1.0 - The Lion, The Witch, and the Demon

After loading the pertinent details onto your datapad and loading your equipment into the van you start heading down to the docks districts. Keeping off the main road gets you there within an hour. The docks are the hub of all incoming and outgoing shipments to the city of San Waterdeep. As you get closer to the docks a light fall of rain starts coming down.

As Tymora explained before you left, she has arranged a bit of a deal with Daemon, in exchange for the 300 gc you received for the last job you are getting:

- 5 healing stims
- 100 rounds of sidearm ammunition
- 100 rounds of SMG ammunition
- 40 shotgun shells
- 2 Incendiary Grenades

Those of you in the know realize this is a crap ton of stuff for only 300 gc. Unfortunately that kit is kind of an offer you can't refuse. Tymora seems to know Daemon from her past, but wouldn't elaborate much, just that he's returning a favor.

Breecha sits in his customary position in the back of the van. The amount of cargo they are set to receive should stow nicely without having to squeeze in everything.

Since the back of the van doesn't have windows, the construct reaches out with his audio receivers, trying to pick up the surrounding traffic and note anything unusual for the area (ie military-grade engines, communications, etc). Meanwhile, a portion of his HUD scans the available camera feeds in the area or around the perimeter, at least those easy to tap into thanks to PHANTOM.

[Handing note to Breecha]

Breecha runs a quick hack in RAIN through PHANTOM's connection. He is able to crack into a few perimeter feeds for the location you are going to it's an old manufacturing complex with a large warehouse at the center. This is where you are supposed to be meeting Daemon.

Breecha screen-captures a few images from his quick scan and disconnects from RAIN. He uploads the pictures to the team's datapads, each one noting a number of armed guards around the perimeter (4 to 6 individuals), plus two makeshift towers with snipers.

"Assessment: Disadvantage In Numbers And Firepower," says Breecha, relaying the obvious. "Implication: Increased Security Personnel And Fortified Positions Inside Facility. Armed Confrontation Not Advised."

"Copy that." replies Kessel. "We're just going for a nice little chat with Tymora's friend, right? What could go wrong?" the half-elf says with a grin that says he expects everything to go to shit real fast.

"That is exactly the point Tymora was trying to make back at the shop BR33CH. This Daemon is doing us all a favor. Getting into a fight here is the last thing we want." Preserver is staring at his right hand, flexing it as though seeing it for the first time.

Mack grunts assent. He's brought along some side-reading ("Absolute Abjuration!") as a result of his recent study into more defensive magical spells and options and it rests tucked between his seat and the center console as he guides the van calmly and coolly along the streets of San Waterdeep.

"Still. I wouldn't be surprised if some other shoe dropped. This deal is too good to be true, so I suspect there are strings attached, one way or another."

OOC: Going the 'bold conversation' route you all have chosen for consistency. :)

Breecha's red optics flicker as his processors compute Kessel's question. "Answer: Transport Malfunction. Answer: Sabotaged Cargo. Answer: Law Enforcement Raid. Answer..." Breecha continues listing scenarios that qualify as "wrong."

As you approach the complex you see what Breecha has already relayed to you. Two makeshift guard towers stand just inside of a 12-foot tall brick wall. The wall surrounds a few warehouse buildings and storage buildings. The remnants of a sign outside shows it was once an Astral Pie factory. The armed guards outside, however, clearly indicate that is no longer the function of this complex.

As you pull the van up to the entrance a guard comes out of a small booth next to the main gate. He has a small SMG slung around his shoulder and a helmet with a dark visor covers his face, but he seems to be a dwarf, at least judging by his short, but stout build, not to mention his long braided beard.

State your business, he says, eyeing Mack in the driver seat. Or at least you think he is, it's hard to tell with that helmet.

"We're here to see Daemon. We have an appointment for a cargo pickup." Mack states, smooth as silk.

The guard turns away a bit and talks into a comm. He turns back, Who sent you for the pickup?, the dwarf questions.

Mack sighs, "Who's asking? I'm not sure Daemon would be excited for us to blabbermouth associates of his across town."

"Hey c'mon, man, Uncle G sent us." Kessel transmits 5 creds to the guard's electronic purse. "Be a pal. Daemon's expecting us. Let's not keep him waiting. Daemon's happy, everybody's happy, yeah?"

The dwarf looks blankly at you for a second. Probably. That visor really masks where he is looking. You hear a small audible notification noise from his comm as he is informed of of a small credit transfer. He sighs and turns to talk into his comms again. You overhear, I think it's Tymora's crew... Yeah... I'll send 'em in, he swirls his hand in the air looking up to one of the guards in the guard towers. The guard acknowledges and hits a button in the tower. The gate opens and you are waved in towards the big warehouse at the center of the complex.

As you start to drive in you hear the dwarf chuckle as he heads back to his post. You can hear him say, Yeah, they bribed me... No clue why...

Driving through the complex the rain is picking up and you see some of the guards of the smaller outlying warehouses have donned ponchos over their gear. When you get to the main warehouse a guard advises you to park near the entrance, he comes up to Mack in the van, Daemon's expecting you. Just head inside, his office is on the far west wall. You will need to surrender your weapons inside.

Breecha remains quietly seated in the van. There has been no need for his involvement in anything thus far, and considering the circumstances, that is a good thing.

Preserver give Kessel a playful nudge as he piles out of the van. When he is out and stands aside, taking the role of heavy lifter. He produces his scimitar and mace and freely hands them to the guard checking weapons, secretly pleased to know he isn't giving up his true advantage.

As the guards speak to each other on their comms Kessel attempts to hack the comm frequency. At the weapons check-in he surrenders his knives (he has left his firearms in the van).

OOC: EDITED to add soundtrack: "Armory"

Once parked, Mack ensures the van is secure (using the parking brake) and slides out of the driver's seat "Breecha, you coming with or you gong to hang out here?" Once all are gathered and proceed indoors, Mack surrenders his pistols, thinking he really needs to try using a backup arcane focus one day. But then, he likes his pistols. Maybe his hat... Chiding himself, he makes a point of paying attention for a change.

The rear double-doors open and Breecha steps out. He has left his weapons in the van so he has nothing to turn in. He closes and locks the doors, then scans the vehicle with his optics to capture its current status into memory. He then joins the others to proceed indoors.

After surrendering what weapons you had you proceed into the warehouse. The machinery inside has layers of dust, it hasn't seen use in some time. The warehouse itself is dark, lit only by the ambient light streaming in from outside. On the west side of the warehouse, however, is a faint orange light. As you approach you see a small side office with two guards standing outside.

The guard on the left is a large male, a barbarian's build if you've ever seen one. He has three large barbed javelins strapped across his back, and he is currently holding an automatic rifle. His hair is blonde, long, and thick. It appears almost mane-like around his face and neck.

The guard on the right is a slender woman. Her hair is a brilliant green the wraps down around her shoulders. Strapped to her hips is a dagger and a pistol. Her armor and clothes are ribboned with green glowing bands of color. A fairly standard effect in most modern clothes.

As you approach they only casually seem to notice your approach and stand aside to let you enter the office. Inside you find a small, but lavishly furnished, office filled with warm orange light from a few lamps. A fireplace also crackles with flames keeping the inside warm. There is a red velvet couch and a large dark wood desk. Behind the desk is a red leather chair and 4 large vidscreens showing security feed from around the compound.

In the chair sits a muscular, but well dressed, demon. His red skin matches much of the interior decorating here. His hair is jet black and slicked back. Outside of his dark grey suit you see two large leathery red wings protruding from his back. He spins around in his chair and you see a thin smile cross his face. His grin seems to try and convey a warm greeting, but his demonic nature makes it look far more insidious. Ah, you must be Tymora's crew. Welcome! Welcome. I've been expecting you. I hope the trip wasn't too terribly difficult.

Breecha takes position by the door, a habitual move that mimics the guards outside the office. He is silent, and still; not even his red optics flicker.

Mack smiles, opening his arms in an expansive gesture. "Hello, we are Tymora's crew and thank you for having us. The trip was, thankfully, a non-event. I'd like to apologize for giving your gate guard a hard time. We didn't know protocol with regards to your associates and didn't want to presume." Mack takes up position a respectful distance from the desk, in the center.

No trouble at all. You can buy men's loyalty, but sometimes you just can't buy their manners, Daemon says. His smile somehow seems to widen even further. Almost unnaturally so.

Now as requested I have a care package for you, as soon as I see the credit transfer. Sounds like your team really needed some supplies. Of course Tymora always has such a way of tugging at my heart strings, he says, placing a hand almost mockingly where his heart would be, So let's just consider this an... investment... into your continued mercenary work.

Kessel steps forward with the datapad, poised to transfer the credits. "Not meaning any disrespect, but may we inspect the supplies before I make the transfer?" He has one ear cocked to the comm feed he has hacked, alert for any trouble.

Yes, yes. All is well my good man. Tymora still knows how to pick the cautious ones, he says. Snapping his fingers a small imp creature pops into existence next to him. The small creature is holding a small rugged looking backpack. The imp hands the bag to Daemon and vanishes as abruptly as it had appeared.

Daemon opens the bag and spreads the contents across his desktop in an organized fashion. It appears to be all of the promised goods. A small amount of supplies for me really, though even for Tymora I can only spare so much at such a reduced cost. But as I said consider this my investment into you, he states, the smile never leaving his face. He repackaged the back and zips it up, Now, if you would be so kind...

Breecha expands his audio receptors, scanning low through high frequencies to see if anything can be picked up that would signal trouble in this otherwise simple transaction.

Kessel waits for Mack's go-ahead, then initiates the credit transfer.

[Note to Breecha]

[Note to Kessel]

Preserver has followed the crew and takes a post similar to BR33CH, though he maintains his more casual demeanor compared to the larger bot.

"It appears everything is in order then. Kessel do you want to send through the credit?" Mack smiles a businesslike smile. "As to the investment, I'm guessing there might be something on your mind you would like us to do? Otherwise, it seems like a low isk transaction wouldn't require your direct involvement..."

Kessel gives the thumbs up as the credit transfer completes, and waits for Daemon to confirm receipt. He is relieved that, based on the radio chatter he's been listening in on, there doesn't seem to be any double crosses going down, but he stays alert.

Breecha remains still, like a statue. His optics scan the room this time, for any visual clues that stands out enough to warrant further attention.

Daemon's grin remains plastered on his face. Right to the point Mack, I like that. Indeed there is something I could use your talents for. You see one of my clubs was hit today. A small little strip joint that was a small front for more grandiose business dealings, he says as he makes a large gesture with his hands. They come up above his shoulders and seem to frame the vidscreens behind him.

As he finishes talking the 4 large vidscreens change their images. Each one shows video feed from the club you knocked over earlier. Each camera freezes on a frame showing each individual party member wreaking havoc inside the club. As you can see, the direct video feed came right here. It was actually quite an impressive job. Luckily for you I have a million of these business fronts, and the bugbear was nothing more than my cousin's idiot friend. His body guard I was hoping would be spared, but he should have figured out he was outmatched sooner.

He brings his arms down and tents his fingers together. Normally I would simply have killed you on the spot, but I enjoy your destructive...panache. If you would be so kind as to do a small job for me, I would be much appreciated, he finishes, the devilish smile has never once left his face.

Mack's businesslike smile turns into a grimace as he watches the footage. "To be fair it was the goblins who brought out the grenade, we just thought we would roll with what fate dealt us, after our somewhat misinformed decision to go in shooting." He gestures to Kessel, "Unfortunately a slip up with the city network gave us a timetable where it made sense to play it fast and, uh, shooty."

Mack tries a smile again, "And I happen to know our calendar has some room in it... So I'm sure we would be happy to help."

Breecha begins recording the conversation at this point, including what's visible.

Good, I'm glad we see eye to eye, Daemon says, his gaze fixed on Mack as he squirms under the sight of the vidfeed images still on the screens behind the chair. He reaches into the top drawer of his desk and produces a small data chip and inserts it into a small device on his desk. The vidscreens clear and a few scanned documents and layouts appears. The seem to be building schematics.

You see even for those in the line of business I'm in, there is plenty of competition out there. Rival gangs, entire competing operations. It seems just like the corporate sector, making a living out here is getting hard, he says. He turns and gestures to his office, Well, at least harder. This building on the screen here is the hideout of an up and coming gang. They are known so far only as the sixers. Normally these startups are easily pushed out of the market we have going here, but this group has become... persistent. I want to send them a little gift.

At this he produces a small item, that you recognize as a small anti-matter explosive. Though small, the device has enough power in it to level a small factory, such as the one displayed in the images behind Daemon. He slides it across the table. The task is simple enough, get inside the factory of the sixers, place this device in roughly the center of the structure, hit the timer, and run like hell. It practically takes care of itself.

Breecha's optics focus on the device, capturing its image and dimensions into memory for later specification retrieval (and instructions). He also dedicates a portion of his processors to looking up any information on the Sixers, including possible reference to, or etymology of, the name itself.

Of course, he isn't too concerned if he cannot find any data at this point. There will be time for more research later.

Kessel makes a mental note to reach out to his contacts to get the lowdown on these Sixers. He also makes a mental note to have a word with Tymora about sending them to the den of the owner of the club they just trashed!

"Seems straightforward enough. But I'd rather go in with a bit more information. Are you the person we pester with our questions? Like who are these Sixers, and what does their floorplan look like? What are the security measures in place? What time frame are we talking about? What's the pay - or is this all goodwill - and it is a LOT of goodwill..." Mack has been ticking the questions off on his fingers as he states each in turn. He smiles, good-naturedly and gestures with his hands, "I'm sure you can imagine the inconvenience we would have if we had another conversation like this with someone farther up the crime lord food chain..."

Preserver shifts uncomfortably at the thought of having to rack up a higher body count. He wants to connect to the police database and research the Sixers to find out what crimes they may have committed, but he imagines Daemon wouldn't like it if the authorities traced the access back to this location.

[passed note to Breech-a]

Daemon's smile broadens a bit. He removes the chip from his desk and tosses it over to Mack. There is full schematics on that, security seems fairly low from what we have seen. There will be pay, I'm nothing if not a fair gangster. You have your supplies, which should be more than enough to do the job. He flips a switch on his desk and the vid feeds behind him go black. There is no need for ill will here. I should kill you all where you stand for what you did to my club, but you seem to have a skill for combat. To show you there are no hard feelings I will give you use of my two guards out there. Elphi and Leon, their skills ought to help you get your task accomplished easily.

BR33CH-A remains still. The idea of having inter-departmental escorts always rubbed his circuitry the wrong way. While he does not doubt their combat ability having survived in the employ of this gangster, BR33CH-A questions whether they have their own agenda besides lending a helping hand.

"Fair enough -- we'll go review this. If we decide we could make use of Elphi and Leon, we'll swing by and ask very politely for their help. But for now, I suspect the crew would like to review the information and make sure we don't have another... borderline fiasco to add to our list of accomplishments."

Mack looks at the others. "We good to go folks?"

Deamon considers your words and nods a silent agreement with the terms of the deal.

Preserver nods towards Mack and says, "Sounds workable. Ready to move out."

Kessel grins and gives a thumbs up. "Good to go, chief!"

Figuring 2 out of 3 counts for a majority, Mack nods. "Let's get, then." He nods to Daemon, "Thank you for the opportunity -- we'll be in touch." With that, Mack will head back out, intent on picking up his weapons and getting the crew back to base to consider how to review the information and gather what's necessary to ensure a smoother operation.

Breecha finally moves, detaching from his position and being the last to leave the room. He will pick up whatever supplies remain to be retrieved and carry it to the van.

Gathering up your stuff Leon and Elphi give you one final parting nod as you walk out the door, through the warehouse, and out to your van. It's still parked where you left it. You now have your new supplies from the deal as well as the small anti-matter explosive. You are free to exit the compound and go where you please.

I've already sent a message to Tymora updating her with how things went. It mostly just said 'badly', PHANTOM chimes in over comms, breaking his silence during the meeting, We may need to discuss her choice in contacts in the future.

GM: You have now added the following supplies to your group supplies:

- 5 healing stims
- 100 rounds of sidearm ammunition
- 100 rounds of SMG ammunition
- 40 shotgun shells
- 2 Incendiary Grenades
- 1 Timed Anti-matter Explosive

Did we just want these to stay in the group stuff for now or do people want to add them to character sheets for themselves?

In the interest of keeping the stash thread clean and readable, I'll post what Breecha requests here:
7 bullets to refill his pistol, plus another 30 for two extra clips
4 shotgun shells
1 healing stim

I'll add these to my character sheet, and the stash thread can be updated accordingly.

GM: Perfect, I updated the stash. Maybe we could use the OOC thread for requests? I've never run a game with a group stash, but it seems useful for this type of game.

Mack ensures everyone's piled into the van and drives, casual-like, back to home base. He notes to Kessel and the others, "Be careful how much hacking you do from home -- we don't need the cops on us like last time. If we're going to do some nosing around that might cause trouble, consider some sort of net cafe or something."

I'll stick to public forums initially and leave you guys to figure out what to make of the data Daemon provided." Preserver starts researching the area that their targets claim. He starts by searching for restaurants in the area and then moving ot news feeds and eventually to police reports. Since he;s sticking to public records, he's probably being overly cautious, but better to do it this way then trigger some kind of alert with a direct search.

[ note to preserver ]

Breecha sits quietly in his assigned place in the back of the van. As the team drives, he sends an encrypted message to Tymora documenting the completion of their mission and their impending return. The team can see the notification of message delivery in their HUDs and read the message if they so choose:

Subject: Cargo Secured. Message Body: Payment Delivered. Returning To Base. Message Addendum: Have Received Demand For Service From Supplier. Recorded Audio/Visual Files Available For Upload. Attachment Image: [Snapshot of Daemon's grinning face]

Pulling into our hidey-hole, Mack shifts the van into park and exhales heavily. "I really need to learn how to talk my way out of crap like this better." Looking towards Kessel and the warforged in the back he says, "Do you net-goblins want to dig around and see what you can find before we meet to discuss the plan?"

Breecha busies himself with unloading the supplies from the van. Meanwhile, a portion of his processors dedicate themselves to drawing up schematics for personal upgrades; he will run these by Kessel and Tymora when there is an opportunity.

"Well, my research has confirmed what Daemon has said about the Sixers is true. Not that we had a reason to doubt based on his relationship with Tymora. What I'm saying is that I believe we are confronting a typical street gang with little power or reach beyond the portion of the neighborhood they are able to hold through fear and violence. This is unlikely a conspiracy, actual "honest" work."

Preserver helps BR33CH-A unload the van. "Now we just need to go over the intel we got to get the specifics of this job."

"Advisory: Reconnaissance," monotones Breecha. "Determine Capabilities In Numbers, Armament, Protection, Magic. We Have Location Of Target And No Deadline To Complete Task."

Breecha places the last of the supplies in the garage, and adds, "Query: Factory History, Original Owner And Purpose."

Mack nods, "Quite right, Breech. Those are good suggestions. I'm no shadow dancer, but I can keep quiet when I need to, usually. I suppose I could do the initial recon -- some random smuggler nosing around may not generate too much suspicion." He shrugs, "Though, I'm happy enough if someone else wants to take that job."

Tymora walks into the room as you are unloading supplies and chews her lip for a minute, seeming to search for the words to say. Alright, so from the videos Breech-a gave me things could have gone...better. Sorry guys, I didn't even know Daemon had connections to clubs in that part of town, she picks up a tool from a nearby workbench and idly fiddles with it.

From the sounds of it Preserver at least thinks it's just legitimate grunt work. If there is anything I know Daemon values more than money it is solid contractors. Maybe we can gain an ally and take out a local nuisance at the same time?

"You couldn't have known all of his dealings, Tymora. We don't blame you. And it was perhaps our association with you that abated his desire to retaliate and got us this job. So it likely all balanced out in the end."

Mack nods with Preserver, "I agree. Someone like Daemon has his fingers and horns in too many pies to keep track of, or the cops would have taken him down." He idly toys with his 'guns' and adds with a grin, "And perhaps we can be some solid contractors -- but I do think that suggests we should be a bit more careful this time around. The frontal assault was fun and all, but perhaps we could learn a little more collective finesse."

Breecha loudly steps with heavy weight to his recharging station and sits with a loud CLANG.

With a grin, Kessel points discreetly at Breecha as he whispers to Mack, "I think you hurt the big guy's feelings."

Mack shrugs, "Hard to say.. I thought he was still miffed at Tymora."

"It seems like we know these are a legit target. Breech," Mack calls, "any particular tactical elements we need to lock down before we roll?"

"Query: Unit Conducting Reconnaissance?" asks Breecha, referring to the group as a whole. "Advisory: Scout Surrounding Area. Infiltration Route. Observation Posts. Extraction Route. Cross-Reference Available Security Feeds. Traffic Cameras. Determine Pattern Of Movement In Area."

Breecha starts to bring up a satellite map of the factory and its location on a large monitor. An overlay of streets lights up to illustrate vehicular routes. Topography is extracted for line-of-sight. Breecha begins speaking to the garage computer for additional processing power to calculate good angles to watch the factory from a distance.

"Blend In."

Mack nods. "Thanks -- this is helpful and gives me a list of things to look at, since I think I won the blend in contest." He considers, "Nimbus," he asks the computer, "do we have any intel on that part of town. Is it a place where I can walk around and expect to be left alone as long as I'm minding my business or do I have to be sneaky?"

Nimbus chimes in over the comms, It's a fairly low-brow part of town where any old drifter or weirdo is welcome. You should fit right in, Mack. Though open firefights will eventually draw in some peacekeepers, they have been steering clear of this part of town since the sixers moved in. They still maintain some patrols in the area, but it really is limited, so don't expect much help from others in the area.

After a few more moments Nimbus adds, Also maybe bring smaller ordinances. Large openly carried weapons may bring about undue notice either from stray peacekeepers, or from sixers themselves.

"Well, unarmed is more my style. You sure you wanna go this alone, pardner?"

"Proposition: This Unit Will Remain In Vehicle," says Breecha. "Keep In Communication Range. Station To Deploy For Backup As Needed. Unit Can Monitor Situation From Proximity."

"I agree. Nothing says heavy ordnance than a Br33ch-A unit. "

"My recent system upgrades could prove of value. I could become a cat, or a stray dog and perform recon that way." There is an excited, almost giddy, tone to what Preserver is saying, and a big dumb grin that tells you he hasn't really thought about this plan, he just wants to try out his new trick.

Mack looks at Preserver, "Really? That sounds interesting. I guess if you're a cat or a dog it doesn't matter if you're particularly sneaky -- because you're just a cat or a dog." He scratches his cheek, distracted like, "I'm not excited about the idea of skulking around, if you think it'll work Preserver, let's go with you. Breech's plan is a good one -- we can get the van in and Kessel, Breech and I can hang out in back as the cavalry in case you need support."

"Roger that!" the bot says excitedly.

"When do we leave?"

"This Unit Is Ready For Deployment," says Breecha. As he sits in the charging station, a monitor above his head begins to display his query into public records of The Sixers such as news articles or blog posts. Another search is looking for events taking place in the neighborhood that may affect their reconnaissance.

Given that his processors aren't the greatest when it comes to cross-referencing materials, the progress is slow and deliberate. One might get the feeling that Breecha is doing it not only for the off-chance that some suitable intel could be gleaned, but to also pass the time.

"I'm ready to go."

Mack looks around. "I guess we can go now if there's nothing else that needs doing. Perhaps we can hit that noodle joint over on Gothmag Boulevard on our way over. That old kobold knows how to spin some tasty noodles and his noodle soup makes my mouth water."