Post by Porter on Mar 26, 2006 23:45:59 GMT -5
<< Disclaimer: This is a work in progress as I continue to flesh out my Shaman. Part of it is developed from his background and depending on how things go it may branch off into a campaign. Not sure yet though. >>
The Sun had started to emit harsher tone as several hours had past since the morning commute began. The stench of the fresh blood and scattered entrails had just started to venture forth from the alley’s entrance as it attempted to deter any from entering. If left unchecked, the area will become unbearable for even those people with the stomachs made of iron.
Fifty yards away, a stout dwarf remained crouched against the brick wall of a stuffer shack. His thick hands lifted a fresh soy burger to his lips while his bulbous nose scrunched up as the scent was detected. Cross started to wonder how long the mangled carcasses would remain before the area residents would become offended by the smell as he took a healthy bite out of the first meal of the day. A few crumbles dropped fell onto his trimmed beard when he licked his lips clean.
By the time he had devoured the remainder of the soy product, his internal communication link signaled his employer had left a voice message. The short message replayed internally, unheard by those within a few feet of him.
“Status report.” The familiar voice asked.
A deep grumble of disgust emitted from Cross at the request. Cross didn’t need to check his internal clock to know an hour had passed since the last report. A passing female elf glared to the dwarf as if he had been reacting to her present.
Cross dismissed her without much of a thought as he occupied himself with responding. “No change. Subject in same location.” With the message sent to his employer, Cross started to consume the remaining soy burgers that had started to become lukewarm.
He detested his employer hounding him every day, let along every hour. Their focus was amplified after Cross forwarded the video footage he had captured of the attack in the alley. As Cross eagerly finished the last few bites, he decided to review the file on his subject while he waited.
The basic information flashed into the corner of his field of vision, never letting his focus on the shop front waiver. There were names and alias, along with the few remaining family members and known contacts. There was a list of several addresses the subject could be found in Seattle and Louisiana. Cross’ employer even gave him data on what they knew the subject was magically capable of. The subject had an idea on how to cover his tracks but apparently Cross’ employer had more Nuyen and connections to make sure nothing was past their reach.
Usually Cross would not be curious about the reasons his various employers paid him to complete a job. On a typical job he would acquire information on his targets for his employers for various reasons. Sometimes it was used to gain leverage in a business deal or to rake someone’s image through the mud.
This job was simple as could be. His employer just wanted Cross to observe his subject. Cross received strict instructions not to interfere in any way with the subject. Cross was to watch and report the subject’s every action. If the subject became aware of his surveillance actions, Cross would not only lose the Nuyen he was offered, but his employer promised there would be other retributions made.
Things started to happen that were starting to peak his interest. Especially after the scene he witnessed this morning. Cross still was unsure who was responsible. A copy of the footage would be kept for himself at a later date just in case it could help turn a sizable profit for him.
The swarm of customers, all shapes and sizes had started to encumber travel by the time the mahogany door to the Eight Muse swung open. The moment they reached their resistance point, Cross had disposed of the trash in a nearby container and started to stroll in the shop’s direction. Erick emerged from the confines of the shop, his eyes narrowed to thin slits as he gingerly moved down the steps. The man’s long strides carried him effortlessly, merging his presence within the moving mass as he attempted to weave in between the bodies.
Based on the information he had been given, Cross had a pretty good idea where the subject was heading to. The dwarf kept pace with his subject, keeping a set distance behind him as they both negotiated the afternoon traffic.
The Sun had started to emit harsher tone as several hours had past since the morning commute began. The stench of the fresh blood and scattered entrails had just started to venture forth from the alley’s entrance as it attempted to deter any from entering. If left unchecked, the area will become unbearable for even those people with the stomachs made of iron.
Fifty yards away, a stout dwarf remained crouched against the brick wall of a stuffer shack. His thick hands lifted a fresh soy burger to his lips while his bulbous nose scrunched up as the scent was detected. Cross started to wonder how long the mangled carcasses would remain before the area residents would become offended by the smell as he took a healthy bite out of the first meal of the day. A few crumbles dropped fell onto his trimmed beard when he licked his lips clean.
By the time he had devoured the remainder of the soy product, his internal communication link signaled his employer had left a voice message. The short message replayed internally, unheard by those within a few feet of him.
“Status report.” The familiar voice asked.
A deep grumble of disgust emitted from Cross at the request. Cross didn’t need to check his internal clock to know an hour had passed since the last report. A passing female elf glared to the dwarf as if he had been reacting to her present.
Cross dismissed her without much of a thought as he occupied himself with responding. “No change. Subject in same location.” With the message sent to his employer, Cross started to consume the remaining soy burgers that had started to become lukewarm.
He detested his employer hounding him every day, let along every hour. Their focus was amplified after Cross forwarded the video footage he had captured of the attack in the alley. As Cross eagerly finished the last few bites, he decided to review the file on his subject while he waited.
The basic information flashed into the corner of his field of vision, never letting his focus on the shop front waiver. There were names and alias, along with the few remaining family members and known contacts. There was a list of several addresses the subject could be found in Seattle and Louisiana. Cross’ employer even gave him data on what they knew the subject was magically capable of. The subject had an idea on how to cover his tracks but apparently Cross’ employer had more Nuyen and connections to make sure nothing was past their reach.
Usually Cross would not be curious about the reasons his various employers paid him to complete a job. On a typical job he would acquire information on his targets for his employers for various reasons. Sometimes it was used to gain leverage in a business deal or to rake someone’s image through the mud.
This job was simple as could be. His employer just wanted Cross to observe his subject. Cross received strict instructions not to interfere in any way with the subject. Cross was to watch and report the subject’s every action. If the subject became aware of his surveillance actions, Cross would not only lose the Nuyen he was offered, but his employer promised there would be other retributions made.
Things started to happen that were starting to peak his interest. Especially after the scene he witnessed this morning. Cross still was unsure who was responsible. A copy of the footage would be kept for himself at a later date just in case it could help turn a sizable profit for him.
The swarm of customers, all shapes and sizes had started to encumber travel by the time the mahogany door to the Eight Muse swung open. The moment they reached their resistance point, Cross had disposed of the trash in a nearby container and started to stroll in the shop’s direction. Erick emerged from the confines of the shop, his eyes narrowed to thin slits as he gingerly moved down the steps. The man’s long strides carried him effortlessly, merging his presence within the moving mass as he attempted to weave in between the bodies.
Based on the information he had been given, Cross had a pretty good idea where the subject was heading to. The dwarf kept pace with his subject, keeping a set distance behind him as they both negotiated the afternoon traffic.