(Note: These events take place on the same day that the Pit Lord Elite, or whatever they are now, left Doma city.)
Boreas, or 'Ree', was reclining comfortably in the back room of the Sow's Ear, their usual rondevue bar in Doma, and waiting for his lieutenants to arrive. His little expirement in crime had been going for only a hand full of days, and already they had made a fair deal of money. But he foresaw that ending soon, if precautions weren't taken. Ree was musing over these facts when the door opened and a large, muscular looking nekojin was shown in. Mri'jal had arrived first. No surprise there.
Ree motioned to his right hand neko, indicating that he should sit down, which he did. As he unslung the long, wrapped bundle that contained his weapon and leaned it against the wall, he asked, "So, boss, what arrre we discussing today? Public rrrelations? Prrrices? Who to bully into accepting ourrr prrrices and who not to?"
The drow shook his head in reply. "Nothing of the sort, my dear boy. It's a matter a little more important than that. I'll explain once the others arrive."
"Otherrrs? All of them?" Mri'jal asked, obviously surprised. Ree nodded. All four of the black market's coordinators hadn't met simultaneously with it's mastermind since it had hastily been organized a week ago. The plan had been to avoid getting them all in one place again so as to avoid suspicion. Both men knew this, and both knew that if Boreas, the most cautious of all people, had called them together, then there must be a good reason.
The exchange had barely been completed, and it's implications digested, before another person was shown in. While Mri'jal was a tall and imposing nekojin, he was still dwarfed by the figure who entered. Hrimm was a kumajin, with all the size and muscular development you would expect from a member of that bearlike race. A large sack dangled from his shoulder, which Ree did not doubt contained his deadly repeating crossbow. The drow found himself reflecting absently that he was probably the most wanted person in this group, yet also the only one who didn't walk about armed most of the time.
Hrimm wordlessly took a seat next to Mri'jal, nodding his greetings to his boss, and to his fellow lieutenant. A companionable silence fell over the room as the three men waited for their other two companions to arrive.
Looking at the two sitting next to each other, Ree found it incredible how well they got along. The were, after all, very different. Mri'jal was built in a very compact manner, much like a spring, but Hrimm was tall and rangy, more like an unbending suit of armor. Mri'jal had been raised in the desert and was always cold, hence his ever-present jacket over his coveralls. Hrimm, on the other hand, was raised in the mountains, and so used to cold that he never put anything over his baggy shorts and short sleeved shirts except in the very dead of winter.
Their first encounter hadn't encuraged things any, either. When they had first run into each other, they had litterally run into each other. In the ensuing confrontation, Mri'jal, much to Hrimm's surprise, left the field with the honor of stronger man, leaving the Kumajin very dizzy, and with a major bump on his forhead. What the nekojin didn't realize until later was that Hrimm had left the field with his wallet. But despite, or perhaps because, of the nature of their first meeting, the two had later formed a friendly alliance before eventually working their way into Ree's circle of influence.
The drow's musing was interrupted as the door opened a third time and the Ear's proprieter showed in their final two companions. One was a tall, striking woman with shoulder length silver-green hair. Nai Resh had siren blood in her viens, and it showed. In fact, Ree and Nai had had a... relationship in the past, one which left the two still friends when it ended, despite the fact that her brash personality grated on him at times. When he had needed a person to put in charge of the thieving portion of his opperation, he had known who he could turn too, for both efficiency and power. The drow had no doubt the siren woman carried her sai's concealed somewhere on her person, either within the folds of her blue shirt or under the flared legs of her pants which covered her boot tops.
The second person was a woman known merely as Amanda. She was the only human member of the black market's high rankers, but, like the rest of them, she had her own oddities. Like, despite the fact that she was a mage, she carried a massive warhammer with her most of the time. And, while it was not with her now, she was by no means unarmed, as the 'magic inhibiting collar' she wore was actually one of the market's expertly produced forgeries. Amanda the black mage was quite capable of using her magic, thank you very much. The other odd thing of note was the fact that she was missing her left arm. While Ree had no doubts this somehow effected her turning to a life of crime, she had never seen fit to share what had happened with anyone the drow could get information from.
The two women took resting places from the selection of comfortable seating their hide away provided, and turned to look at Ree. The drow, in turn, took a moment to survey his collection of people.
A nekojin who's speech impedment had made him the target of ridicule, both from other races and his own. A kumajin who had forsaken his people's way of life to study mathmatics. A siren who's personality was more like an abbrasive security chief's than a soothing woman's. And a mage who appeared so small and frail, yet contained enough bottled energy to break a demon's curse.
And their leader, a drow who knew almost nothing about the way his 'kin' lived, and didn't really give a damn, even if people did stigmatize him with it. Getting all of them together had been a tremendous effort, one he almost hadn't been willing to make. But, damn it all if this wasn't going to be fun!
"Ladies and gentlemen, I've called you together to discuss this little game we've decided to play with the law. I think that we've gotten our team ready. Now it's time to discuss the competition."
To Be Continued... <p>
English does not have a word for what you do to do a dead thing to make it stop chasing you. Clearly, you cannot kill that which is dead. But until Mr. Webster comes up with replacement, we are forced to render dead that which is dead. - Just Call Me Fed
The man wants a new pair of pants. What's wrong with that? - Crawling Reshiki</p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=joshuadurron>JoshuaDurron</A] at: 10/8/03 3:17 pm