they have cabinets to install, which could take a while. Any suggestions?

"For example, shall we go away to Toreador's safehouse and come back as electricians with some false work order? If we start appearing in a mixed-group, legitimate situation, then later we can show up by ourselves and seem normal to the neighbourhood. Now that these guys are here, I don't think we can redirect them without being found out pretty soon.

"Alternatively, if it serves our purpose, I could be invisible and sneak in during the noise of furniture schlepping and maybe glean what these guys plan to do today."

The usual place is a nice italian restaurant within sight of the Smithsonian. The lunch crowd has filling the restaurant for a while now. Luckily Zoltan has reserved you a table. The shrimp salad was quite nice with feta and assorted cheeses.

Zoltan is a man who announces his presence by simply walking in through the door. His flaming red beard strangely clashes and loses with his pinstriped dark gray silk suit and gold pocket watch. He wears a deep black velvet kippah.

Behind him is neat looking ork, who looks like some kind of green olympic fishman, that had swam ashore clubbed a man in a suit and borrowed his sunglasses. He is carrying two large cases.

"Mr. Professor!" He rushes to the Professor grabs him up, kisses him on both cheeks and bear hugs him. "It is so good to see you again. Please introduce me to the rest of your acquaintances." He sets the Professor down, who looks a bit mottled from the affection. He claps his hands and a waiter comes over and helps him into the chair.

The ork settles in a nearby table where a family of two was enjoying their meal before the unannounced table guest of a half ork, half cold fish joined them.

"In the words Rabbi Isaac Klein's, a Jew ought to cover his head when in the synagogue, at prayer or sacred study, or when eating. Two bottles of fine red wine for me and my new friends." He puts on a pair of glasses and looks at the menu. "Now what would you like to order?"

Two glasses and an order of lamb later, Zoltan lights his cigar, "Now I really should thank you Mr Professor for saving me from my mamushka. She is a wonderful person but she has all these ideas from the old country about how a man should be married. I like life far too much!" He winks at Cruze with a two eyed wink.

The waiter comes to leave a cup of espresso for Zoltan. "About the matter, I quite need your expertise. Can these people be trusted? Good, good. A friend of a friend of mine left this in my care and I am at a bit of a loss as to what to do with it. Perhaps you would have a better idea about its origins my friend." He leans over and looks at the ork who brings over the cases and sets them beside the table and hands Zoltan a plastic bag. He puts his hand inside and pulls out something wooden. "I hear it is quite valuable."

It is a small wooden cabinet about the size of both hands framed by an onion dome shape on the top, once opened it reveals the icon image of the Virgin Mary holding a baby Jesus and two people with wound hair and wings on each side of the leaves. The silver work on the triptych is heavy and heavily stained black. The images are equally heavily worn dark with age. On the obverse is the following incised in silver.

Zoltan looks at Cruze. "I am afraid our mutual friend here is a bit more interested in older objects d'art. However, I like mine more of full of life than sequestered away on some Greek Monastery. You see I am in a bit of a bind I am supposed to take my mother out to the opera tonight, and if I said no she would never let me hear the end of it, and well she has this thought that I would be interested in bringing one of her friend's nieces. So what do you say, interested in going out for the evening?"

He holds up his hand. "Do not worry Professor I would never impinge on a lady's honor." He turns back to Cruze "And I'll make sure you get home in time for a busy workday tomorrow. What do you say?"

The Prof had been right, there was absolutely no way to prevent the hirsute giant from crushing the academic in a vice-like hug.

The two RFID sensors on the Prof's lapel instantly stuck to their visitors suit. Or was that his beard? It was hard to tell from the feed, maybe when he turned his head...

She answered the man's request by introducing herself.

For the time being you can call me Cruze. I'm...

she paused for a moment angling for a interesting turn of phrase.

... multi-talented. For the time being I am an intrusion and surveillance specialist.

She leaned forward and placed a small tri-d display on the table as she spoke. The feed from the two bugs she had slipped onto Zoltan caused an odd stereo effect as she uttered the words surveillance specialist.

She leaned in close to the older man and whispered in his ear as she deftly plucked the two devices from his clothing.

New toys, I must apologize, I couldn't resist when the Prof told me how.... ....tactile you are..

For the rest of the meal she remained as much in the background as her nature allowed but when asked on a date she could not help but cause more trouble.

Why sir, it would be my distinct pleasure to accompany you and meet your, no doubt redoubtable, mother. I have matters to attend to first and I simply have nothing to wear, so I must shop. What time shall I expect your chariot?

Zoltan laughed and clapped his hands, he mopped his brow a bit with a silken handkerchief. He gave the Professor a slap on the shoulder. "My, you find the most amusing of friends." He laughs, "Good, good."

"My dear lady, I will send you not only my chariot, but my horse and my squire. How does twenty of your Washington hours sound to you?"

That should be adequate time to make myself presentable.

The delicious meal served wonderfully to expand Professor's crushed ribs to their normal state. As was often the case, being around Zoltan was a mixed blessing. Zoltan's exuberance and expansiveness tended to press on Professor's sense of private space, but how could one not like someone so full of life?

During the meal, Professor was quiet, and allowed the others to carry the bulk of the conversation, but the appearance of the triptych cabinet, however, sparked Professor immediately. Puzzles, mixed with old things, always affected him that way.

"Such items are common to Eastern Orthodox Christianity, and I must say this is a particularly lovely example. I will have to study this item for a while to give it the attention it deserves. I'm afraid I don't know the ancient Greek, and so will have to take some time to translate the text on the back."

Professor opens his perceptions to the astral to see if any emotional traces are left on the artwork, and of course to see if on the off-chance there is anything magical about it.

Asssensing:


While Assensing, he purposefully does NOT look to see how Cruze and Zoltan are feeling at the moment.

The interplay between Zoltan and Cruze is amusing. "Does she know what she is in for? I know his mother!"

Zoltan takes a sip of his wine. "I will see what I can tell about the triptych this afternoon, and I can send it with Cruze back to you this evening, Zoltan. Will that be satisfactory?"

Professor:


Zoltan smiled expansively "I trust you my friend. I look forward in hearing your opinions. Please do keep it safe." His commlink starts ringing. "Now if you will excuse me I have another meeting to go to. The banalities of the life I lead." Zoltan finishes his espresso and gets up, his commlink squares away the bill.

"And you my dear lady I hope to see you tonight."

His half-ork, half fish associate raised itself from the now vacated table. He looked at Cruze and the Professor for a moment before focusing his attention on the ample back of Zoltan. "Yes. Hello? Alex! Delightful to hear you. Yes. Yes."

Jessica, Jessica, it's me Liz.

Hey babe how's it going? Yes, mmm, yes, uhu, no, he didn't, outrageous, uhu, no, really, radical, uhu, uhu....

You know that Zoe Moonlight number you wore to the Ambassador's do last month? Yes the evening gown, yes, the black one, yes.

Do you think I might borrow it? I have a date. The opera. Tonight. Yes, yes, thanks babe. Love ya. Sure, sure, later then babe, bye, bye.

The advantages of living with air-head socialites. Jenny's Papa owned the apartment so nobody really bothered when the rent was due and Jessica always had something she was never going to wear again.

It was an hour after lunch and she and the boys were just walking up to the front door of the vacant unit. She planned to rewire all the lighting and use the cable runs for that to piggy-back the fibre for all the bugs she had just acquired.

Her hair was tied back in a business-like pony tail and her jumpsuits adaptive surface displayed all the appropriate logos for the job at hand.

The two big ork men are still at the unit. They finished removing the old kitchen units and are now replacing them with the new ones. Unlike most contractors in the private market who are usually paid by the hour. These two work efficiently and carefully.

The only other addition has been a carpenter/painter who is joking with the two ork men while replacing the door frame. There are noticeably several paint cans in the living room. "Looks like we got a new contractor.." He wipes his hand on his smock and offers to Cruze. "The name's Larry. These two are Moe and Curly."

"Oh ha-ha." Said one of the orks as he held a shelving unit against the wall, while the other secured it. "Unlike some of us, we have more things to do in life than chat up every girl who walked into the workplace. Besides we have another job across town in the afternoon. The name's Simon, that's my idiot brother Neil with a mouthful of steel and the power tool."

She laughed lightly at the Stooges by-play before introducing herself.

Afternoon boys, I'm Jane, I'm a spark and I'll be doing some re-wiring and fitting lights according to this work order.

Is the kettle on?

"Well, the cooking unit is still in the back of the truck, this old one is going to be chucked" said Simon. He kicked the old one with his boot, giving that clang of steel clad boot lightly hitting tin and steel.

"Watch it!" said Neil as he put the power tool in his belt and held the shelving unit in place. They both help and support each other. "Besides wouldn't trust the electrics. Looks like someone has been using a copper wire and matchsticks for plugs."

"Oh well back to work for me. If you need anything I can be found in the living room, and yes the name is Larry." Larry was an almost human looking elf with white skin and classical greco-roman features. His eyes were bright green and his hair while short was a neat mess of yellow curls. Like most elves he could be anywhere from 20 to 40. The crows feet at the edge of his eyes imply more 40 than 20.

She peered dubiously at the wiring that Neil had pointed out.

This could be a bigger job than I thought. That stuff is positively Fifth World.

I'll get one of my boys to bring in an electric kettle and we'll have this wiring upgraded before you can say Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis.

I'm going be stuck here until late I think. And I've got a hot date tonight.

Buffons He thought to himself.

The video and audio displays of the stooges filtered into his Fairlight Caliban commlink. Tyler merely shook his head as he rode his motorcycle down route 66 towards Arlington from Fairfax. Adorned in a kevlar lined ebony combat biker suite and a matching dark visor helmet, the Tir elf raced down the commuter highway which served as a direct path from DC to Northern Virgina.

<<Into the groups commlink channel "The painter is a disgrace to elves. His display of bungling and comradery with these orks leads me to the conclusion that he was probably born in a gutter ally some place in Baltimore. Listening to this demonstration of tom-foolery by this man is making my skin crawl with hives. It's good that I did not come along with you Cruze, otherwise I would have been forced to melt his brain with a mere thought.">>

The augmented reality video node of what Cruze and others saw was still apparent inside of his darkned perspective behind the visor helmet. Tyler could easily see what was going on as the greenish ligh projected everything, using his the inner shield of the helmet like a movie screen. A green arrow appeared in the upper left hand corner of his commlink node, signaling this was the exit for Arlington Avenue, his exit.

Merging left, the acceleration of his motorcycle came to life once again, as he cut of a Nissan Jackrabbit. He promptly gave the driver and passengers inside that car the finger after cutting them off.

<<Everyone>>
<<Heheh... you're one of THOSE elves, huh? Listen here, omae. Some o' us didn't get the chance to pick and choose our neighbors, and it's a whole hell of a lot easier to live day to day if you can get along with them. Everyone, and I could replace Larry easily enough, but the other two are out of the question without some time for prepwork.>>

The wiring was old. The data cabling was old. Luckily replacement was possible. The fuse box with post-modern aged cabling would be the first thing to go. A quick check revealed that it was dead, probably turned off from the street.

Most of the second floor was ripped open revealing support columns and bundles of grey flat wires. The large windows were covered in thick plastic sheeting as is most of the floor. The attic though lead to an interesting place.

The thin plyboard walls meant that you could travel between all four units with a little careful prying and avoiding the fiber glass insulation between.

When Cruze comes down into the foyer, Larry is busy working in the living room, doing sketches for a plaster ceiling medallion, and measuring the blue prints to do an updated sketch. Neil and Simon can be heard in the kitchen replacing the cooking unit. What is unusual is that Larry is working with draftsman paper and pencil. Not something you see everyday as everyone uses somekind of AR assistant for even the most mundane of tasks.

<<@Toreador, Enrypted>> Cut the supremacist drek and get your astral bod in here pronto.

Come in through the roof and don't risk being 'seen'.

This Elf is setting off my Spidey-sense like a mother-frakker.

She armed two of her aerosol grenades with a mental flick of a DNI interface and linked one of them to her bio-monitor, the other sat innocuously in the middle of the room in her open toolbox.

Wow old timer is that really pencil and paper? You some sort of spike-baby or what?

Her tone was jovial and she playfully elbowed the older Elf as she walked past him towards the two Orks.

Will you two boys be here tomorrow? Looks like I will be, this whole place needs re-wired from top to bottom.

Professor is watching the proceedings (invisibly) and for the hell of it pokes into the astral to see if anything in the 'outpost' shows. He keeps his AGI up to make sure he doesn't bump into anything and give himself away.

"Pencil and paper, huh? I wonder why? Maybe I'll check him out astrally. A Luddite of sorts? Hmmm... another team casing the joint?"

Hmm. The man's anti-technological manifesto impresses me... He thought to himself.

<<@Cruze, Re: Encrypted>> "Don't tell me this little parasite startles you. Nonetheless I am almost at the safehouse and shall be there shortly."

<<@Toreador, Encrypted>>Rule One: Take nothing for granted or at face value.

An archaic song from the late 20th century entitled "Plush" fills his ears as he continues to ride towards the safehouse in Fairfax.

<<@Cruze, RE:>>"What you speak is the antithesis of what the Cat represents. For what is life without a little vanity, tenor, and bon vivant?"

[OOC - I assume this encrypted exchange is for the ears of Cruze and Toreador only?]

(Post continued from above, edited, and additions were made after checking with GM that there are no threats around the safehouse.)

An archaic song from the late 20th century entitled "Plush" fills his ears as he continues to ride towards the safehouse in Fairfax.

<<@Cruze, RE:>>"What you speak is the antithesis of what the Cat represents. For what is life without a little vanity, tenor, and bon vivant?"

<<To everyone:>>"Toreador en route to the safehouse. Until I arrive the Dwarf should be able to provide magical reconnaissance until I arrive via astral, that is unless he is busy trimming his chest hairs."

The motor bike entered the housing complex in which their safe haven was located. Toreador snapped his fingers, an instant later his watcher spirit appeared before him. The spirit took the form of a cloud like form with small eyes. The spirit reported no astrally activity around the safe house area while he was gone. He then lit a cigarette, using the action as a masking for him to survey the area for any potential threats. Satisfied, he put the cigarette out before entering the home.

<<"I'm here, and observing. Actually, Toreador, a young lady I met a while ago takes care of that for me. Appropriately, she works not far from the National Museum of Women in the Arts.">>

<<Audio Commlink to everyone:>> "The young woman must be a masochist or has been coerced into this form of cruel and unusual punishment.>>

A sardonic smile creased his lips after making the comment, as he made his to the basement of the safehouse. He instructed his watcher spirits to continue to stand guard around the perimeter before letting his meat body slump. The astral world immediately came alive to him, as a tunnel of purple aura beckoned towards his direction. He could hear a strange wave sound, similar to what you would hear when seeing a portal open in a science fiction based sim sense BTL chip.

Tyler closed his eyes and imagined the apartment units in which Karkoff resided. Since the distance was very short, he arrived in a literal second, as if he had a teleported. An urge of defiance came over him when Cruze almost ordered him to enter through the roof, being cautious in the process. But he followed her suggestions, because frankly it was good one.

He spotted the unit in which Cruze, the Stooges, and the others were working in. He entered horizontally from above. He saw Cruze and the orks fairly easily. He even saw the Dwarf with the invisibility spell cast on him. Upon seeing the Dwarf, Tyler promptly picked his nose once again for old times sake.

It took a moment, but Tyler finally spotted the one he thought was Larry. Closing his eyes he attempted to assess the painter.

{{ Your sleeve must be getting pretty messy, what with all that nose picking, Toreador. }}

Larry's mind swirled in as gem-like greens and blues of someone who is in the peak of health, patient and outgoing. There were no cyberware nor the marks addiction. He looks behind him and up at Tyler, but then walks out of the room shaking his head. Did he see Tyler?

Professor follows discreetly and makes an Assensing Test on Larry.