"Steady self." Tarasik spoke, placing a heavy hand on Billy's shoulder.
"Being violent will make us into thr monsters they want us to be. Even if it is deserved." Finished the Russkin, giving Nefrassi a measured look.
"We're ticking along, for now," Walter replied calmly as to the 'what they were doing' comment. Helping people seemed a pleasant enough way to pass the time and soothe the conscience. "While Aldebonia may have some different customs to Mercia, you clearly have powers that are...less common. It seems crimes - no matter how high - would be a waste of such talents when events can manipulated at higher levels." People too, with the correct spell.
"Quite right," Nefrasi says to Sir Walter, after acknowledging Djon's comment with a simple nod. Billy he attempts to ignore, but it's not hard to see he's still a little intimidated by the Billy's attempt earlier, and the fact that the group had backed up their words with might.
"And perhaps, it is merely a way for me to pass the time, in a life too long. Or perhaps, perhaps I use this venture to fund grander things."
Nefrasi stands suddenly, frighteningly quickly. So fast Billy almost starts letting bullets fly again. But he does not initiate any hostility.
"The matter and hand, gentlemen. It seems you have a problem with some endeavor of mine or other. Kindly tell me what this is so we can work out an arrangement whereby I can continue business without worry of more hostilities between us."
"A simple enough matter," Walter replied with a dismissive gesture. "We understand you've been making some people in Old Town offers that they find hard to refuse. We were hired on there behalf to refuse such offers - firmly, if needed, which of course could cost a great deal more to yourself than simply offering fair market value. Of course, we have no objection to commerce, the buying and selling of properties. Our task is to make sure there is no undue pressure to make sure one side or the other gets an especially good rate. Obviously, this is something of a standing arrangement, to make sure good will and charity is held by all in the highest of regards."
In short, 'stop trying to force people out or we'll start making counter offers.' It didn't look like the man needed to use intimidation to get what he needed here, he was simply cutting costs. Make it too expensive and he'd forget the whole deal. The whole 'blood drinking' thing might be a rumour, or it might be something else. It wasn't relevant here.
...hopefully.
"What my friend here says is true. As many quarrels as I might have with folk like you, for both our sakes it's best if this don't come to blows. If we can work out an arrangement, I'll stick by it."
"Will to be coming back if trouble, but would prefer not to." Tarasik half-threatened and half-assured.
Dion looks lazily toward the crime boss. He makes swirly motions with his finger near his temple.
You seem startled, distracted... is it the voices in your head? Has Nefrasi been a bad boy?
And you guys, making deals without me... Screw it, I'm in for two silver.
The pale gangster seems ready to hiss at Djon; in fact he might have, but for the very motivating words of the others.
"You make good sense, of course. The attempts of which you speak were merely good natured competition, anyway. For you see, my rivals, notably Solzoni and Cassik, have their gangs making similar moves into Old Town. The one who's able to control redevelopment of those decrepit structures stands to make millions in the not too distant future, as industry continues to grow."
"But perhaps, with your presence, the three of us and any lesser players could sit down with the land owners and work out something more beneficial. IF you can help keep the peace between rival gangs. For it has been our way that violence must be met with equal or greater violence."
Interesting, you may be the hope this place is looking for.
The others just said if we killed you, they would each pay half of a rather hefty sum. Djon smailes.
I asked how we'd get close enough but, you solved that problem. Spreading his arms, Hollow indicates the current situation.
Walter sighed loudly. He had no idea was this 'Djon' fellow was playing at, but it seemed like a silly game. Still, he'd helped Walter's comrade, and that meant he at least owed him a chance to play before kicking the board over.
Bladis Nefrasi sits up in his chair prepared to spring into action, his fingernails now appearing more as claws that have sunk into the chair leather a bit. When no attack ensues, however, he regains his calm a bit. He's still very on edge, not having deduced where, exactly, Djon is coming from, so to speak, but he's secure enough for now to retain at least some calm.
"So you've met with my rivals in the underworld, eh? I fear they are no more trustworthy than I, nor less violent. Though, perhaps, they are less effective at it." He chuckles a bit, to lighten the mood, perhaps.
"Assuming you have decided not to finish me, here and now, perhaps we can set up this meeting, so that all parties might be heard and the situation resolved without further violence, to the profit of all."
"On this I believe we can agree," Walter said with a nod. Hopefully Djon got the hint. If he really wanted to kill all these people then surely the man would want them to gather where one well placed bomb, shell or spell could remove an entire cities worth of villainy.
Tarasik didn't exactly like the idea of 'working with' this man, but he would... Tolerate it. He took another good hard look at him, thinking deeply about just what the perhaps-not human criminal lord wanted to achieve.
It seems to Tarasik that at least, it can be discerned that Nefrasi does intend to treat such a meeting with legitimacy. Your team has proven that it can defeat him and his cohort. If he is up to something more, it's a long game.
Towards Walter and Billy, Tarasik gave them a firm nod. For Djon, he... Looked at rather sternly, but otherwise did nothing.
Trusting the giant implicitly, Walter nodded. "Then let us make arrangements. In order to make sure such a meeting occurs on neutral ground we shall procure a location and provide security. Our task doesn't benefit if one group or another holds sway, only that our clients get a fair deal. If you would be so good as to give us a list of addresses and participants in this matter, and a date that would work for yourself, we shall proceed accordingly."
Djon smiles, his mood as mercurial as the shadows in which he prefers to lurk. His associates well know he favors intrigue and machinations - mind games, even in testing the proverbial waters.
The shadow-man sits ever so still upon a leather high stool, arms crossed. Even as his silence communicates agreement, his eyes surveil their surroundings.
Other than the lavish splendor of the furnishings and decor, and the picturesque windows looking out over the city, Djon notices little.
Nefrasi continues. "Like myself, my rivals in illicit dealings have no "home address" so to speak; merely places they might be. Cassik can often be found on the East End. Solzoni, perhaps in the back of the meatshop that bares his name, some six blocks away. Either can also often be found on the docks, as you found me. I believe you are familiar with Cassik's territory, as I noted two of his men riding away in the carriage you came out of. Solzoni's is near his."
"And I assume, since you were contracted by the merchants of Old Town, that you know how to find the relevant men there as well."
"Now, after mind battle, I am a bit exhausted. You would not mind showing yourself out, would you?"
"Certainly. I'm sure we'll be in touch, one way or another," Walter agreed as he rose, smoothing his clothing out. Most of Walter's magic was combat related, designed to rend life, flesh and spirit with equal abandon. But he did have a few spells that would allow him to gain information, if needed. "Come, gentleman, let us retire for now."
Dion, looking our the window seems nearly tempted to use it as an exit. Deciding against it, he joins the others.
With a slight silent bow, he takes his leave.
Quietly, the Russkin lumbers behind the two men.
"Gladly."
Billy ambles along with the rest of the group.
"Well, that was an thoroughly interestin' exchange with a thoroughly unpleasant fella. Can't say I'm entirely happy about helpin' the criminal underworld, but I guess the big city's got ways of makin' demons of all of us."
Over the next day, the group manages to scout out a neutral location in Shicagopolis in which to hold the meet. An area of Cremonesi Market strong presence of any of the three main crime families involved in the dispute, nor any relative of the big players in Old Town.
Setting up the meet with the other bosses is not difficult; Djon has a contact within the Solzoni organization, and Sir Walter and Tarasik have already met with Cassik's East Enders. The meet is set for the following day.
Tarasik seems intent on spending his free time for the evening cleaning and polishing his bludnerbasher, and perhaps indulging in the contents of his vodka. Yet rather then take off right away, he lets his companions (and Djon) know that he was free to accompany them anywhere if they had something else in mind.
I'm no big fan of any of these jokers, you understand... but if I facilitate a meeting, I'll need to assure their safety.
You boys got any issue with that?
"Ensure how?" He asked/
"I believe it should be a case where, within these walls, none shall be harmed. As arbitrators the duty to ensure punishment if this rule is broken falls to us." Of course, if anyone was stubborn, then nothing said they couldn't be followed back to there stronghold and said building be struck by lightning 10 times a minute for the next hour until the message was made very clear.
Djon indicates Walter with a toss of his head, What he said.
There is obviously something bigger going on here, we've only scratched the proverbial surface. I don't know if we'll like what we find out.
But, that's neither here not there. The die is cast.
Thoughtfully, Sorry to catch you all off guard back there... seems I've gotten used to working alone. I just wanted to get him off balance and judge his reaction... he needed to see we were serious and not to be trifled with.
One thing you can... count on. I'll always have your backs.
The day dawns cloudy and rainy as the team heads over to the market area. The meet is in an old barn that's been converted for shopping stalls, county fairs and the like. In the back is an area for food vendors (away from the general public) that's not yet open for the day, and the area has been "reserved" for the meet.
Aleks Owans, the head of the Old Town Business Organization, and his contingent, the ones who enlisted Deana to in turn hire you, are the first to Arrive. Red-haired Deana is with them as well.
"Greetings," Walter said with a courtly bow to his current employer. "Ah, Lady Deana, a pleasure to see you again. As I'm sure you're aware by now we decided that a velvet glove to hide the iron fist of our approach would be sensible. We've given some of those who were causing the most issues a small sample of why they can no longer do so, and now we're going to make that permanent. In the long run it will be simpler and easier to make them police this agreement, as we may not be around to police it forever." The military would come sniffing, eventually, and even Walter struggled to deal with an artillery battery. "Now, if you could make it clear what your needs are then we shall see about arranging them."
Tarasik has his hands clasp firmly in front of him, absently turning the ring through his gloves. His hammer-headed riffle hung just barely out from his jacket, and he made no effort to hide it's presence. Even with people like Walter and Billy here to do the talking, he was well prepared for the chance of things going straight to hell in a hand basket. It wasn't that he ever wished for there to be bloodshed, it's simply more beneficial to ones health in the long run to always expect it.
Billy tips his hat to Deana, "Ma'am."
Next to arrive was Solzoni. He wears a simple straw boater hat with a green and red striped band around it and a cheap dimestore white suit. His short stature belies an almost dwarven musculature.
Tarasik notices a brief moment of recognition pass through the gangster's eyes as he notes Djon's presence, but he says nothing.
Solzoni nods at Owans and slaps him on the shoulder as he walks by. Owans only scowls in return.
Solzoni's crew wears similar but not matching suits, mostly rumpled and uncared for, save one: a particularly tall man, slender but who walked like a seasoned soldier.
Noting the warrior among the new arrivals as the first to get his will crushed, Walter nodded a greeting. "Very good. If you gentleman would like to take your places at the table, we shall begin when all parties have arrived."
Djon had relegated himself to "oversight" staying away from any center that was formed and surveilling the gathering, from the perimeter.
He nods to any that know him, this is after all a civil society and the purpose of the gathering is to maintain a peace of sorts.
Walter and Billy were always better with people, be it with words or actions. So Walter leading discussions made sense.
Djon himself preferred to engage only out of necessity and operate from the fringe. It's not that he didn't like or even love his fellow man, he did. But, so many could not save themselves from their baser natures.
And, it took time and energy to separate the wheat from the chaff.
A glance towards Djon saw that the recognition was mutual, making him feel all the more curious and suspicious. He'd press him on it all later, if it came to it.
Finally, someone recognizable by Sir Walter and Tarasik, Dean Morgan, and another couple East Enders, enter, heralding the entrance of their boss, the gang lord John Cassik. Cassik has thick black hair and fair skin, common traits for the minority people of an isle Northeast of Britandlend, whereby his name originates.
Cassik does not so much walk as saunter over to an empty section of table, taking in each person in the room with a piercing, confident gaze. He almost drops his weight into a seat pulled back from the table, and and leans back in relaxed posture.
The main players, Nefrasi, Solzoni, Cassik, and the Old Town residents contingent, are all present now. None initiates any conversation with any of the others beyond unspoken body language. Each of them eyes the PCs, this mysterious (to them) group of forces who has displayed a level of power they would have deemed incomprehensible mere days earlier.
"Excellent, thank you all for coming," Sir Walter said graciously as though he wouldn't have ruined there lives until they did what he wanted, "To start, please be aware that this meeting is under our stewardship, and that while voices may get raised weapons may not. We will enforce this vigorously. Now, as I'm sure we're all aware, we have gathered here today to institute some rules on behalf of our clients in regards to the purchase of property, especially the setting of market value and the application of encouragement towards that end. Would anyone like to add anything else to this little agenda, while we're all here?"
Jon doesn't turn to his audience, when he speaks... nearly musing out loud as he moves unhurried from perch to perch around the venue, taking in the meeting from all angles.
Our... suggestion, would be for open and honest discourse. We understand that may leave some with little to say. But, we can try, eh?
Lies and lies of omission will be identified. So, let's save everyone some time.
Once a lie is identified, the truth will be sought out, nay... hunted down. And sometimes, there is simply not enough time to be gentle about it.
My sincerest hope is that everyone here comes out a winner.
Carrik begins, his lilting voice an echo of his homeland.
"Well, I've heard my man Morgan tell me stories of your grand powers and abilities, and Nefrasi seems impressed, but honestly, I'm still not sure why we shouldn't cap you all right here. Who the hell are you guys to come into our territory and start givin' orders?"
"Simple professionals, here to do a job," Walter said with a smile, as laid both hands on the table and channeled his powers into the table. "But do we need to resort to impressive displays of might and power to talk as reasonable men? Surely we can settle this with our words and our deeds and leave violence to those of a baser nature than our own. Think of us not as giving orders, but reasonable suggestions it would be unwise to go against." Still smiling, he looked down at the table.
Tarasik eyed Walter suspiciously at the blatant display of witchcraft, but said nothing. No need to risk seeming as though they were at odds with one another.
Billy sits, meticulously cleaning his gun.
"What my companion says is true. We ain't here with stakes in the matter, nothin' to gain from sortin' things out."
He spins the chamber and holsters his pistol with a flourish, "If things do go south though, we ain't gonna be the ones shippin' out in a pine box."
Djon raises a brow, these idiots have been showing off... Damn it Walt! And, here again?
The land and people have spoken and thus whimsical spirits have made themselves known.
You are all here of your own volition, and so you may choose to leave. None will stop you.
You will either have a say or not in any covenant that may be forged here, the choice is yours.
But, it does remind me of something a teacher would drill into my thick skull. "If you're not part of the solution, you're most likely part of the problem."
I never like that prick, but sometimes he had the right of it.
"Only want what is best," Tarasik grunts. "It best if all work toguther to acheive ends."
At this point, Deana gets up to leave; she has work to do back at the offices of the Daily Telegraphia, several blocks away.
Cassik dips one shoulder and gestures with his had, as if to say Fair enough. Sir Walter's theatrics is not lost on him, and his bodyguard has his eyes firmly fixed on Billy and his six-shooter.
Nefrasi interjects, at this point.
"These men put forth we develop a reasonable agreement for purchasing this land, rather than our usual methods. Perhaps Mr. Owans and his contingent could give us an idea of what constitutes a reasonable offer, since our others have been rejected."
Aleks Owans confers with with one of the other Old Town businessmen.
"I think a reasonable opening bid would start at 50 million, all things considered."
The conversation goes on for hours, the various men bickering back and forth about minutia of property values, potential values, and required earnings to recoup cost. At times, the conversation gets a bit heated, the occasional veiled threats are made, and one of the PCs has to interject with a counter-threat to calm things down.
The group is just getting ready to break for lunch, progress having been made but nothing permanently decided, when a noise like thunder combined with a crashing train echoes throughout the area.
Nefrasi abruptly stands and cocks an ear, and and sniffs the air. "There's been some sort of attack, near the border between Old Town and the Business Loop, if I make my guess."
"An attack? From who onto whom, one wonders." The giant ponders, flancing briefly for the door before his eyes sweep the room. If someone was looking less surprised then they ought too, he would know.
All the participants seem shocked and concerned, in their own way. In fact, each of the three mobsters has looked accusingly at the other, but seem to have mentally absolved each other, as well.
"One o' the small-time bosses, maybe?" Cassik asks out loud.
"Which of them would dare have the courage for this?" Nefrasi asks. "A bombing will bring the federal enforcement down on all our heads. If whoever did this is local, they would be as good as dead, just from our retribution alone. I submit perhaps revolutionaries, either the slave traders from the south, their opponents, or perhaps someone from the Old Country, trying to make a point."
The girl... might be too obvious.
Have your people call their people... Let's do this again, sometime. Djon is ready to go.