Posting Rules
Just like almost everyone else on the board I'm using Redjack's posting structure.
All your posts should begin with a time/date stamp in orange, detailing location, time, and date. Underneath, in italics, add your PAN mode, hidden, active, or passive, in dark grey.
- - "Speech color=cyan or light blue, optionally enclosed in quotes" (note: Quotes very recommended!)
- - <Coms (subvocal) color=violet>
- - <Coms (Text) color=yellow or orange>
- - Thoughts color=darkkhaki and in italics
- - Memories, flashbacks, dreams color=green and in italics
Full Version: IC: African Righteousness
"Don't you suppose that there will be immensely skilled people who just want to work for money?" opined Eyez. Ghoster took a sip of his palm wine savoring the complex tastes. "I still can't believe used to drink synth-a-hol instead of this. Yeah, the thought crossed my mind, but yet, here we are. Like there is an extreme appeal for these people" tapping the paper dossier in front of him "to help others, to stop suffering and to extinguish worldly abuses."
"I doubt it. Every person we've recruitment never really bought our 'holy' mission." Eyez replied. "If I had my choice, I would stick my head in that whiz-bang contraption to pass on my skills to the loyal amongst us. In today's world, shared belief only comes in the almighty Nuyen."
Ghoster had heard this objection before and sighed. "Yes, I certainly understand the point. But unless you can swing around every piece of weaponry known to metahumanity, we're going to need someone else. End of story."
Ghoster polished of the rest of his drink and beckoned his associates at an adjoining table. Standing up, Ghoster jokingly chided Eyez, "Now remember, I still expect you to make contact with Kano and get him interested. I don't want your feelings scaring him off. That's my job!" Eyez smirked, "Thank goodness I can pass the buck to you!"
"I doubt it. Every person we've recruitment never really bought our 'holy' mission." Eyez replied. "If I had my choice, I would stick my head in that whiz-bang contraption to pass on my skills to the loyal amongst us. In today's world, shared belief only comes in the almighty Nuyen."
Ghoster had heard this objection before and sighed. "Yes, I certainly understand the point. But unless you can swing around every piece of weaponry known to metahumanity, we're going to need someone else. End of story."
Ghoster polished of the rest of his drink and beckoned his associates at an adjoining table. Standing up, Ghoster jokingly chided Eyez, "Now remember, I still expect you to make contact with Kano and get him interested. I don't want your feelings scaring him off. That's my job!" Eyez smirked, "Thank goodness I can pass the buck to you!"
Sometime in 2072, Oshodi-Isolo District, the hell-hole called Lagos.
(PAN: hidden)
Yazata ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair. They came away dripping with sweat. He had survived the most pernicious deserts, yet this humid pit drew water out of him like nothing else ever had. For the thousandth time he wondered why he stayed here.
"I too question your wisdom, Angelic One. Your place is not here. You belong in a palace, where one of power is recognized and rewarded for his talent."
"Spare me the lectures, will you. I summoned and bound you to my service, not to annoy me incessantly with your temptations. My quest has led me here. This is where I serve it, till I know where next to go."
Yazata opened his refrigerator and took out another bottled water. The electricity had been good the last few days. Everything was still edible. He looked out the window and studied the night lights of the Amulet Market through the plasteel bars. Like so much of this city, the Market never slept. He would soon need some work. Money was running short, and he was running out of binding materials. Well, there was always something in this city that needed a little righteous attitude adjustment. The trick was to get paid for it.
He laid out the materials he needed for the ritual. The Lodge was cleansed and ready. A long night awaited Yazata, but this time, he hoped the Invoking would take well. "Prepare, Guardian. Tonight, I make you a Great One of your kind."
"All the better to serve you, Master." Was that a smirk somewhere in the spirit's voice?
(PAN: hidden)
Yazata ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair. They came away dripping with sweat. He had survived the most pernicious deserts, yet this humid pit drew water out of him like nothing else ever had. For the thousandth time he wondered why he stayed here.
"I too question your wisdom, Angelic One. Your place is not here. You belong in a palace, where one of power is recognized and rewarded for his talent."
"Spare me the lectures, will you. I summoned and bound you to my service, not to annoy me incessantly with your temptations. My quest has led me here. This is where I serve it, till I know where next to go."
Yazata opened his refrigerator and took out another bottled water. The electricity had been good the last few days. Everything was still edible. He looked out the window and studied the night lights of the Amulet Market through the plasteel bars. Like so much of this city, the Market never slept. He would soon need some work. Money was running short, and he was running out of binding materials. Well, there was always something in this city that needed a little righteous attitude adjustment. The trick was to get paid for it.
He laid out the materials he needed for the ritual. The Lodge was cleansed and ready. A long night awaited Yazata, but this time, he hoped the Invoking would take well. "Prepare, Guardian. Tonight, I make you a Great One of your kind."
"All the better to serve you, Master." Was that a smirk somewhere in the spirit's voice?
Caring the medicines from the car, Ghoster ambled in to the Sisters' clinic. Faces were friendlier than a month ago. When Ghoster started the medicine donation program, he was met with much skepticism and suspicion. If it hadn't been for the female spirit the Elders assigned to him, he would probably getting treatments for combat scars.
Since then, Ghoster slowly began inquiring who were the allies and enemies of the Sisterhood. Besides the frightened housewives and children, there weren't many who supported the order. The Sisterhood's form of justice of absolute retribution made many enemies. However, there were some. Local shamans, neighborhood communities, tribal business associations had all established good ties. Today, Ghoster looked for one in particular.
Spotting him in the treatment room, Ghoster opened his mind to the astral. Sure enough, the man in ill-fitted clothing was not a man at all. Ghoster returned to his normal view of the world and walked over to him.
"Mr. Afrika, I presume? My name is Nicholas Burrows, or Ghoster. I need your help. Several of my friends are being abducted before I can help them move out of the city. They are families and new immigrants from other parts of Africa. I am helping to relocate them before the city corrupts them and forces them to turn into criminals to survive. Would you be willing to help us?"
Since then, Ghoster slowly began inquiring who were the allies and enemies of the Sisterhood. Besides the frightened housewives and children, there weren't many who supported the order. The Sisterhood's form of justice of absolute retribution made many enemies. However, there were some. Local shamans, neighborhood communities, tribal business associations had all established good ties. Today, Ghoster looked for one in particular.
Spotting him in the treatment room, Ghoster opened his mind to the astral. Sure enough, the man in ill-fitted clothing was not a man at all. Ghoster returned to his normal view of the world and walked over to him.
"Mr. Afrika, I presume? My name is Nicholas Burrows, or Ghoster. I need your help. Several of my friends are being abducted before I can help them move out of the city. They are families and new immigrants from other parts of Africa. I am helping to relocate them before the city corrupts them and forces them to turn into criminals to survive. Would you be willing to help us?"
2 February 2072, Oshodi-Isolo District
A spirit kept himself cloaked and observed. From the looks of it, the man and spirit were preparing for a ritual. The spirit's message would have to wait until their ritual was done.
A spirit kept himself cloaked and observed. From the looks of it, the man and spirit were preparing for a ritual. The spirit's message would have to wait until their ritual was done.
Night Time, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
(PAN: Hidden)
The first thing to notice about the room was the smell; something, or more likely, someone, had died in the room. They had also vomited on the floor and shit themselves. The door frame was cracked and part of the top was missing. The door itself didn't even fit in the frame properly, but there was a massive dead bolt on the inside that held the door shut and should keep all but the most persistent intruders out. The bed was a joke. A mattress with a mysterious brown stain in the middle sat on the floor surrounded by the splintered and rotting remains of the bed frame. There was a window with and incredible view of the brick wall next door. The ceiling and floor both had deep gouges; a brave, solitary, light bulb hung from the ceiling. The refrigerator had a massive dent in the freezer door, which hung open, melted ice dripping down the front and staining the already damaged wood floor. A thick black mold grew around the drains in both the makeshift kitchen and in the bathroom, never mind what the toilet looked like. The cabinets had no doors, the shower didn't even have a curtain and there were no chairs, just a steel crate set up in front of a very old looking trid set. There wasn't even a proper closet, just a close line with a few hangers that looked worse for wear. Kano surveyed the room as he tested the creaky floor and set down his duffel bag.
This is the problem with renting to trolls. The thought made the corners of Kano's mouth turn up ever so slightly. He shut the door behind him as best he could and locked the bolt. He was tired. First, there was the ever so exciting landing at Mohammed International Airport, just as the fuel reserves bottomed out on final approach, some drekhead in a shiny new Gulfstream had nearly clipped them as he careened past. After scraping the paint off the nose of the Gulfstream with the Skytrain's tail, Duster had brought the plane skipping to a halt in the swamp just past the tarmac. The local "emergency" crew had been kind enough not to shoot them and it had cost Kano quite a bit of his remaining nuyen to arrange for a tow and fuel for the Skytrain. Kano left Duster to supervise his aircraft and after bribing one of the guard patrols and retrieving his "baggage", Kano found the nearest Hawala and exchanged the rest of his nuyen for a voucher and a pocket full of naira.
After all that, waving down a ride had been relatively easy. The danfo looked terrible and the smoke was nauseating but the roof was missing and that allowed enough space for Kano and his bag, but that was it and the driver was none to pleased. At least until Kano dropped 300 naira in his lap and told him to drive to Victoria Island. They got most of the way there before driving into a firefight between locals and the driver took several rounds to the chest. Not being one to waste money, Kano had retrieved his naira and headed south on foot. Several bribes later he'd found this lovely hotel between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island and they even accommodated trolls.
Some accommodation. Kano checked the fridge first, finding only an empty water bottle and a moldy, half-eaten sandwich inside. Throw them both out, he unplugged the fridge and lay it down sideways in front of the door. Then he hung up his coat and unpacked his equipment, stacking most of it on the metal crate. Taking one last look around the room, decided it was as safe as he could make it for the moment and gingerly lay down on the bed. There was a creak of protest from the floor and the tortured springs but it seemed sound enough.
Damned jet lag. Nothing to do now but get some sleep.
(PAN: Hidden)
The first thing to notice about the room was the smell; something, or more likely, someone, had died in the room. They had also vomited on the floor and shit themselves. The door frame was cracked and part of the top was missing. The door itself didn't even fit in the frame properly, but there was a massive dead bolt on the inside that held the door shut and should keep all but the most persistent intruders out. The bed was a joke. A mattress with a mysterious brown stain in the middle sat on the floor surrounded by the splintered and rotting remains of the bed frame. There was a window with and incredible view of the brick wall next door. The ceiling and floor both had deep gouges; a brave, solitary, light bulb hung from the ceiling. The refrigerator had a massive dent in the freezer door, which hung open, melted ice dripping down the front and staining the already damaged wood floor. A thick black mold grew around the drains in both the makeshift kitchen and in the bathroom, never mind what the toilet looked like. The cabinets had no doors, the shower didn't even have a curtain and there were no chairs, just a steel crate set up in front of a very old looking trid set. There wasn't even a proper closet, just a close line with a few hangers that looked worse for wear. Kano surveyed the room as he tested the creaky floor and set down his duffel bag.
This is the problem with renting to trolls. The thought made the corners of Kano's mouth turn up ever so slightly. He shut the door behind him as best he could and locked the bolt. He was tired. First, there was the ever so exciting landing at Mohammed International Airport, just as the fuel reserves bottomed out on final approach, some drekhead in a shiny new Gulfstream had nearly clipped them as he careened past. After scraping the paint off the nose of the Gulfstream with the Skytrain's tail, Duster had brought the plane skipping to a halt in the swamp just past the tarmac. The local "emergency" crew had been kind enough not to shoot them and it had cost Kano quite a bit of his remaining nuyen to arrange for a tow and fuel for the Skytrain. Kano left Duster to supervise his aircraft and after bribing one of the guard patrols and retrieving his "baggage", Kano found the nearest Hawala and exchanged the rest of his nuyen for a voucher and a pocket full of naira.
After all that, waving down a ride had been relatively easy. The danfo looked terrible and the smoke was nauseating but the roof was missing and that allowed enough space for Kano and his bag, but that was it and the driver was none to pleased. At least until Kano dropped 300 naira in his lap and told him to drive to Victoria Island. They got most of the way there before driving into a firefight between locals and the driver took several rounds to the chest. Not being one to waste money, Kano had retrieved his naira and headed south on foot. Several bribes later he'd found this lovely hotel between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island and they even accommodated trolls.
Some accommodation. Kano checked the fridge first, finding only an empty water bottle and a moldy, half-eaten sandwich inside. Throw them both out, he unplugged the fridge and lay it down sideways in front of the door. Then he hung up his coat and unpacked his equipment, stacking most of it on the metal crate. Taking one last look around the room, decided it was as safe as he could make it for the moment and gingerly lay down on the bed. There was a creak of protest from the floor and the tortured springs but it seemed sound enough.
Damned jet lag. Nothing to do now but get some sleep.
Nighttime, 2 February, 2072 Oshodi-Isolo District, Lagos
(PAN: Hidden)
Yazata calmed, focused and centered himself with holy phrases. The candles burned and the incense tossed wisps of fragrance through the room. He began.
He called the mana and shaped it, mentally wrapping strands of astral luminescence about the form of his bound Guardian spirit1. The spirit was strong willed, and Yazata had to press with all of his own desire and strength of will2. Not enough3. This was becoming a habit these days. The force of the rebounding mana nearly knocked Yazata out4. "How fortunate, Master, that I am already bound to you and you have such resistance to the mana. I am glad you survived ... this time."
"So am I," Yazata responded, and then he saw the astral form of the waiting spirit. "Oh no."
"Fear not, for this one has patiently waited for you to do yourself injury. It only wishes to speak with you."
In a shaky voice, the addled man called to it, "Speak, then." He ached to sleep yet another Drain off.
(PAN: Hidden)
Yazata calmed, focused and centered himself with holy phrases. The candles burned and the incense tossed wisps of fragrance through the room. He began.
He called the mana and shaped it, mentally wrapping strands of astral luminescence about the form of his bound Guardian spirit1. The spirit was strong willed, and Yazata had to press with all of his own desire and strength of will2. Not enough3. This was becoming a habit these days. The force of the rebounding mana nearly knocked Yazata out4. "How fortunate, Master, that I am already bound to you and you have such resistance to the mana. I am glad you survived ... this time."
"So am I," Yazata responded, and then he saw the astral form of the waiting spirit. "Oh no."
"Fear not, for this one has patiently waited for you to do yourself injury. It only wishes to speak with you."
In a shaky voice, the addled man called to it, "Speak, then." He ached to sleep yet another Drain off.
[ Spoiler ]
Dusk, 2 February 2072, Abandoned Warehouse Closet, Surele District, Lagos
(PAN: Hidden)
It's quiet...like usual. Ambalo awoke to the crack of fading light that was the door to his quiet little closet. The day was fading and he could hear the light and distant thrum of the city beyond, smell its burning refuse, its ash and dirt and sweat. He quietly arose and packed up for the night, adjusted his tattered clothes and lined coat from his usual shifting sleep, and donned his latex mask, ready to make for the streets and buildings of Lagos, the city he now called home.
He checked his money pocket. Gotta have to see if Two Star has any work available, not much naira left. At least I got a nice meal that other night. Ambalo starts to slowly rasp a metallic hand on the concrete wall as he ponders the event...
The girl can't be more than 5 and yet there she is, miserably standing near the street, her "man" right at her back in case she tries to run. Ambalo makes to look like he wants to buy the merchandise and gets closer to the pimp, wanting to deal in a nearby alley. As soon as he's in striking distance with few angles to witness it, his tomahawk is in his hand and flying straight through the unsuspecting man's neck. No time to even notice what had killed him. Ambalo gives the girl all the naira the pimp had. "Get out of the neighborhood, tell no one what has happened. Make a new life if you can." As soon as she's gone, he bags up the corpse and makes off like he intends to sell it for parts. He takes his prize back to Surele and butchers the meat, taking his fill and then leaving the rest for whatever denizen of the district happens upon it.
Bet it's all gone by now. There's never a scrap of my kills left when I leave them out here. Probably the other ghouls. Ambalo could smell them even now. Their scent stays in places, although your average human wouldn't notice. Making sure his combat axe and bow were snugly in place on his back and giving the tomahawk on his hip a testing wiggle, he made for the door.
(PAN: Hidden)
It's quiet...like usual. Ambalo awoke to the crack of fading light that was the door to his quiet little closet. The day was fading and he could hear the light and distant thrum of the city beyond, smell its burning refuse, its ash and dirt and sweat. He quietly arose and packed up for the night, adjusted his tattered clothes and lined coat from his usual shifting sleep, and donned his latex mask, ready to make for the streets and buildings of Lagos, the city he now called home.
He checked his money pocket. Gotta have to see if Two Star has any work available, not much naira left. At least I got a nice meal that other night. Ambalo starts to slowly rasp a metallic hand on the concrete wall as he ponders the event...
The girl can't be more than 5 and yet there she is, miserably standing near the street, her "man" right at her back in case she tries to run. Ambalo makes to look like he wants to buy the merchandise and gets closer to the pimp, wanting to deal in a nearby alley. As soon as he's in striking distance with few angles to witness it, his tomahawk is in his hand and flying straight through the unsuspecting man's neck. No time to even notice what had killed him. Ambalo gives the girl all the naira the pimp had. "Get out of the neighborhood, tell no one what has happened. Make a new life if you can." As soon as she's gone, he bags up the corpse and makes off like he intends to sell it for parts. He takes his prize back to Surele and butchers the meat, taking his fill and then leaving the rest for whatever denizen of the district happens upon it.
Bet it's all gone by now. There's never a scrap of my kills left when I leave them out here. Probably the other ghouls. Ambalo could smell them even now. Their scent stays in places, although your average human wouldn't notice. Making sure his combat axe and bow were snugly in place on his back and giving the tomahawk on his hip a testing wiggle, he made for the door.
Evening, 2 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
(PAN: Hidden)
"Well this is no good at all. Goin' to be a hassle to replace when it comes time." Solo slid out from under the Beast, grease and mud streaked across his arms and face. "Right then... The secondary motor coils are good for now, but it'd be a corker if they hold another three thousand miles. Wynona, will you check the ship time on replacement parts? I know we ain't gettin'em here, and I don't wanna try takin' Rover on any long trips."
"All ready done.", she chirped back, "There aren't any after market manufacturers for it, sweetie, but there are a number for the Sororitas. We can buy those, strip the mountings, and machine the old mounts to fit."She was running internal diagnostics and simulations for the new part, info splaying across the screens. Solo stared at the data while wiping the grease off his hands with a shop towel.
"This looks like it might solve the high temps we get from runnin' heavy loads." He called up his account info, staring at the nuyen balance. Sure nuyen wasn't worth much in Lagos, but it was good to have it handy for just such an occassion. While the account window was closing, he walked over to the bay door, feeling the breeze cool the sweat on his face and watching the pink sun slowly starting to set."Go ahead and order'em, princess. Better to have'em here before the weather turns bad."
"Did the Daughters' say anything?" Solo had just come back from taking a group of girls out of Lagos and up north into Bokobaru. Often with what compensation they can give, advice and knowledge are sometimes offered as well.
"Oh, not much. Just yabberin' on about the weather being rubbish.", he replied, starting to pull the bay door down and turn on the perimeter lights. "Said we best be ready for a storm..."
(PAN: Hidden)
"Well this is no good at all. Goin' to be a hassle to replace when it comes time." Solo slid out from under the Beast, grease and mud streaked across his arms and face. "Right then... The secondary motor coils are good for now, but it'd be a corker if they hold another three thousand miles. Wynona, will you check the ship time on replacement parts? I know we ain't gettin'em here, and I don't wanna try takin' Rover on any long trips."
"All ready done.", she chirped back, "There aren't any after market manufacturers for it, sweetie, but there are a number for the Sororitas. We can buy those, strip the mountings, and machine the old mounts to fit."She was running internal diagnostics and simulations for the new part, info splaying across the screens. Solo stared at the data while wiping the grease off his hands with a shop towel.
"This looks like it might solve the high temps we get from runnin' heavy loads." He called up his account info, staring at the nuyen balance. Sure nuyen wasn't worth much in Lagos, but it was good to have it handy for just such an occassion. While the account window was closing, he walked over to the bay door, feeling the breeze cool the sweat on his face and watching the pink sun slowly starting to set."Go ahead and order'em, princess. Better to have'em here before the weather turns bad."
"Did the Daughters' say anything?" Solo had just come back from taking a group of girls out of Lagos and up north into Bokobaru. Often with what compensation they can give, advice and knowledge are sometimes offered as well.
"Oh, not much. Just yabberin' on about the weather being rubbish.", he replied, starting to pull the bay door down and turn on the perimeter lights. "Said we best be ready for a storm..."
Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
The dwarf sniffed the ground and realized the troll went to a block ahead. She stood back up to get her bearing, only to find a spirit standing before her.
"You shall leave the troll alone!" boomed the spirit. The form raised two appendages. One brandished electricity, the other fire.
The dwarf sneered back. "Why don't you help some poor prostitute and leave the troll to me, eh?"
The spirit pointed both appendages at the dwarf. "You were warned!" A jet a lightning and a jet of fire issued forth and struck the dwarf.
"Is that the best you have?!" the dwarf laughed as she crossed both arms in front. Hands blistering, the dwarf charged and connected with the spirit.
===
The noise of the fight echoed across Victoria island.
The dwarf sniffed the ground and realized the troll went to a block ahead. She stood back up to get her bearing, only to find a spirit standing before her.
"You shall leave the troll alone!" boomed the spirit. The form raised two appendages. One brandished electricity, the other fire.
The dwarf sneered back. "Why don't you help some poor prostitute and leave the troll to me, eh?"
The spirit pointed both appendages at the dwarf. "You were warned!" A jet a lightning and a jet of fire issued forth and struck the dwarf.
"Is that the best you have?!" the dwarf laughed as she crossed both arms in front. Hands blistering, the dwarf charged and connected with the spirit.
===
The noise of the fight echoed across Victoria island.
Nighttime, 2 February, 2072 Oshodi-Isolo District, Lagos
If I may, I can help alleviate your fatigue., said the spirit. The spirit raised his hand and casted.
Shaking his head, the spirit straightened itself. "Yazata, my clan know of your great purpose and your good works. We seek your aide with our efforts to bring peace and justice to the people. If you accept, you must contact this man." The spirits produced a card. On the card, it had a comm-code and read:
Ghoster, Fixer, Negotiator, Translator, Public Notary
"Further contact must be made through him. I thank you for your time, and I sincerely wish you will join us."
Nodding to the great form spirit, the speaking spirit departed and dematerialized.
If I may, I can help alleviate your fatigue., said the spirit. The spirit raised his hand and casted.
[ Spoiler ]
Shaking his head, the spirit straightened itself. "Yazata, my clan know of your great purpose and your good works. We seek your aide with our efforts to bring peace and justice to the people. If you accept, you must contact this man." The spirits produced a card. On the card, it had a comm-code and read:
Ghoster, Fixer, Negotiator, Translator, Public Notary
"Further contact must be made through him. I thank you for your time, and I sincerely wish you will join us."
Nodding to the great form spirit, the speaking spirit departed and dematerialized.
Dusk, 2 February 2072, Abandoned Warehouse Closet, Surele District, Lagos
Upon exiting, a little girl comes running up to Ambalo. "Good sir! I saw you and bad man. You beat bad man, helped my friend. Please take this!" She produced a business card. It had the commcode and read: Ghoster, Fixer, Negotiator, Translator, Public Notary.
"He does good work too! Needs same people!" She said enthusiastically. "Must go now! Bye bye!" The girl disappeared around a corner.
Upon exiting, a little girl comes running up to Ambalo. "Good sir! I saw you and bad man. You beat bad man, helped my friend. Please take this!" She produced a business card. It had the commcode and read: Ghoster, Fixer, Negotiator, Translator, Public Notary.
"He does good work too! Needs same people!" She said enthusiastically. "Must go now! Bye bye!" The girl disappeared around a corner.
Nighttime, 2 February, 2072 Oshodi-Isolo District, Lagos
(PAN:Hidden)
"Uhhh... thank you!" Yazata hoped that got through before the spirit departed.
He considered the messages the spirit had brought. Both the obvious one and the hidden, mysterious ones. The obvious one was potentially a job offer, exactly the kind he was looking for. "See, Guardian, there is a reason for me to be here!"
"Apparently so."
"There is no need for you to wait, you may go now." *astral popping noise as it disappears*
The hidden messages were intriguing. Someone knew of him and his work. Who? Even stranger, how did this spirit manage to heal Drain with a spell? Yazata was sure this was impossible. Yet he did feel much better, and not in the way his Resist Pain spell made him feel better. He actually could move and act as if he were barely hurt. Better check this out.
(PAN: active)
<<@Ghoster: I hear work for peace and justice is available. I am interested. Willing to meet. Await particulars.##Yazata>>
(Pan:passive)
Now for some healing sleep. He summons a small watcher, whose Drain would be trivial to handle, and instructs it to warn him of danger (described in his standard speech to these things) and wake him just before it ends its service. One more like that would cover the night.
(PAN:Hidden)
"Uhhh... thank you!" Yazata hoped that got through before the spirit departed.
He considered the messages the spirit had brought. Both the obvious one and the hidden, mysterious ones. The obvious one was potentially a job offer, exactly the kind he was looking for. "See, Guardian, there is a reason for me to be here!"
"Apparently so."
"There is no need for you to wait, you may go now." *astral popping noise as it disappears*
The hidden messages were intriguing. Someone knew of him and his work. Who? Even stranger, how did this spirit manage to heal Drain with a spell? Yazata was sure this was impossible. Yet he did feel much better, and not in the way his Resist Pain spell made him feel better. He actually could move and act as if he were barely hurt. Better check this out.
(PAN: active)
<<@Ghoster: I hear work for peace and justice is available. I am interested. Willing to meet. Await particulars.##Yazata>>
(Pan:passive)
Now for some healing sleep. He summons a small watcher, whose Drain would be trivial to handle, and instructs it to warn him of danger (described in his standard speech to these things) and wake him just before it ends its service. One more like that would cover the night.
2 February 2072, Ifako-ijoha District
Afrika awoke early, Izoduwa had cast the bones the night before and confirmed that today was the day. The portents had been building for a week now, long enough for some hurried preparations to be made. He had tapped the great trees of the sanctuary and collected their life-sap in preparation to bind many spirits to help him with the tasks ahead. Time was short and he had not the time to prepare as well as he would have liked. Still he had the raw materials to adapt if the storm clouds that Izoduwa saw were real.
As the first rays of the sun broke through the canopy of his arboreal retreat he was already well on his way to finishing the rituals of physical and mental enhancement that the ancestors had taught him in the overworld. Six minor shades were bound and each was paid with a fragment of his own spirit to sustain the magics he wrought upon himself. Until the sunlight faded on the last day of this year they would remain in the overworld maintaining the protections he sought from the storm to come.
It wasn't a foolproof plan, should another mage sever the links the magic would be gone and his payment along with it. Still it was better than nothing and a whole lot better than being poked in the eye with a sharpened stick.
The sun was high in the sky when the first case of the day came in. She had been beaten pretty badly and had been hiding in the bush all night. The Daughters had found her and brought her in but it was too late for Magical Triage. Izoduwa bound her wounds and stitched the shallow cuts in her face, only time would tell if they would heal true. She would need several days of bed rest before the Daughters could move her. He didn't ask where they sent women like this, he knew they would never tell a man, even one they trusted, which was for the best, if anyone came looking for the woman he had no answers to give them, even under duress.
It was a long day and Afrika was getting jumpy waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Ghoster showed up and made his pitch it was a relief.
"Mr Ghoster, I have been expecting you. What can I do to help with your problem?"
Afrika awoke early, Izoduwa had cast the bones the night before and confirmed that today was the day. The portents had been building for a week now, long enough for some hurried preparations to be made. He had tapped the great trees of the sanctuary and collected their life-sap in preparation to bind many spirits to help him with the tasks ahead. Time was short and he had not the time to prepare as well as he would have liked. Still he had the raw materials to adapt if the storm clouds that Izoduwa saw were real.
As the first rays of the sun broke through the canopy of his arboreal retreat he was already well on his way to finishing the rituals of physical and mental enhancement that the ancestors had taught him in the overworld. Six minor shades were bound and each was paid with a fragment of his own spirit to sustain the magics he wrought upon himself. Until the sunlight faded on the last day of this year they would remain in the overworld maintaining the protections he sought from the storm to come.
It wasn't a foolproof plan, should another mage sever the links the magic would be gone and his payment along with it. Still it was better than nothing and a whole lot better than being poked in the eye with a sharpened stick.
[ Spoiler ]
The sun was high in the sky when the first case of the day came in. She had been beaten pretty badly and had been hiding in the bush all night. The Daughters had found her and brought her in but it was too late for Magical Triage. Izoduwa bound her wounds and stitched the shallow cuts in her face, only time would tell if they would heal true. She would need several days of bed rest before the Daughters could move her. He didn't ask where they sent women like this, he knew they would never tell a man, even one they trusted, which was for the best, if anyone came looking for the woman he had no answers to give them, even under duress.
It was a long day and Afrika was getting jumpy waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Ghoster showed up and made his pitch it was a relief.
"Mr Ghoster, I have been expecting you. What can I do to help with your problem?"
Dusk, 2 February 2072, Abandoned Warehouse Closet, Surele District, Lagos
(PAN:Hidden)
Ambalo silently accepted the card and then ambled along the catwalk leading down to the first floor and the exit. The drek is a kid doing here? The locals are usually too scared of this district to even cross the border. Must have either been paid real well or she's serious about this. He looked at the card as he walked out the door. Well, can't hurt to look into this, maybe I can even get some scratch. He walked to the north towards Mushin district to find some matrix connectivity and check the small unit that held his more important gear.
Evening, 2 February 2072, Mushin District, Lagos
The streets were busy at this time of night. Mostly people going home from a long day in Ikeja, but there were plenty of merchants out still as well. Mushin was relatively safe as long as you didn't do any dirty business there, the Awori being very particular about everyone following local sharia law. Carrying weapons wasn't an issue as long as you didn't look like you'd use them, so Ambalo just walked calmly to a small studio apartment he rented for keeping his more pricey and sensitive gear. The place was pretty small and bare, but it was quiet, secure, and even had a semi-decent matrix and electric connection. He shot off a couple messages.
(PAN: active)
<<@Two Star: I hear someone named Ghoster is hiring "good people". Hear anything about him?##Steelfist>>
<<@Ghoster: A little girl tells me you're looking for problem solvers. I happen to be one. Contact this commcode if you wish to meet and discuss particulars.>>##
(Pan:passive)
After that, he opened a floorboard in the closet and got out his Heavy Milspec armor and Ares Alpha assault rifle, inspecting their condition and cleaning as needed, awaiting any responses.
(PAN:Hidden)
Ambalo silently accepted the card and then ambled along the catwalk leading down to the first floor and the exit. The drek is a kid doing here? The locals are usually too scared of this district to even cross the border. Must have either been paid real well or she's serious about this. He looked at the card as he walked out the door. Well, can't hurt to look into this, maybe I can even get some scratch. He walked to the north towards Mushin district to find some matrix connectivity and check the small unit that held his more important gear.
Evening, 2 February 2072, Mushin District, Lagos
The streets were busy at this time of night. Mostly people going home from a long day in Ikeja, but there were plenty of merchants out still as well. Mushin was relatively safe as long as you didn't do any dirty business there, the Awori being very particular about everyone following local sharia law. Carrying weapons wasn't an issue as long as you didn't look like you'd use them, so Ambalo just walked calmly to a small studio apartment he rented for keeping his more pricey and sensitive gear. The place was pretty small and bare, but it was quiet, secure, and even had a semi-decent matrix and electric connection. He shot off a couple messages.
(PAN: active)
<<@Two Star: I hear someone named Ghoster is hiring "good people". Hear anything about him?##Steelfist>>
<<@Ghoster: A little girl tells me you're looking for problem solvers. I happen to be one. Contact this commcode if you wish to meet and discuss particulars.>>##
(Pan:passive)
After that, he opened a floorboard in the closet and got out his Heavy Milspec armor and Ares Alpha assault rifle, inspecting their condition and cleaning as needed, awaiting any responses.
Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
(PAN: Hidden)
Kano had slept through artillery bombardments, firefights and bombing runs but something about Lagos was keeping him awake. He'd read that there was a high magic background count here but he didn't think he'd be able to taste it in the air. As a matter of fact he could smell ozone and that was new in the last few minutes.
He opened his eyes and saw an unearthly glow reflected on the brick wall outside the window.
Damn magic. He grabbed his coat and adjusted his revolvers so they sat comfortably. Kano shoved the refrigerator out of the way, unbolted the door and headed out into the Lagos night. When ever magic gets involved somebody always gets hurt. Might as well be me.
(PAN: Hidden)
Kano had slept through artillery bombardments, firefights and bombing runs but something about Lagos was keeping him awake. He'd read that there was a high magic background count here but he didn't think he'd be able to taste it in the air. As a matter of fact he could smell ozone and that was new in the last few minutes.
He opened his eyes and saw an unearthly glow reflected on the brick wall outside the window.
Damn magic. He grabbed his coat and adjusted his revolvers so they sat comfortably. Kano shoved the refrigerator out of the way, unbolted the door and headed out into the Lagos night. When ever magic gets involved somebody always gets hurt. Might as well be me.
QUOTE (Faraday @ Mar 29 2010, 09:12 PM) 
The streets were busy at this time of night. Mostly people going home from a long day in Ikeja, but there were plenty of merchants out still as well. Mushin was relatively safe as long as you didn't do any dirty business there, the Awori being very particular about everyone following local sharia law. Carrying weapons wasn't an issue as long as you didn't look like you'd use them, so Ambalo just walked calmly to a small studio apartment he rented for keeping his more pricey and sensitive gear. The place was pretty small and bare, but it was quiet, secure, and even had a semi-decent matrix and electric connection. He shot off a couple messages.
(PAN: active)
<<@Two Star: I hear someone named Ghoster is hiring "good people". Hear anything about him?##Steelfist>>
<<@Ghoster: A little girl tells me you're looking for problem solvers. I happen to be one. Contact this commcode if you wish to meet and discuss particulars.>>##
(Pan:passive)
(PAN: active)
<<@Two Star: I hear someone named Ghoster is hiring "good people". Hear anything about him?##Steelfist>>
<<@Ghoster: A little girl tells me you're looking for problem solvers. I happen to be one. Contact this commcode if you wish to meet and discuss particulars.>>##
(Pan:passive)
From Two Star<<@Steelfist: Yeah, I know of Ghoster, but I haven't heard about hiring. He was a Special Projects VP at CrossApplied before the Crash. t He pays well for jobs, but he's funny about who he chooses. You want me to fix ya up?>>
An hour later, another message came in:
<<A little girl? I'm already impressed, and I've yet to meet you. She's an excellent judge of skilled and well-intentioned individuals. I'm arranging a lunch meeting tomorrow to discuss particulars, and I invite you to join us. I'll be sending you the address shortly.>>
Evening, 2 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
Blasted gangers! Eyez cursed. Missed Kano at the airport, Eyez could not believe his luck encountering two gun fights on the way to the airport. Still, Eyez had enough time to reach Solo before the day was out.
Eyez pulled his motorcycle to the garage drive way as Solo was about to close the door.
Raising both hands in a friendly gesture, Eyez said, "Hey there chummer! Still open for business? Well, not this business" Eyez pointed to his bike. "The Daughters recommend you as a good driver and shooter, and I've got a job offer. I work for a man named Ghoster who's hiring. I don't know the particulars, but I've been sent here to give you his contact info. Interested?"
Blasted gangers! Eyez cursed. Missed Kano at the airport, Eyez could not believe his luck encountering two gun fights on the way to the airport. Still, Eyez had enough time to reach Solo before the day was out.
Eyez pulled his motorcycle to the garage drive way as Solo was about to close the door.
Raising both hands in a friendly gesture, Eyez said, "Hey there chummer! Still open for business? Well, not this business" Eyez pointed to his bike. "The Daughters recommend you as a good driver and shooter, and I've got a job offer. I work for a man named Ghoster who's hiring. I don't know the particulars, but I've been sent here to give you his contact info. Interested?"
Evening, 2 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
(Pan:passive)
Solo was almost done closing up, contemplating the words Adesina told him. "Daughter or not, that shaman always manages to put me on edge.", he thought, when Wynona interrupted his thinking.
<<Someone's coming up the drive, sweety.>>
Solo lifted the bay door back up as the chap on the bike raised his hands. He didn't know if this guy was trying to get over on him or not. Either way, Solo didn't have his guns on him, but the sight of the Vigilance auto-cannon on the Roadmaster might make him think twice about trying something foolish. He hoped...
"G'd evenin' mate! The name's Solo. Good to know ya'.", he said like a shop owner greeting a new customer. "Good thing ya' don't need that bike fixed. I'm crap with 'em. I can drive and shoot well enough, though.", Solo quips as he walks out to shake hands with Eyez. "I guess the Daughters are tryin' to help me get work that I can actually live off of."
<<They pay him just fine. He's just being a brat.>>
Once Eyez gets to the business at hand, Solo drops the light-hearted canter. "Ghoster, huh? You actually caught me at a good time. I just finished a job, and haven't lined anything else up yet. Let me get his info and I'll see what he has to say."
(Pan:passive)
Solo was almost done closing up, contemplating the words Adesina told him. "Daughter or not, that shaman always manages to put me on edge.", he thought, when Wynona interrupted his thinking.
<<Someone's coming up the drive, sweety.>>
Solo lifted the bay door back up as the chap on the bike raised his hands. He didn't know if this guy was trying to get over on him or not. Either way, Solo didn't have his guns on him, but the sight of the Vigilance auto-cannon on the Roadmaster might make him think twice about trying something foolish. He hoped...
"G'd evenin' mate! The name's Solo. Good to know ya'.", he said like a shop owner greeting a new customer. "Good thing ya' don't need that bike fixed. I'm crap with 'em. I can drive and shoot well enough, though.", Solo quips as he walks out to shake hands with Eyez. "I guess the Daughters are tryin' to help me get work that I can actually live off of."
<<They pay him just fine. He's just being a brat.>>
Once Eyez gets to the business at hand, Solo drops the light-hearted canter. "Ghoster, huh? You actually caught me at a good time. I just finished a job, and haven't lined anything else up yet. Let me get his info and I'll see what he has to say."
Evening, 2 February 2072, Mushin District, Lagos
(Pan:active)
From Steelfist<<@Two Star: Already got a job offer, but thanks. Mostly just looking for info on a prospective employer. Still, if things go as I expect them, I may have a proposition for you that'd give us both something we want.>>
Upon receiving the comm from Ghoster:
From interested party<<@Ghoster: Just FYI, if the address is somewhere in the Victoria District, I will require private transport to arrive in person. The security in that area would not likely approve of my appearance on the street and I would not want to draw undue attention to a potential employer.>>
(Pan:passive)
(Pan:active)
From Steelfist<<@Two Star: Already got a job offer, but thanks. Mostly just looking for info on a prospective employer. Still, if things go as I expect them, I may have a proposition for you that'd give us both something we want.>>
Upon receiving the comm from Ghoster:
From interested party<<@Ghoster: Just FYI, if the address is somewhere in the Victoria District, I will require private transport to arrive in person. The security in that area would not likely approve of my appearance on the street and I would not want to draw undue attention to a potential employer.>>
(Pan:passive)
Evening, 2 February 2072, Warehouse bordering the Ikeja and Ifako-Ijaye divisions
"Good drek! Here's his digits" Eyez reaches into his pocket and produces Ghoster's business card.
"He's arranging a lunch meeting tomorrow with a bunch of potential people for the job. Give him a ring!"
Turning back, Eyez stops midway.
"I'm getting some weird comm-traffic during your convo, any idea what that is?"
After getting the answer, Eyez smiles appreciatively and jumps back on the bike. "Good meeting ya!" says Eyez, and speeds back into Ikeja.
"Good drek! Here's his digits" Eyez reaches into his pocket and produces Ghoster's business card.
"He's arranging a lunch meeting tomorrow with a bunch of potential people for the job. Give him a ring!"
Turning back, Eyez stops midway.
"I'm getting some weird comm-traffic during your convo, any idea what that is?"
After getting the answer, Eyez smiles appreciatively and jumps back on the bike. "Good meeting ya!" says Eyez, and speeds back into Ikeja.
Nighttime, 2 February 2072, On the border between Victoria Island and Ikoyi Island, Lagos, Africa.
The street blazed with light. An errant flame met an oil leak from a car and smoke billowed everywhere while the fight raged. The spirit bemoaned the damage while the dwarf held onto it. It had underestimated the power of the dwarf and now found itself flinging over the entire island.
Laughing, the dwarf flung the spirit into a fallen electrical power line. Shaking from the pain, the spirit flung fire and lightning everywhere. The dwarf flipped and jumped through the field of fire and landed both feet onto the spirit. Slamming into a brick wall, the spirit snapped out of the pain and realized new tactics were in order.
Crackle, crackle. Ice appeared and the dwarf howled as the heat left it's body. The spirit sucked in the heat around it channeling it into his left appendage. The dwarf retreated but jerked to a stop. The spirit saw its plan had worked and the dwarf's shoes froze to the street. "Die fiend!" the spirit yelled. It plunged its appendage's blue flame into the chest of the dwarf. Flames arose from the body of the dwarf until it was bathed in it.
The dwarf smile grotesquely. "Tell your masters that you can't save them all" she said and she collapsed.
===
The spirit entered the astral only to find two spirits waiting for it. "See our difference in power and unblock my path!". However the spirits weren't so intelligent and were dissipated before completing their attack. The spirit journeyed onward to find his target. Seeing the troll amongst the crowd now gathering, the spirit casted a mind link spell.
"Tonight was no random incident, and that dwarf was after you. You must contact this man." The spirit shared the information on Ghoster. "Go back to your rest. I will protect you tonight"
The spirit shared an image of its form and followed Hammer back to his room.
The street blazed with light. An errant flame met an oil leak from a car and smoke billowed everywhere while the fight raged. The spirit bemoaned the damage while the dwarf held onto it. It had underestimated the power of the dwarf and now found itself flinging over the entire island.
Laughing, the dwarf flung the spirit into a fallen electrical power line. Shaking from the pain, the spirit flung fire and lightning everywhere. The dwarf flipped and jumped through the field of fire and landed both feet onto the spirit. Slamming into a brick wall, the spirit snapped out of the pain and realized new tactics were in order.
Crackle, crackle. Ice appeared and the dwarf howled as the heat left it's body. The spirit sucked in the heat around it channeling it into his left appendage. The dwarf retreated but jerked to a stop. The spirit saw its plan had worked and the dwarf's shoes froze to the street. "Die fiend!" the spirit yelled. It plunged its appendage's blue flame into the chest of the dwarf. Flames arose from the body of the dwarf until it was bathed in it.
The dwarf smile grotesquely. "Tell your masters that you can't save them all" she said and she collapsed.
===
The spirit entered the astral only to find two spirits waiting for it. "See our difference in power and unblock my path!". However the spirits weren't so intelligent and were dissipated before completing their attack. The spirit journeyed onward to find his target. Seeing the troll amongst the crowd now gathering, the spirit casted a mind link spell.
"Tonight was no random incident, and that dwarf was after you. You must contact this man." The spirit shared the information on Ghoster. "Go back to your rest. I will protect you tonight"
The spirit shared an image of its form and followed Hammer back to his room.
QUOTE (Faraday @ Mar 30 2010, 07:30 PM)
Evening, 2 February 2072, Mushin District, Lagos
From interested party<<@Ghoster: Just FYI, if the address is somewhere in the Victoria District, I will require private transport to arrive in person. The security in that area would not likely approve of my appearance on the street and I would not want to draw undue attention to a potential employer.>>
(Pan:passive)
From interested party<<@Ghoster: Just FYI, if the address is somewhere in the Victoria District, I will require private transport to arrive in person. The security in that area would not likely approve of my appearance on the street and I would not want to draw undue attention to a potential employer.>>
(Pan:passive)
<<That will not be a problem. Our meeting is a Muslim and African restaurant in Ikeja close to Mushin. I've attached the address. When you arrive, be sure to mention the Graystone party to the host, and he will show you in.>>
QUOTE (crizh @ Mar 29 2010, 03:20 PM)
2 February 2072, Ifako-ijoha District
"Mr Ghoster, I have been expecting you. What can I do to help with your problem?"
"Mr Ghoster, I have been expecting you. What can I do to help with your problem?"
"The mystic arts. I'm hoping you might help us on a few problems, actually. However, we will need to discuss particulars somewhere more private." Producing a paper map, Ghoster handed Afrika it with a restaurant clearly labeled. "Come meet me here tomorrow lunch for the particulars. If you should have difficulties getting there, for whatever, please do not hesitate to call me. My commcode is on the other side. When you arrive, mention the Graystone party to the host, and he'll show you my table. Unless you have questions, I look forward to tomorrow."
(PAN: active)
<<Excellent, I look forward to meeting.>>
(PAN: hidden, signal: skinlink only)
Ambalo grinned. He had a good feeling about this meeting, although he got the impression he'd need to dress to impress. Not an issue with the milspec armor though, just a matter of covering up before getting to the meet.
For now, he'd need to kill some time, take a nap to rest up for the big day ahead, maybe make a quick route to the restaurant to make sure he knew a good way to get out of that neighborhood. He returned the milspec and rifle to their hiding place and set back out onto the street toward the meeting spot. The place probably wasn't more than 3 or 4 miles out from his apartment, meaning a bit over an hour there and an hour back. There was plenty of time to keep an eye out for good alleys to duck into and hide. He snapped shots of the best spots with his image link into his commlink. He walked within a block of the restaurant, then turned back and took a slightly different route on the way back.
<<Excellent, I look forward to meeting.>>
(PAN: hidden, signal: skinlink only)
Ambalo grinned. He had a good feeling about this meeting, although he got the impression he'd need to dress to impress. Not an issue with the milspec armor though, just a matter of covering up before getting to the meet.
For now, he'd need to kill some time, take a nap to rest up for the big day ahead, maybe make a quick route to the restaurant to make sure he knew a good way to get out of that neighborhood. He returned the milspec and rifle to their hiding place and set back out onto the street toward the meeting spot. The place probably wasn't more than 3 or 4 miles out from his apartment, meaning a bit over an hour there and an hour back. There was plenty of time to keep an eye out for good alleys to duck into and hide. He snapped shots of the best spots with his image link into his commlink. He walked within a block of the restaurant, then turned back and took a slightly different route on the way back.
[ Spoiler ]
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.
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?
[ Spoiler ]
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.
[ Spoiler ]
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.
[ Spoiler ]
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)
(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)
(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>>
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.
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!
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."
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.
(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.
[ Spoiler ]
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.
(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.>>
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.
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.
[ Spoiler ]
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.
(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."
[ Spoiler ]
"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."
(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.
[ Spoiler ]
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."
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."
(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."
(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."
(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?"
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."
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?"
"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.
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?"
(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?"
QUOTE (Faraday @ Apr 3 2010, 12:22 PM)
"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.
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."
"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."
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