Square Eagle
The bartender nods at the gentlemen and fulfills their requests. Tarasik's is smooth and cool, as expected. Sir Walter gets a whiskey of significantly lower quality than the one he had earlier that day, a lot more bite.
"You gentlemen new in town? Ain't seen you around here. Thought I knew all the vets. You boys involved in that little mess west of the border in '92?"
The Docks
As Billy nears the boathouse, he hears a commotion just on the other side. Moving round at a safe distance to get a look, he sees a familiar form skulking the the shadows near one very large, hulking opponent.
He knew better then to add in his own input, as much as he distrusted the man's magic, Tarasik distrusted his own mouth even more. Instead he satisfied himself with the deep chill his drink provided, hints of frost around the bottle's lip as it left his own. It was something considered more of a novelty spirit in these Western nations, but in his homeland it's said only the strongest of men partake of it in Russka's deepest winters. For him personally, it was a refreshing drink that warded away the summer's heat.
Truly, Tarasik was deeply confused at Walter's comment considering the drink in question.
"We saw a little bit of action, yes," Walter replied as he sipped the whiskey with a passive expression. He wondered if whatever Tarasik was drinking didn't have alcohol, because he'd never gotten one that didn't have some burn to it. "New-ish in town, too. Took us a bit to settle in, find lodging and work and the like."
Sipping again, he added, "In fact, it's work that brings us to your establishment, although the respite is certainly welcome too. Who might be able to tell us a little about the goings on around here, in the criminal sense? We have some services we need aid with that aren't as simple as one might like. Items from my old home that I'd prefer to ship inexpensively. You know how the tax man can be about such things."
Square Eagle
"Lots of folks here don't like the law-men over-much." the bartender said, nodding discretely to a couple different tables filled with ne'er-do-wells.
"Course, if yas happen to be in cahoots with the coppers, you're likely to wind up at the bottom of the river. Tread carefully. We don't play nice 'round here."
Walter smiled. "Oh, dear sir, the authorities are rarely our friends in any of our ventures. But your wise words of warning are well heeded - we'll make sure this does not get back to the tin ear of the law."
Glancing at the gestured tables, he nodded in appreciation of the fine collection of facial hair on display. His own whiskers always made him feel more secure. "Do you have a preference as to whom we speak with first, old boy?" One group of smugglers was much like another to Walter's mind.
Tarasik swishes the liquid in his mouth a few times, observinf the tables of surly men. Truly, he felt some kindred towards the bushy inclined. His father had a truly impressive set of whiskers, though his own face remained sadly barren. Perhaps he just has yet to grow into one yet. With a swallow, he gestures towards the group. "We take cha es there."
"A fine choice," Walter agrees without care, and took his drink over towards the table with the better facial hair. "I understand you gentleman are the ones to talk to if we would like to have some things imported discretely." He gestured to a free chair, requesting permission to sit.
Following behind Walter, he does his usual to look big and imposing like the sort've bodyguard a wealthy man may employ. The bottle he purchased, for now, goes into his coat pocket.
"Well, now," the mustached man with the black hat speaks first. Sir Walter immediately recognized his regional accent; a minority group from Northern Britanglend, probably an immigrant. "Ain't seen many o' your like round here. Guessin' you'll be importing somethin' fancy from Knightsbridge, then." His friends give a little chuckle, quieting quickly as they catch sight of Tarasik.
"Sure, friend, we handle some things down at the dock, providin' you're a friend o' John Cassik's, or willin' to be."
The Docks
As Billy nears the boathouse, he hears a commotion just on the other side. Moving round at a safe distance to get a look, he sees a familiar form skulking the the shadows near one very large, hulking opponent.
Docks
MapDjon and Billy, please roll for initiative.
Walter looked over at his giant ally. "That would depend entire on who that is. I like to know my friends before I owe them some favours, I'm sure you fine gentleman know how it is. Shall I buy us a round while you explain the situation to me?"
Billy notices Jon skulking in the darkness, and just as he's about to re-introduce himself to the stealthy warrior, he notices the more pressing issue of hulking opponent.
Square Eagle
The men have a chuckle at Sir Walter's expense. Once again, this is brief, given Tarasik's appearance. The men are visibly alert, ready to begin violence if the deem it necessary.
Their spokesman nods at the chair, acknowledging Sir Walter's request.
"I'm Dean Morgin. These here are the East Enders, a few of 'em. In case you hadn't noticed, the politicians in this town are too weak to keep make stuff work right, so a few powerful people have stepped in. Men like John Cassik. Some say Cassik's the MOST powerful of the lot. Others disagree. But either way, he pays Dean Morgin's bills," the man says, pointing his thumb back at himself "And keeps the East Enders well enough, right boys!"
Round of cheers from the others.
"So the way it works is, you want someone to help you down at the docks, with your 'imports', Cassik's your man. But you gotta agree to grease the palms, and to only work with Cassik."
The Docks
Hulking form:
Initiative Order:
Djon
Billy
Hulking form
"As you might imagine I fear I don't know many names," Walter said, filing away the mocking comments for later retribution, "So if I'm to be friends with one gentleman, and not with another, I would appreciate knowing who else I shouldn't associate with. I might open a branch of my family's business here, if the import routes are safe and cost effective, and I'd hate to do business with those I'm not supposed to and jeopardize my supply lines."
Square Eagle
Dean nods at the other table across the bar.
"Start with over there. Those are Solzoni's men. Solzoni is our biggest...competitor, shall we say."
As the men speak, Tarasik notices Dean hesitating very briefly, as if to consider saying something and dismiss it.
"Noted," Walter said without bothering to glance over. "Are there any other conditions to a business relationship? Other than don't talk to the guard and don't work with your competitors. I've heard people speak of another gentleman, a...Nilfasi? Nirfasin? Something akin. Is he another one we should avoid, or a friend to your operations?" Hopefully the mere mention of the man wouldn't terrify the poor smugglers, or else they'd try and bravado past it.
Djon dashes just out of the creature's reach and along the side of the warehouse... where he is hidden from the thing.
Tarasik frowns, and gives the man who spoke a pointed look. "Your words are clipped. What is that you are not telling?"
Square Eagle
The man's eyes dart first to Tarasik at his probing and, when Sir Walter mentions the bungled version of Nifrasi's name, they go wide with surprise. Tarasik, being more in tune with the man's emotions at the point, senses something additional: fear.
He tries quickly to cover it up. "Nefrasi? Yeah, he's another competitor. I HIGHLY recommend you never do business with him, regardless. He's an untrustworthy hack. Not even really part of the..."his voice trails off.
Docks
Billy draws his revolver and trains it on the hulking form saying, "Listen here, buddy, I'll give you two options. You walk away warm or end up lyin' here cold. I know which one I'd choose!"
Walter leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. "Oh, that sounds intriguing. I will be completely forward - we had no interest in working with him. His reputation is...vicious, violent, from what little was said. Not the sort I prefer to work with." He glanced at Tarasik. "Most of the time," he added. "Still, he sounds like the sort that has some tales spun around him. What is he not?" Slowly, slowly draw the information forth, like it was all there idea...
Docks
He turns and gives Billy a dead stare. It is fairly obvious no one is home upstairs. The beast turns and lumbers toward Billy, bridging the distance by 60'.
From behind the building, Djon waits a few seconds and notices he's not been followed.
Top of Round 2
Square Eagle
[ooc]After some behind the scenes dice rolling[/b]
"Well, he is all that, for certain. Despite Cassik's obviously dominant position in the market, he has certainly managed to make things tricky for us in the past."
"I heard he drinks blood," one of the others says without prompting. He gets a dirty look from dean and sort of shrinks back a bit. "I mean that's just what I heard."
"Well alright then big boy, seems I've got an answer!"
With that, Billy unloads a few rounds into the hulking figure.
Walter looked bemused. "Blood drinker, eh? Well, I've heard of some people who like to drink some strange things, but I think this is probably the oddest thing I would personally choose to ingest," he said with a small smirk. He had seen...things...in the war, in battles. Things he had been responsible. Things that made a little blood drinking rather less than terrifying. "Still, anyone so enraptured with the waters of life doesn't seem like the sort I would wish to do business with, at all, in any shape. How do I avoid his people and businesses? I want no part of his drinking habit."
Docks
Hmm... that's odd. Well, I never been accused of being too smart. Djon moves back, peeking around the corner for a looksee.
Docks
The bullets tear into the hulk, but it does not fall.
Djon hears Billy's shots ring out and see the creature lurch back on its feet at the shots. Amazingly, it seems unperturbed, lumbering on and not making any indication of pain.
Square Eagle
How do I avoid his people and businesses? I want no part of his drinking habit."[/b]
"Well, you stick to the western area of the docks, up river a bit, you'll be in Cassik's territory and you'll be fine. Don't go right on the East side of the docks though, or you'll run afoul of Nefrasi's goons. Particularly the big fella. What his name is, I don't know, but we call him Hefty Bob. Rip your head off as soon as talk to ya, or sooner. Not even the coppers go around when he's on the docks."
"You want a couple of the boys to take you down there, show you around?"
"Big fellow, is he? Bigger than my dear friend here?" Walter gestured to the impressively sized Tarasik. "I almost wish to visit just to see another man of that impressive stature. But yes, if you fine gentleman can show us around a little, I'll pay a deposit and get in touch with my family back home, get them to prepare what I need shipping."
The Russkin in question seems to almost preen at the comment. "Nobody is larger than Tarasik."
His eyes trail over the man, he had his suspicions that they didn't intend just some simple tour.
Square Eagle.
Tarasik assesses that they seem on the up and up, surprising as that is. They have no desire to endanger potential profits to their boss. They are a little shaken though, either about you or about this "Hefty Bob."
Dean points to two men. "Dexter, Slim, take our prospective clients to see Cassik down at the docks. And...take the way 'round Nefrasi's place. Don't want to give ol' Hefty any chance to cut our profits."
"Don't have to tell me twice," says man in the bowler. Slim and Dexter, the older, bearded fellow, lead you toward the door.
Draining his cup, Walter rose to his feet. "Excellent. We shall see you again, soon, I am sure." Nodding, he followed behind there escort.
A tilt of his head was given to the men before he made to follow his companion. He drew the cold bottle of drink from his coat and lightly bumped the elder with his elbow to get his attention. With a short nod as he relaxed his posture, Tarasik wordlessly got across that he didn't expect the man to give them any trouble.
Docks
Djon continues to move closer behind the creature, staying just out of the creature's reach.
Docks
Ignoring (or not noticing) Djon, the creature moves closes to within 5' of Billy and takes a swing with its muscular arms.
MISS
Top of Round 3
Tarasik and Sir Walter
The duo and their escorts are forced to wait for an open-topped coach to ride to the western end of the docks. The coach has gone several blocks when Sir Walter hears a pair of shots ring out in the direction of the docks.
The Russkin pauses, before smiling broadly and patting their escort heavily on his shoulder. "Ahah! Is lovely sound of city is it not? A gunshot at every corner. Know who might to be having some fun this evening?"
"I don't suppose there's any chance that's not in the direction we're going, is there?" Walter said in blasé fashion, clearly no more concerned by gunshots than his gigantic companion.
Moving in, Djon tumbles in an effort to avoid any opportunistic lashing out, by the hulk.
He comes up next to it and punching.
Docks
Djon's attack physically hit the creature, but was too weak to penetrate it's thick hide (i.e. it's slow, but you didn't overcome its AC)
Billy's Action
Tarasik and Sir Walter
"It does sound like it's coming from up ahead near the docks, doesn't it?" Dexter answers. "Maybe some of Solzoni's boys are gonna get what's comin' to 'em, eh Slim?"
Tarasik notices some sort of struggle going on a hundred yards in or so, near one of the boathouses. It looks like a large form looming over someone, though it's hard to make out exactly.
Billy continues firing at the hulking form, though to less success this time.
The creature is visibly damaged by Billy's second round of shots, but still manages to stumble forward, making one swipe at Billy and a second at Djon.
Billy
MISS
Djon
MISS
Walter glanced over and saw the hulking shape. "Intruiging, perhaps that's the fellow mentioned. Let's got take a look. Perhaps we can help out. Civically."
Docks
Out on the street, Walter calls for the driver to pull over to he and Tarasik can depart. Your escorts from the bar do not accompany you, mentally writing you off for dead but agreeing to hold the coach for you.
Top of Round 4
Djon's action.