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1.0 - The Lion, The Witch, and the Demon
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.
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...
Perception - (1d20+3)
( 8 ) + 3 = 11
[Note to Breecha]PhantomNimbus sent a note to CancerMan
[Note to Kessel]PhantomNimbus sent a note to Jabes.plays.RPG
Perception - (1d20+3)
( 12 ) + 3 = 15
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.PhantomNimbus sent a note to CancerMan
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 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."
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.
Of course, he isn't too concerned if he cannot find any data at this point. There will be time for more research later.
Investigation - (1d20-1)
( 13 ) - 1 = 12