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Huntarr shoulders his shotgun and unlimbers the hunting rifle as he moves into position to see both the Heron/Widower fight and the Steel Clock.

(If there are balconies or anything like that, Huntarr will grapnel his way up to them.)

Huntarr shakes his head.

"No. We may still save him. Let's find the Heron. I have a bad feeling about all of this. We'll leave him here for now. It's not as if he'll go anywhere if we fail."

Huntarr looks around for anything indicating where the Heron or Vulpa might be.

Huntarr nods to Auraxis and moves closer.

"Lar'ax Melua, can you hear me?"

Huntarr tries to figure out how he is wounded before he touches the man.

Huntarr frowns beneath his helm. This was much too easy.

"Be on guard. This has to be some kind of trap. Master Illidan, do you sense anything?"

Huntarr moves towards Melua, his shotgun ready.

Huntarr has no desire to debate any of this and moves towards the door that no one has been through yet. He knew that the enemy must have heard the fighting, and that they were even now preparing a response.

"I'm moving on. We're wasting time arguing."

Huntarr approaches the door and opens it, shotgun held at the ready.

Huntarr attempts to disengage again.

1d100 ⇒ 56 vs 39

Huntarr empties the clip into the servitor that he's fighting, trying to get some breathing room.

1d100 ⇒ 16

Dodge 1d100 ⇒ 58 vs 49

Acrobatics 1d100 ⇒ 9 vs 39

Initiative 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Huntarr moves up the stairs to stand before the noble.

"Who are you, and what do you want?"

As he speaks, Huntarr continues to scan the crowd for any trace of their quarry.

Huntarr shows the picture to the others before moving out of the room.

"We better go, and quickly."

As they wait for transport to the Dark Revel, Huntarr will place an anonymous call to the Arbites that the Lady Melua was murdered by a foul Chaos creature.

(A Noblewoman with no Thrones at all? Makes no sense. How was she paying for the room?)

Huntarr swears softly at another life lost to this madness.

"No doubt that we will find that creature's master at the Dark Revel."

Huntarr searches the room for the woman's picture of her brother, along with anything else of value.

1d100 ⇒ 13

Success

"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it. Here."

Huntarr hands over the box directly to Papa Grist, and steps back a bit, seeming to shy away from the man with the hammer.

"I do not, as yet. But I'm sure the Lady Du'Landra Melua will have what you require. That's why we're going to see her after we meet with the Spider Bride."

Huntarr looks at the others.

"I think your prowess with the warp would be better served hunting for the young scion of House Melua. It's a huge city, but if we find him, we find the Heron. And the reward for his rescue, I suspect, will be quite substantial. More than enough to fund our future endeavours. Now come, time is passing us by at a rate that we can ill afford. Let us see what the Spider Bride can tell us."

Huntarr shakes his head.

"The target is the Spider Bride. Why isn't really important. Suffice it to say that I will not endanger our mission. I will not eliminate her until after we have the information we need. I'm also not drawing the group into my contracts. I will accomplish this task alone, though I appreciate the offer of assistance."

Huntarr hands the micro-bead back to Illidan, indicating that he has one of his own. He also copies Illidan's info to his own data-slate.

"As a matter-of-fact, I have another conundrum. It appears that Heron has kidnapped a scion of the House Melua. I have pledged my assistance to his sister to recover him, or avenge him. Since it dovetails so nicely with our own goals, she is putting together everything she knows about her family history and that of House Haarlock. We already know that Heron is after something involving that Lineage. We are to meet her in her rooms after nightfall this evening, so we should deal with this Spider Bride in an expedient fashion."

Huntarr seems to consider a moment before continuing.

"I have been hired to eliminate someone. In exchange, I will be given information on Marcus Vulpa and where to locate him. I think if we find him, he can lead us to the Heron. He may even help us in exchange for our forbearance towards the Beast House. He didn't seem too happy when he realized what Heron was up to."

Huntarr hands Illidan 8 Man-Stopper rounds.

"This is all I have to spare. May I suggest using them sparingly until we can gain a steady source of resupply?"

Huntarr will pay the 5 thrones for transportation to the Gardens.

Huntarr looks at all of them like they have lost their minds.

First he answers Auraxis:

"Look, I needed to be able to talk to people without some death cult slitch killing everyone that looks at her sideways. So yes, I had to do that alone. I make no apologies for that. If I have to do it again, then I will. Without hesitation. If that's a problem for you, then I'll be on my way."

"Now, the trail is growing colder as we stand here arguing. I suggest you all keep that in mind. Those Daemons can be destroying clues at this very moment. They're not going to just wait for us, you know."

Huntarr then turns and looks at Constantine.

"With all due respect, who are you, and why would I follow you anywhere?"

Finally, he answers Illidan:
"I know a place where we can hole up. The previous tenants won't need it anymore. They were eaten by those daemons that I mentioned earlier."

Huntarr chuckled at Illidan's statement.

"Good news. I picked up the trail of the Heron-masked Man. Bad news: I was attacked by daemons while I was trying to track it down. Of course, now I'm more sure than ever that I was on the right track. If we hurry, we might still find some clues. Are you with me?"

Huntarr slips the pistol away, and chases after the red robe, using the crowd and the chaos to mask his movements.

(My intention is to follow them until they get somewhere a little quieter. At that point he will approach them.)

Huntarr, upon seeing the pit fighter continuing to remain upright, decided that a little shooting might be in order.

1d100 ⇒ 84 vs 77

Spending a Fate Point to reroll.

1d100 ⇒ 82 vs 77

Huntarr sneers.
"You think I speak of mercy? On the contrary. I would use her for our own ends. As a distraction, and a lure to bring this 'Jackal' to us. I'm sure she knows which way he went. I have no doubt that she's been here before. Her guilt or innocence is meaningless to me. She's either useful, or she's food for the rats. Or she's both, since I'm not choosy."

He looks at the woman.

"What's it to be, wench? Her tender mercies, or mine?"

Huntarr watched the slaughter of the unarmed civilians with a rueful shake of his head. It wasn't that he gave a damn about them, but it was a waste of resources. No more meatshields. At least she hadn't wasted any ammo doing it.

"I hope you picked the right one to leave alive, if one is all you're going to interrogate."

(Are there any other doorways leading out of this area? If so, he will post himself there as a guard to keep watch. The sounds of combat are certain to bring more unwanted attention.)

Deception Roll: 1d100 ⇒ 14 vs 13

"Tough little skeever."

Huntarr fires again at the masked man.

1d100 ⇒ 59 vs 67

1d10 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Whether he hits or misses, he moves quickly to grab one of the guests and points his (now empty) gun at them.

"Surrender, or I start splattering them instead. They ain't wearing armor.

Huntarr, continuing his role camouflage, merely turns and walks away in the hopes that the guard follows to make sure that he returns to his post.

(Let me know when we get someplace that I can turn on him. I'm betting that he has the key card for the elevator.)

Huntarr puts on one of the suits of armor and conceals his pistol within it.

"I'm not interested in anything except the armor to protect my wounds. I'll give it to whomever wants it once we are done with this Emperor-forsaken pit."