You get a decent night of sleep and wake up alone in the guildhall the next morning. After preparing yourself for the day, you give Crimson, the Red Rovers' leader, a call. He answers his phone quickly in his usual manner. "What's up?

The girl agrees "Yes, let's find someplace else to talk." As you go to go back in and find Giles, you nearly run directly into him as the back door swings open. He laughs and pushes you back. Alarmingly, you notice his focus, though not active, is in his hand.
"They weren't too happy to see me, and they're gonna be out here shortly. I told them we would settle it out here." Giles explains hurriedly. "It would be best if you guys got out of here before they find you, Justin. I can hold them off.

Crimson laughs. "Yeah, I'm sure we can find you a truck or something. You may not wanna drive around in it all day, and be extra sure to obey traffic laws." He pauses for a moment. "We can get a couple guys on it. Just tell me where you want the truck dropped off. They'll be sure to leave it unlocked for you. One thing though, It always helps motivate the boys when I can give them a little incentive. Got anything I can slide their way for this? Oh and while I'm thinking of it, where's that help you guys were sending? We're getting spanked down at the Everett docks."

Crimson agrees to the amount of 250 for his men and tells you that they'll drop a truck off at the corner of 8th and Wilson, in Everett. After getting off the phone with Crimson, you call around for the equipment you were going to be needing. While you locate most of it in normal sporting goods stores, the other, more rare items you need to find specialty stores. Luckily, being close to Mount Rainier in the pacific northwest, Seattle does have one or two mountaineering/ski places where you are able to pick up the 'hardcore' equipment. Luckily, being all legal, you pay normal price for everything. Around noon, you go to the designated location where a blue pickup truck is waiting for you with a broken passenger-side window and the keys left in it. Having already located the equipment you need, you spend the next 2 hours driving around and picking it all up. With everything together, barring any other last minute issues, you can safely say, gear-wise, your set.

You find yourself a nice restaurant to get yourself a good, square meal, before leaving for a place which may not have many. After taking your time with the delicious meal, you head to the airport a little early to ensure that there are no difficulties getting a ticket or getting your gear checked in.

The abundant traffic heading into Sea-Tac slows things considerably, and being in a likely stolen truck, you park the vehicle somewhere inconspicuous and ditch it, grabbing your gear out of the back. Luckily, all your equipment fits into both rucksacks...barely. Though you know it will get better when you're actually wearing some of it, for now, the task of hauling it is daunting. Still, you feel a pleasant feeling watching those stuck in traffic within the airports labyrinth of drives and parking lots watch you walk by, making better progress than they.

Making your way through the port, you find the South American Airlines desk and claim your ticket. You tell the youthful latin girl at the counter that you are there to pick up a ticket purchased by a Mr. Malexzhigeir, and suprisingly it works the first time. With ticket in hand, you proceed to baggage, and check in your items, including the survival knife and micro-flare launcher which you had with your gear.

Not much later, you find yourself on a flight to Chile. Hours pass, and you eventually land in Santiago. Though the flight was comfortable, and the in-flight meal passable, you are eager to get up and walk around somewhere other than a crouded aisle. Checking your ticket, you find to your dismay that your connecting flight's departure time is dangerously close. On the plus side, your baggage gets shipped by itself, saving you the time of checking it out and back in again. With no time to spare, you board a small twin-engine prop plane which transports you further south to Punta Arenas. You share the plane with none but your luggage, which is uncerimoniously stacked in the seats adjacent to yours. The cold in the unpressurized cabin is biting, but not overpowering. Certainly nothing near what you will experience later. You gather from the surroundings, that this must be some sort of private carrier, also given the lack of security. A short flight later, you land in Punta Arenas.

Carrying your own luggage, you disembark the small plane onto what looks to be a small, poorly-maintained airfield. Not wanting to waste much time, you make your way accross the tarmac, to the "airport"s terminal. Quickly passing through, you grab a taxi, luckily finding one who speaks English. You tell him to take you to the harbor, and he proceeds to drive you there through the quaint city of Punta Arenas. Though small in contrast to a city like Seattle, it still has it's share of bustle, though not so much to have lost it's charm as a backwater South American city. In about 15 minutes, you arrive at the port. You pay the driver his fare, including a small tip, for which the total amounts to 14. In the harbor, you see many sailboats and motor vessels parked along wooden, almost rotting piers. One of the piers has a sign posted.

Embarcadero 11 - Estrella Ártica "Arctic Star"

Further down the pier, you see what appear to be dock workers, taking a break. Judging by the locations of boxes and the small crane, you judge that they must have just finished loading the vessel. At the entrance to the pier, you see a young, though grizzeled, latin man smoking a cigarette and checking his watch. On his head, a dingy red beanie sits atop unkept black hair that pokes out beneath it. He wears a grungy flanel jacket and slightly ripped blue jeans with cowboy boots to top off the ensemble. Either a dockworker, or a crewmember...

The man speaks in fairly good English to reply. "That is Arctic Star right dere," he says, "We transport supplies, no passengers."

"No dice, chinaman." he says sternly. "The only way you come onboard is you work. Can you work, maybe then you get to talk to skipper."

"I am sorry my main man," The latin man continues. "The only man the captain is expecting is our new cook. If you not the new cook, then you not talking to the skipper."

"Well good to see you man Mr. Ishie. If you're the cook then you are the cook. Go to the boarding ramp where that man is smoking." The latin man points to the loading ramp leading from the pier to the boat itself. "That's Miguel, the crew chief. Tell him you the new cook."

You thak the man and make your way over to Miguel. He greets you and you explain your situation to him along with that you are the new cook. He answers kindly. "Well the skipper told me to be expecting a chinaman, so I supose you are our new cook. Come right along and I'll show you the galley, and your quarters." He leads the way, and you follow, lugging your gear all along. He continues talking as he shows you through the ship. "Being cook, you got a room near the galley since guys may want you to make meals at any time of the night. It isn't much, but it should be enough for you to stow your gear and still have a clear bunk." He opens the hatch to your quarters and you are greeted by spartan, though slightly dingy digs. A pair of bunks are built into the wal, and there is a small trid in the corner. You drop off your stuff and head to the galley with Miguel. "Here is the galley," Miguel begins. "You will be spendng a lot of time here. Be sure to be courteous, and give large portions. The kitchen is fully stocked. By the way, you won't be meeting the skipper until later when he comes to eat, he's pretty busy right at the moment. You'll recognize him though. He's a big Protuguese and e's always wearing a Budweiser hat." Miguel guffaws loudly. After showing you a few more features of the medium sized vessel, including showers, bathrooms, rec room, etc...he takes his leave, but adds as he is leaving you. "By the way, you'll get your pay when we arrive near Halley. 1000 as promised."

Giles looks at you confidently, but the girl seems suprised. She looks at you quizically. "So what, you have a bodygouard too? You're not going to leave him to handle those guys himself are you? They are skilled mages."

"I will be fine." Giles reassures. "Getting Master Blake out of here is more important than my life." The girl looks irritated.

"You cannot be serious," she says to Giles. "If it means anything to you guys, I'd rather not be involved in this, but it's your friend." Directing her gaze at Justin, she asks clearly. "What do you want to do?"

Koe hasn't had to do much cooking for about 10 years now, since he really started doing well in shodowrunning. He will have to relearn much of it.

Though it had been a long time since you last cooked, you are a sharp guy and think you remember many of the basics. You take a look through the kitchen and see that it is fully stocked with foods of all types. You find a makeshift cookbook composed of many scraps of paper with recipes on them. Taking a look through, you see that the recipes are almost all items found on the galley menu. This would be easier than you thought.

You activate your focus and shrug off the slight feeling of drain as the elegant laser takes the form of a deadly blade. A moment later, Giles activates his focus, the blade of white-blue light coming to life before him. The girl jumps back, a look of confusion, fear, or just plain astonishment on her face.
"You use the same weapons their most powerful mages use!" She blurts out. "Where did you learn that? What is going on here?"
Her questions may as well have been rhetorical, as the scarred man and his young companion emerge suddenly from the back door into the alley. The scarred man holds his companion back as he sees the lightsabers in your hands. The scarred man takes a good look at Justin and orders his companion:
"These are a different kind of adversary. Get back to the guildhall. Tell Graf that the "One" is here." With amazing speed, the scarred man draws his own focus, igniting it as his companion scrambles away. Rather than a single blade, two blades, red like the ocean sunset extend from either end of the focus. He addresses Giles. "My quarrel with you can wait. I want the "One"."
"Then your quarrel with me will be settled here." Giles responds defiantly.
"If that is how you would have it. Though it dosn't need to be this way..." The scarred man tells Justin. "You can join us. We can end this pointless war...Come to us, and we'll end the suffering and madness that for so long has held our Orders back from being truely great."

The voyage goes smoothly. Over the next couple days, you feel that cooking is almost second nature to you, and you have received quite a few tips to boot. You learn over the course of the trip that the crew consists of 18 sailors and 4 officers, including the skipper. 6 sailors on shift, with an officer at the helm. The skipper seems to have no set schedule. A surly man of heavy build, he has a look of long life on the sea. You learn much about the lives and personalities of many of the crew and officers, though only so much as one can expect to learn over a short while. Being the ship's cook, you are able to build a good rapport with them and learn much of your destination.
Many of them have made the trip many times, though none have ever stayed there any longer than was needed to off-load and pickup cargo. The crew is very tight-knit, having been on the same ship for a number of years. Before doing the Arctic run for the past year, they worked a privateer vessel in the phillipines, hunting pirates, as it were. The Arctic Star was a new ship, and though the pay wasn't quite so lucrative, the job for them was easy going, and they liked it. Not only did they make trips to Halley, but other antarctic stations on the cntinent as well. Often though, they would talk in the galley of the "good ol' days".
It turns out, there are no "rental" stores at Halley. With the danger inherant to the place, there is high probability that a rental might not come back. Instead, they sell equipment, allowing the buyer to sell it back to them upon their return if they wish, of course, making a profit in the proccess.
The base itself has about 200 permanant residents, and on top of that, a few dozen tourists during most of the season. Much of the base is constructed underground. Most of the non-essential parts of the base are nicer living quarters set up for the hotel restaurant that operates there. It includes recreational activities and facilities, as well as a guide service for patrons wishing to brave the cold for a day or two.
Away from the hotel, your shipmates tell you, is a bar run by some of the permanant residents called "Silap Innua", after the spirits you learned of in the guildhall's library. It is considered a rough place by all accounts. Popular with isolates (the term for people who live in antarctica to get away from civilization) just visiting, orichalcum hunters as of late, and some of the more skilled "but dangerous" (your crewmates tell you) guides on the continent, it is the place to go if you are looking to score anything illegal, or unsavory. Firearms are hard to find on the continent, and are very valuble, as is narcotics.
They tell you there is always something unusual going on in the antarctic, you'll just have to see what's new when you get there. The Arctic Star usually transports supplies to the bases, sometimes picking up passengers to take back, or freight in some instances. This has ranged from ice samples for some of the scientific research going on there, to more recently, orichalcum before it dried up. Despite popular assumptions, there isn't much of a fishing industry. Most settlements have to be built far from the water and shifting ice, too far for a regular industry. Some temporary camps will set up to fish a few days to get food (to eat or trade), but move often. Some attempted whaling enterprises, but found it was easier to base themselves in Chile or Argentina instead.

You are awaken at 4 a.m. by the buzzing of the hardwired phone in your cabin. Picking it up, it's the Skipper. Assuming this is call for breakfast, you tell him you'll be in the galley shortly, but he stops you. "We ain't eating in the galley this morning, we're eating at Halley. Get your stuff and get ready to depart." He orders. "Oh and by the way, If you wanna make an extra 100, we could use some help off-loading the supplies. Whaddya say?" You agree and he tells you to report up top in 30 minutes.
You studiously get your things together and clean up a little, arriving "up top" in cold weather clothes and ready to work. Not sure what you were expecting, you see the godly expanse of the antarctic ahead of you, the sapphire water creating a stunningly beautiful contrast in the pristine environment. On shore, you see a makeshift pontoon dock, anchored to the ice by sturdy poles. Near it, you see 4 heavy duty ice-tractors, one of them with what appears to be a large nailgun assembly, no doubt the machine which drove the 10-foot icepoles into place which now anchor the dock. Behind it, is a large sled trailer with a winch....probably where the dock was carried.
You help the crew of the Arctic Star toss the cargo netting over the side to the waiting zodiac inflatable boats below. Utilizing a crane on the ship, they lower the crates one-by-one into the zodiacs, which ferry them to the dock to be moved onto trailer sleds. You help out by getting crates into position and helping to prepare the rigging.
After an hour, the skipper orders the cargo netting rolled back up and proceeds to move the boat out to a distance where it would be safe to anchor. While this is happening, the workers on the shore pack up the crates and the temporary dock along with the zodiacs, save for one. After anchor is dropped, the remaining zodiac makes quick trips back and forth, ferrying 12 of the crew of the Arctic Star, including yourself to the waiting snow tractors. After loading up the final zodiac, everybody hops in a tractor and they begin moving their way towards Halley. At least that's what they tell you. All you can see is a bleached wasteland.
Inside the tractor it is toasty warm, and you hear the varios conversations of the crew and the workers from Halley. One conversation in particular catches your ear. One of the workers asks the skipper:
"Hear anything about a storm? We almost called off the operation this morning from looking at the satellites....What happened, I mean it was crystal clear out there just now."
The skipper just laughs and finally replies. "How long you been working this place, son?"
"This is my first month."
"You'll learn."
With that, the tractor convoy continues it's push accross in single file. Travelling single file ensured that whatever you were passing over was secure to cross, since the guy ahead of you made it, usually you would too. You were in the first tractor today.
Suddenly, a shrill, buzzing alarm comes to life in the cabin, casting blue light on everybody's pale faces. "Crevasse!" the driver shouts into his radio, immediately bringing the tractor to a halt. "Looks like a big one, we'll need to find a way around." As he gave his order, the workers all piled out, grabbing long iron rods from under the bench seat in the back.
"Grab a rod, you need to probe around and find the edges of the crevasse, and find where it ends and is safe to cross." The captain orders you, passing you one of the six-foot rods.

You show the crevasse detector to the skipper and he nods in approval. "Well let's get to work then." While the others use the rods, probing for the crevasse's edges, you effortlessly use your reader with the skill of a seasoned guide, easily drawing a line marking the edges of the crevasse with your rod. After a few minutes, the others stop probing, leaving the searching to you. A short while later, you find a suitable path around, and mark it with a neon red pole provided to you by one of the workers. After making the neccessary preparations, the convoy gets moving again, taking special care around the huge crevasse and making it's way to Halley. Once back in the tractor, the Skipper gives you a nod of approval. "I knew you were gonna be good luck when we signed you on."

As the tractors move on, you notice the weather progressively worsening. What started out a clear, crisp day worsens into a terrible storm. The progress of the tractors slows to a crawl, as the powerful winds shake their considerable bulk like tin cans. Though it is warm and comfortable inside the cab, the storm is strong, and even the seasoned men inside seem nervous. You can only wonder how things are back with the ship. The driver looks back at you after checking his wind gauge, laughing, but with a hint of worry in his voice that not even he could notice. "120 knots" He says, relating to you the windspeed.

The storm does not relent, but after 4 hours, you arrive at Halley, the station barely visable through the blowing snow and ice. In front of the tractor, you can see what look to be large cargo doors opening to a brightly lit bay. The tractors pull in, and after the cargo doors are firmly sealed behind you, everybody hops out of the wind tossed tractors. Around the bay, you can see other vehicles, including what you guess to be automated snowtrains. The skipper approaches you, producing a certified credstick. "Thanks for the help. Here's 1,100, just like we agreed. i hope you find what you're looking for down here." He says appreciatively. "This is the freight area. From here you can go to the residential areas, where the Silap Innua bar is, you can go to the hotel resort, or the marketplace district. Best place for a meal and a warm bath would be the hotel resort, but it could be a bit pricey. Good luck!"

You hold off on your attack as the young companion rushes back into the Alabaster Maiden. Nodding to Giles, you take up an offensive posture.

The scarred man smiles slightly as you ready yourself, moving into a defensive stance. As he is about to settle in, Giles leaps forward to attack, quickly moving close in to the scarred man, engaging him is very close combat. Seeing your opprotunity, you leap into the fray. Blades flying and clashing with abandon, you notice how easily the scarred man seems to engage both of you simultaniously with little effort. Despite this, Giles doesn't relent with his attack, signalling you to do the same.

After having a good round of goodbyes with the crew, you grab your considerable load of gear and lug it through the base to the entrance of the hotel-resort. The cool tunnels of the base are claustrophobic and weathered, but kept very clean. As you make your way through, you see what looks to be an elf with blueish-black skin and stunning long white hair approaching from the other direction. As she gets closer, you notice her to be rather attractive and fit, and as you pass eachother, you realize that it isn't her skin that is blueish-black, she actually has a very fine layer of fur. She gives you a smile from under her platinum locks as you pass her by.

After a short jaunt, you arrive at the entrance to the hotel-resort, The Regency Antarctica. As you enter the lobby, you are hit with a warm sensation of artificialy maintained atmosphere. Most astonishing is the huge glass dome that tops the lobby, a sharp contrast from the steel-framed and polymer tunnels of the rest of the base you've seen thus far. Between the support beams, you can see the flying ice and snow being whipped above the dome by the ferocious winds. Curiously, you don't hear them at all, only the calm sound of the fountain that marks the centerpiece of the lobby and soft classical music mixed with pleasant conversation. Near the fountain, you see a man and woman in nice dress conversing over cups of warm drink. To the far end of the room leading down a beautiful hall complete with shandeliers and velvet carpet, you see a well-dressed concierge manning his desk. Finding the front desk, you are met by very clean cut, sharply dressed woman, her dark hair straightened and pulled back into a ponytail, fully exposing her dark brown eyes as you approach her.

You set your gear by the fountain and speak with the front desk clerk, explaining what you would like. After punching a few keys on the cyberterm at her desk, she tells you what's available.

"We have one of our suite rooms available for 250 a night, or we can upgrade you to a getaway room for an additional 125 per night." She explains. "Guests are free to go to the restaurant at any time, we have strange hours around here with the days being as long as they are. Between 8 and 11am they have a brunch and in two hours the buffet will be opening. The buffet hours are between 8 and 10pm. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

As you attack the scarred man, your lightsaber dancing gracefully through the air, he turns aside your blade with one end of his weapon and simultaniously launches an attack directed at Giles with the other end. Easily deflecting it, Giles stumbles backwards nonetheless. Seeing him off-balance, the scarred man moves in, launching another assault with both blades that Giles only barely staves off. Seeing your opprotunity, you strike with lightning speed. Catching the scarred man off-guard, he tries with futility to deflect your attack. With a clean slice, the tip of your blade cuts accross the scarred man's left forarm. The power of your blade sends a faint blue ripple accross the scarred man's body as he grimaces in pain. He must have some sort of armor spell.

Not giving you time to debate with yourself, you see the man make a quick gesture towards Giles, who reels as if he was lassoed by an invisible rope. Stumbling, Giles seems to free himself with little difficulty aside from his initial reaction. You glance back to see if the girl is ok, but she is nowhere to be seen.

Through the darkness of the alley, you drop back nto a defensive stance and feel the mana running through the place. Concentrating on shaping those forces, you shape and unleash a powerful bolt of lightning towards the scarred man. As the bolt leaves your hands, you feel the control you had of it slightly slip as it streaks towards it's intended target. You feel the pain of the spell's backlash in your forehead as it drains the energy from your being, but it passes.
To your dismay, you see the scarred man reflexively catch the bolt, as if to throw it back, but it dissipates within his hands. Seeing an opprotunity, you see Giles leap forward to strike again with his lightsaber, it's bright glow illuminating his dark longcoat around him. Giles attacks with allhis ferocity, but the scarred man effortlessly deflects all his furious blows.

You leap forward, charging the scarred man with all you have, striking furiously at his flawless defense. Unfortunately, he deftly deflects your blows, nearly removing your head in a counter-attack that you barely manage to evade. As he slide-steps back under your assault, he unleashes a lightning-fast bolt of ice at Giles, who struggles to keep up with your assault. In a desperate move, Giles swings his saber at the fast-moving bolt, striking it and deflecting it into the stained brick wall of the alley.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know very much about that." The attractive girl replies when you ask her about the maps. "There's an outdoor shop near here that has equipment and guides. Our concierge can direct you there if you're looking for an adventure."

You thank the girl for the information and grab your stuff after she issues you a keycard. The bellhop comes up to help you with your gear, but you wave him off, preferring to carry it yourself.
Upon arriving to your room, you are pleasantly suprised. It is well-heated with great furnishings, but no windows, and is much larger than you expected. On the trid-stand, you see a bowl of fresh-cut fruit and chocolate covered strawberries. The minibar is fully stocked and there is a comfortable, large couch in addition to the thick, queen sized bed. In the corner, there is a cyberterminal available.

After getting your gear stowed, you head to the hotel's restaurant, simply named The Dining Room. Though the buffet is being set up, it isn't yet available so you order the house special, which tonight is a perfectly prepared rack of lamb topped with cinamon apple-sauce and served with rice and sauteed vegetables. You enjoy the amazing meal, and return to your room, where you enjoy a warm bath knowing you may not get another for a while. You easily fall asleep and rest well before waking in the morning, ready to go.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, you drop into a defensive stance and shape another lightning bolt. Blasting through the scarred man's shielding, he tries ineffectively to stop the blast, which strikes him directly in the chest. He flies back from the sudden shock, landing on his back, slightly dazed. You try to fight back the backlash of mana you feel from the powerful spell you just unleashed, your eyes squinting at the pain in your head.

As the scarred man thuds painfully into the ground, his saber deactivates and skitters accross the pavement as he loses his grip. The scarred man's clothes steaming from the blast of lightning, Giles closes the distance between the two and places his gleaming lightsaber blade at the man's neck.

"You're a skilled mage. But you should try to be less impulsive." Giles remarks to the scarred man. Directing his next question to you, he asks. "What should we do with him?"

Before giving you a chance to answer, the scarred man intercedes: "My apprentice and others will be here in moments. You do not know who you're dealing with."

After getting ready and leaving your room, you head to the concierge desk and speak to the concierge, a different one than you saw before. This concierge is a well-endowed ork female impeccibly dressed. You put forth your inquiries and she answers. "Well sir, the best place to find a guide is at the equipment shop called Icetek. We can arrange for a guide through them right now if you wish. Are you looking for a day-hike or an overnight excursion? We also offer southern lights tours. Also included in the charges is any gear you might need, for which if you return it in working order, the fee can be waived, minus a usage fee." The ork thinks for a moment after you ask about the geological maps. "I know there are some geological survey maps that they sell at Icetek, but I always throught the shifting ice made most of those useless within a few months. You may want to ask your guide. So, shall we schedule you a tour?"

You ploitely decline, telling her you will have to think about it. You get directions to get to Icetek (only a short walk through the base from here), but head for the residential area instead.

You make your way through the steel and plasticrete tunnels, noticing that it is slightly chilling throughout. The air however is clean and crisp, and rather refreshing. Every once in a while, you pass by a skylight, pausing to look at the blowing ice above. After only a short while, you enter the residential area, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the base aside from the jury-rigged hatches that appear from time to time on either side of the tunnels as you walk. On one, hangs an old plank of wood with the word "Challenge" embossed upon it. The piece looks very old and weathered. Outside of another, you see a small pot with some hardy-looking crabgrass-like plant growing out of it. Beside it, another pot with a small tomato plant, it's buds picked clean. You continue down the numerous tunnels, marvelling at what it must be like to live here. One door has a sign that reads "Home, chilly home." Occasionally, you pass a resident, many of whom give you a hardy "Good day to you!".

After wandering through the tunnels for quite some time, you meander into a section where the skylights are blacked out and the lighting units are burned out save for a few. You notice the air grow noticably cooler, and the wind outside becomes easily heard. Faintly, the walls of the tunnels rattle during a big gust. Down one of the tunnels, you notice a faint red glow. As you approach, you spot a transient-looking fellow lying on the floor, bundled in rags and a heavy, dingy coat. He holds out his gnarled arms and begs you: "Nuyen? Nuyen?" A little ways further down, you see a sickly young woman and a small child, huddling together close for heat and draped by a large, torn blanket. They don't appear to notice you. At the end of the tunnel, you see an open hatch, and a red neon sign with a neon palm tree that reads: Silap Innua

In a panic, you rush out to the street. "Damnit!" Giles curses, stepping back from the wounded scarred man, and following you (moving backwards), but keeping an eye on the scarred man until you round the corner. Suddenly, you jump in suprise to find the girl immediately around the corner, waiting at a cab with the door to the back seat open.
"Get inside!" She yells at both you and Giles. You notice Giles has left the scarred man unattended to follow you. Around the corner, if he was smart, he'd used this opportunity to escape. Sensing your dismay by the look on your face, Giles explains himself quickly.
"I don't kill a helpless opponent."

The three of you frantically pile into the cab, the girl getting in first. With a stunned look on her face, the girl turns her head around and gives you a dirty look. "Excuse me!?" Not knowing what she's talking about initially, you are embarrassed to find that as you were trying to push your way in so quickly, one of your hands had found it's way to her buttocks. You quickly remove the hand as Giles pipes in.
"This is no time for modesty, let's go!" To which everybody gets in. The driver looks back and asks where to. "Drive." Giles replies. You turn your head to look at the alley as the taxi begins to pull away. From the alley, you see the scarred man's apprentice rush out to the sidewalk. Seeing the cab puling away, he makes a waving motion, and an instant later, the back window shatters into a thousand pieces, dumping glass on the three of you. The apprentice gnashes his teeth in anger, pacing, as you all leave him behind.
The girl, using the back of her hand to clear the glass from your hair asks you: "So where are we going?"

You pass by the poor beggar and as you approach the young woman and her child, you hear the music within the bar ahead become audible to you. The girl lowers her head and refuses to look at you as you pass.
Trying to remain unnoticed, you enter the hatch and see the dark bar from the inside, the only visable light coming from the numerous neon alcohol signs that decorate the place. It looks to have two rooms. The main room with the bar where you are now, and a second room with numerous tables and door leading to either bathroom. The main room is large and lined with a well-stocked bar with stools along it. The majority of the room is empty, in what almost looks like a dance floor configuration. The second room is dotted with tables and two billiard tables. Almost as dim as the main room, additional lighting is provided by the lamps above the billiards tables.
At the bar, you see a hairy ork bartender having some sort of discussion with two dwarf females in dingy cold-weather clothing. At one end of the bar, you notice the same dark skinned, er- furred elf you passed the day before in the tunnels. On the other end, you see a rough-looking human in "street clothes" wearing a set of arctic goggles pulled atop his head amongst a scruffy, short slock of black hair. Glancing over to the second room, you see a lone ork, idly playing a game of billiards with himself. At his side, you see a sawed-off shotgun with a pistol grip. At the end of the grip is a steel ring that suspends it from an old tuna hook sewn into his belt. He wears short sleeves, a tank top in fact, that reads "The King of Beers". While he shoots billiards, a human female in her middle ages watches him play, all the while playing with a shiney butterfly knife.
As you are stepping into the bar, you feel an enormous weight on your shoulder that almost drops you to the floor. Turning around, you see the biggest troll you've ever seen standing beside the door in the shadow. Or at least you think he's a troll. Standing around 10 feet tall, but lacking any horns or dermal deposits, and with pale skin and a shaved head, he lets go as you turn around and speaks.
"You new here. Watch yourself, new ones not liked much 'ere." He says. "I'm Thirteen. No, not my age, that's my name. If you need something, I can help you."

The bartender reaches under the bar and grabs a stein, turning his back on you to fill it at the fountain, tipping it so as to drain the head. He turns back, setting it on the bar with a heavy thud, froth still creeping down the side of the clear glass. You give the bartender 8 and turn to look around for some tunes. Sure enough, pressed underneath Thirteen's massive bulk, you see a beat up digital jukebox. Though when one day it would've been lit up like a christmas tree, many of the lights seem to be non-functioning now. The digital display seems to be in tact though.

The driver, visably shaken by the incident that just occured, groans a response. "Sure thing buddy, but you know you'll be paying for that window."
Giles responds as the cabbie turns the cab towards Tacoma. "This should cover the ride and the window." He says calmly, crediting the driver 600 from his credstick.

After a half-hour drive, the cab arrives at a Nacho Mama, where the three of you get out. The girl looks at you with a snide grin. "Nacho Mama?" She says, "You really know how to impress a girl don't you?" Shrugging off the obviously smug remark, the three of you head into the fast-food joint and order some food. Everyone has a seat at a corner table and the girl starts:

"So, who should start?"

You find a few good old blues songs and punch them up on the jukebox, Thirteen not bothering to get out of the way as you operate the machine. As the first song starts up, he off-handedly remarks to you "Good choice."

After putting together a selection of songs, you take a seat at the bar next to the elf with the fine dark fur. She turns her head slightly to look at you as you sit down and winks her right eye. She pauses as you get settled then addresses you. "So, you gonna buy a girl or drink, or just sit there?"

The "fuzzy" elf answers wryly, a playful smile upon her face. "What a gentleman...I am Elle...and order me a screwdriver." She punctuates her sentence with a coy wink. "We don't get many outsiders in this part of the base. You must be looking for trouble...or have someone looking for you."

The bartender provides you your drinks, which the woman kindly motions to the bartender, making a writing motion with her hand to place the drinks on her tab. "Adventure isn't something people genaerally have to look for in these parts." She answers. "I sense you are on some important errand, no? As for me: Let's say I've been here long enough to have my own running tab at this bar." She smiles playfully with the final comment, looking for a reaction.

She looks at your hand in a coy fashion. "Dance?" She giggles to herself slightly. "No thank you. I think I'll sip my drink and enjoy the music from here." With that, she does exactly as she says. She again sets down her drink and continues. "So you are one of these wealthy gentlemen who finds adventure everywhere he goes? Own a seed company somewhere that runs itself while you hop about the globe and spend it's money? Like the other kinds we get here? Or are you one who rides the winds like a fallen leaf? Gathering just enough breeze here and there to get you just to your next destination..."

The woman looks at you quizzically. "The name of the bar? Silap Innua. It is...the spirit of the antarctic. Very dangerous." She brushes her hair back with her lithe fingers. "Uh-oh...maybe I shouldn't have said that. It is common knowledge that handsome, adventurous strangers cannot resist anything that is dangerous." She giggles again and takes a sip of her screwdriver.