Closed [Tent City] The First Meet

[Fallon]

There was a respectful nod to the two additional as they came in, her eyes burning at both of them – not out of anger, but anticipation as to what exactly they would have done next. Or at least until she finally focused her attention truly onto Matthew. There was a long, hard sniff to his approach, her lip twitching in response to his rather forward energy. But, she bit her tongue and secretly remained grateful that there was a certain Zandelia between the pair of them. She regarded his question for a moment, taking a few moments to formulate an answer before beginning;

”Relationship, whatever you feel suits,” she finally answered. Her hand outstretched at that point, a slow wave across the small audience that, ”But, from now on there is one thing that you are. You are comrades, brothers and sisters to the same dream. We are allies; that much I can tell you, so learn these faces and keep them to memory for when you need them. What you choose to have is for you to decide. Business if you wish, and friends if you desire. Should you want more…” she gave a smirk, followed by a shrug, ”Go get a room.”

Her head turned when ‘Web’ spoke up. It was a vital question, one that she herself was hesitant to ask – and it was thought provoking to say the least. Her eyes flickered up to Senghor as he came in, an exhale as she took him to her mind. Eyes counted, flickering between the faces and then snapped to Gad when he spoke. There was a pause again, the gathering of the most diplomatic answer forming in her mind and one that made sense - to herself at least.

”Did you not hear Web’s question? That is part of the answer in itself, what do you wish to gain?” she sucked in the air, her hands coming forward to form a set of scales, ”As for what I can offer, well, you all saw the note, the rumours and the whispers. What I offer you is the answer of them; I give you the chance to make change. The opportunity to make a difference. Who here has not once been forced under the thumb of the Daggerhands? Who here has not had blood spilt and prices paid in their wrath? Or has not heard of a friend or family member left crippled by them? Do you not desire to take back what is yours and reduce them down to dirt?” Her hand gestured down to Gad, ”This is no goal that will be done in a day, I am no fool in believing that. Yes there will be risks, and that is an undeniable fact. You want pay? Then I will pay you in opportunity. I will pay you in ideas and thoughts. If that is not good enough then…” her hand then lifted at that point and gestured to the exit. No words were spoken, there was no need to for the intention itself was clear. It was there for him to take should he now be disinterested.

Pulling away she looked about the tent once more, her eyes watching and waiting for a reaction from them all. Would they answer the question of Zandelia? Or would they continue to simply stumble and stare over questions. Sucking in the air, she cleared her throat and looked upon them all. Yes, they would do, they would be a start. For a few more chimes she waited on the chance for other questions to be asked and then moved on.

”Onto business? We have gathered for change, but before we can even initiate such a thing we must firstly understand and know the common foe. By doing so we will be able to establish our goals with greater ease,” she gestured out to them, ”But, we must also be looking for a point in which to fall back to. I doubt we can use Tent City forever after all. There is much to do as you all know, but here are my suggestions to get us started.” At that point she took a step forward, her eyes fixing upon each of them to gauge a reaction. If there was anything she knew about the locals it was that they were temperamental at best – thus it was vital for her to stay one step ahead of them, ”To begin with we will need to be able to follow them – to set up points where they travel across. Where do they gather, where do they go. Routes need to be traced and a network of movement will be laid out. It is a lot of tracking, but it is vital to know.”

“Another is knowing who does what within. A slightly… messier job I feel may be in order,” lips broke into a wolfish smile, her eyes glinting slightly as the idea flowed, ”And perhaps… it would appeal to those who have suffered beneath the brunt of the Daggerhand. My second proposition, who would like to go fishing for Daggerhands and have a little… play time?” She let it hang there for a while, a step back to her original position. Her eyes only darted quickly to Zandelia once more, looking for a reaction to her words and then returned to the gathering. In honesty she was nervous, the turning energy resting within and leaving her uncertain. She needed to know what they wanted before she could start making proper decisions.

”Any other suggestions or queries?”

[Zandelia]

She watched them all intently, as much as she could at least considering that one of the group stood outside of her range of vision. Another newcomer had arrived and had spoken not a whit in terms of greeting. By the way that Bitzer hadn’t immediately thrown him out she assumed he was a known face, though perhaps not important enough to have been mentioned within the context of their conversations before the meeting had been arranged. Either that or the woman had had her mind upon other matters, she had been very busy after all and for a few days they had not spoken to each other at all. There had been silence after her own dialogue and that told her they most were not even sure why they were there – it had to be changed if they were to be bound together in mutual assistance and effect change upon the city.

Turning up whilst wondering why isn’t good enough, we need to think as a whole. This Gad speaks for all of them, I think. They are too cautious, frightened perhaps. They want to know what is in it for them and that is wise but letting fear stop you from doing something on principle never got anyone anywhere of consequence she mused to herself.

Bitzer spoke then and she was appreciative that the concepts they had talked about were now verbally placed into the minds of others – ideas were more subtle and immortal than actions. She was wise in knowing that. Appealing to their curiosity, their emotions and their desire in one neat little monologue. It was perfect in a way. She knew that at least half of them would have been wronged by the enemy, probability demanded it be so. Gad clearly wanted opportunity and she was offering him the ideas for them as well as shelter and protection to initiate them. The others, well what they truly wanted was yet to be revealed but who could really argue with opportunity? It had always been in short supply in Sunberth – a city that couldn’t even afford walls much less safety.

“If you are fearful of this enterprise then you are intelligent Gad, no one managed to obtain greatness – in anything – without danger. But allow me to ease some of them based upon what you stated. The Daggerhand,”she drew a circle upon the floor with the tip of her now defunct pipe, “before. After” she sliced lines through the circle and split it up.

“Small groups, all without the leadership they had before. Robern made the Daggerhands and without him they have fragmented. Each potential leader wants it all but is not powerful or clever enough to take it. They wear the same colours but fight amongst themselves I hear. They can’t trust each other and that is a weakness. All one needs to do is drive the wedges to separate out a slice and then crush it” she stated simply.

“You are offered the means to do this. You want fame, you will gain it. You want revenge then I will give you my blade to slam into them. You want coin then take it from their corpses, keep what you kill…as it were,” she continued pointedly, “the Daggerhand had more than numbers, they had business. Now the business is on its own and struggling to survive. I think you understand where this leads…”she trailed off then.

“Bitzer is wise, she knows what she is doing. As do I. Where else will you get an open offer of a refuge of safety to be taken and repurposed? Where else will you get a serious scheme to weaken the Daggerhand for your own advantages – whatever they may be. It will not be easy, nor will it be quick but you are all younger than me and I have the stones to do it. Most of you are men, do you?” she asked, voice soft and insidious.

“The business, I can build the network with your help. I know these things. Any takers?”

“And the fun with the Daggerhand, you walk before you can run and so I agree that it is prudent to be cautious. Catch the stragglers, press them for information by any means and learn where their balls are kept so we can kick them hard and snatch away their toys”

“You know my thoughts Bitzer, she stated simply without looking at the woman, continuing to watch the others, “but what about all of you? Are you ready to dance properly for once, which scheme appeals to you best.What do you want?” the question was rhetorical this time, obviously so, they hadn’t answered before so she doubt they would this time.

[Noven]

Well, things just got more interesting by the tick. Now there were two new additions to the group, one a stranger and the second likely itching to strangle his old friend by the throat. Nov gave Seng a chagrined nod, knowing all too well his fellow mercenary had little taste for the Hound's authority and was probably none too happy about showing up alone.

It was a tough choice, choosing whether to let Seng in on the truth or just let the man keep thinking whatever he was thinking. The cook had been in a right state for most of the season, more sullen and short tempered than ever, and woken up that day on the floor of some tavern instead of his own bed. He'd considered going back to fetch his friend, but the confusing hole that red headed Isur had left still smarted like petch and drove him to head straight to the meeting just to get it over with. And even still, he had been late.

Ah, well, plenty of time for sorting through that shyke later.

As Bitzer spoke of the members now being brothers and sisters, Noven felt a faint sting of nostalgia. Only last season that had more or less suggested the same thing, though to a completely different band of misfits. How strange fate's humor could be, he mused. A year ago, Nov had no one to call family. Now, he had too many to count.

Nonetheless, the merc took their wolf girl's suggestion. He didn't have the best of memories but he tried anyway, taking each name and pairing it with its designated face. Gad, the chatty, dark featured kid; Zandelia, the pipe smoking blonde; Matthew, the cleanest godsdamned whore in all of Sunberth. The rest he knew. That should about cover it.

The two women answered questions, pitched their promises, and all in all made a convincing proposal. Convincing at least to someone who wished for nothing else save complete, unadulterated violence upon those fucking dagger rats. Money, fame, power--they were as tempting to him as they were to any native of Sunberth, but seemed little more than distractions and trivialities compared to the only thing he wanted. And that was pain. More pain than any human being could rightfully stand, and then some. All on the one Daggerhand Boss who had robbed him of the one real family he ever remembered having.

"Not much of a proper dancer," Nov grunted, "Not much of a proper anything, really. But if you know the steps to getting these Daggerhands dead, I'm all for learning them."

And that was that, really. Things didn't get much simpler than that of single minded, bloodthirsty vengeance.

[Matthew]

Get a room.

He very nearly pitched in to offer himself if anyone was actually looking for more, or at least in a physical sense. He noted Bitzer's smirk though, quietly realizing that she was just making a point. It wasn't actually a good time to try and advertise himself. With that in mind, he bit his lower lip and held his tongue.

Instead, the Harlot kept quiet. He just watched, not with any devious intent, but just with unfiltered curiosity. He had never been to this sort of gathering before. It was interesting to see how it all played out, how everyone worked with and against each other. If he needed to study social interactions, this was certainly a good place to be. There were so many different personalities on display. There appeared to be hidden meanings in a bunch of the words spoken as well, as if people were hinting at something they weren't quite saying. He couldn't put his finger on it though. He never could, he was only ever able to get a feeling. He hated just having a feeling. One of the feelings that he had at the moment was about Bitzer. He had noticed the quick glance to the side, to her cohort. Something was off about her, something he probably only understood because he spent a decent amount of time around her. Was she nervous? For a second, he considered reaching out with a bit of his magic and solving that little problem for her. He quickly decided against it. Much too casual a use. He needed to stop considering things that presented themselves to him as a complete whim.

Blue eyes grew distant, mind wandering. He still heard everything, stare tilting and turning to pay attention to those who were speaking. He listened just enough to hear, but already his thoughts were churning with different ideas. They were offering a lot of different things. Interestingly enough, they were willing to accept anyone who had something to gain from all of this. What did he have to gain? Originally, he would have looked to his career. Problem was, he had advanced much more quickly than he had originally thought. So what was left for him? He could learn something from this, no doubt. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps he simply wanted knowledge.

The Harlot did take a moment to take in the two newcomers. He had no idea who they were. One gave his name, the other just stood there and looked big. Noven apparently knew who the guy was though, so that was something. So none of them were strangers, they all knew someone else in the group in some way or form.

"Since I am a prostitute, I believe I could assist in helping build an information network, or at least be a part of that information network. I do not have the skills required to press someone for information. My strengths lie in the purely mental realms, not the physical. My only physical strength is my appearance." He softly offered up ways in which he could be useful, trying to help keep the conversation going. "Perhaps it would be best to start with defining our roles. Once it is known what a person wants and what a person's strength is, then that person can be put in a place that is best suited for their particular set of talents. To most effectively get to know the enemy, I would think that we would need to have a certain amount of open knowledge among ourselves. That would be my ideal first step. I am sure we can all view ourselves critically and present where our strengths lie, and how those strengths can be used for the best of the group effort."

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

For so long he sat there in that uncomfortable seat that it was beginning to dig into his skin and truly irritate him, his eyes shifted back and forth between the face as he listened in on their proposals and questions. Personally he had no questions to ask even though they were some digging at the back of his mind, but Bitzer knew why he was here, why actually any of them were there and to keep sugar coating matters only led to unwanted promises and disgruntled truths. That chair had dug into him for so long that he just had to stand up, the cracking of his stiff joints playing their tune as his eyes fell onto those who looked upon him. He wasn't expected to talk, but as he drew unwanted attention onto himself he saw it fit just to do so anyway. "We can sit here all day scratching our heads and kissing one anothers ass trying to establish our purpose amongst one another" he said with a cold tone leaving his lips, "Or we can all remember that we all have a purpose and try to establish it out there on the streets" "Rokan is dead. A couple of slaves have been freed, so what?, anyone with more balls than brains could have done that any other day," he said as he began to move from his initial position. "We're here to discuss our next course of action and while we're here, the Daggerhands are going to find someone just as cruel and deadly as Rokan, if not someone worse" the words left his lips coldly, "We're not fuckin' children godsdamnit, wanting this and that won't achieve what we initially came here for," "What we need now is to kill our way into the Daggerhand's businesses. Taking each one of them as our own silently, proficiently so that when the Daggerhands have got their balls back together we can snuff them out like the candlelight" he said as he paced around, mostly in one place. "Working in the shadows will only do us some worth but remember what happens when light shines on us, we'll die. The other gangs in Sunberth aren't going to like knowing that a bunch of nobody's killed the head of a gang" he summarized with knowledge on what was happening around them and Sunberth. "Ladies and Gentlemen, sooner or later we're going to have to prepare for a war and having most of Sunberth against you won't look good in our favor if we don't take what we want from the city" Seng said as he returned back to his seat, yet he didn't take it, he merely stood there and waited to see what they had to say.

[Gad]

Inelegant, but the truth was true even if it wasn't said so nice. Gad grinned. Tall dark and gruesome makes sense. And I agree, more or less. Look, you guys don't wanna clue us in on what the big plan is, the long con- and I'm sure there is one- that's fine- 'Wasting Daggerhands' will be good enough of a mission statement for everyone here I guess. But, well, Matty boy makes a point too. So, let's strike something of a balance? How about, I tell you how I can make myself useful, and steal an idea from him. Gad wagged a finger towards Seng, and then rubbed his chin and looked off into space. "I'm a con-artist, professionally speaking, and I've got some skill in the area of bullshiting, it being entirely necessary to the trade, and I've survived for a long time by recognizing the simple principle that violence is expensive, usually more expensive than any other option, though not necessarily. That's my background, just so you know, before we get too far into this. Alright, now to the point. We're going to need money. And I'm not just talking about on a personal level- though I still expect compensation, and we can discuss that later- I'm talking about as an organization. If what you're talking about is what I think you're talking about, and I guess it is considering how many eager, blood-thirsty goons are trolling around this tent- self included- we're gonna need some cash flow, something that goes to the gang, and not in our pockets. A base that's not a cramped tent would probably be at the top of the wish list, but information, weapons, armor, and medical care, those are all things we need to be thinking about finding ways to pay for, all things that need to be a part of our budget. 'Business' is indeed, the word of the day. Now, I'll volunteer for a little fishing trip, and I don't mind getting my hands messy, sure, it's necessary. Information, team building exercises, all that good stuff..." Gad scratched his head and looked around the tent. "But I think I'd be best pointed in a certain direction. As far as knowing who does what within, let's find out who's paying the Daggerhand's bills. Who's giving them protection money? And, out of those, who's been feeling the most vulnerable these days? We need to find out who want's a change in business partners, people as tired as us of taking Daggerhand shit. And, we need to act before they get picked up by one of the other, more powerful syndicates, or freelancers- mercenaries. I doubt they have anything resembling loyalty. So, once we show them we can go toe-to-toe with the Daggerhand- even if that's just appearances- and maybe that we're a 'softer-gentler' band of cutthroats, they'll be inclined to throw that business our way. Okay, so maybe all of that was obvious, maybe it wasn't, whatever. But, I'm nothing if not a man with a firm grasp of the obvious. Well, I'm just saying, when it comes to pulling these businesses in, I'd like to be the one to do it, or one of the ones- let me talk to the merchants. Once we've got the information we need, we'll know what we can do from there, but that's my two copper mizas; disrupt and capture any means of cash flow they've got. And, preferably, like Tallness pointed out, before the Daggers can realize what we're doing. The Daggerhand aren't like us- they aren't cooks, or con-artists, or prostitutes. They're Daggerhand. Full time, professionally, all day, every day. They've got it tattooed on their hands, so they never forget that it's who they are. They don't do this for some ideal, or the chance to make a change, or because bullies picked on them in the past and now's their time to get back. They do it, because hurting people is all they're good at, and they can eat and drink off of it as long as there's a Daggerhand there to pay them for it. If we take that away, whatever this turns into- whenever this war really comes to a head- the fighting might not be so thick. Well, I've mostly said my peace on that front. Just a few more things I'd like to bring to the table. Time? When are we going to meet for these little shindigs? And where? How will we contact one another if there are emergencies? And, this may seem obvious, but who exactly is in charge here? You Bitzer? Is Web second string? I called this an organization earlier, but that was kind of generous, organizations tend to be structured. And, as Sir Seven-Feet of Buzzcut noted earlier, we're mostly a bunch of people in a tent scratching our heads," Gad looked over his shoulder "and a wolf. Which I didn't really notice earlier, by the way. Wow, spot check failed. Is-... is he like our mascot? Can we like, take turns, with the wolf, I mean. Because, I've actually got a few wolf-shaped problems..." Gad trailed off as he eyed the mutt, stroking his chin hairs.

[Fallon]

Whilst Zandelia gave her supporting claims and voiced her confidence. Words exchanged, her own ideas that had already been discussed. She did not press as to the exact nature of the woman’s thoughts, there was no need to. Both knew of the dream and how it worked. There was a moment of relief when Noven gave his short agreement to the situation – it took an unnecessary weight off her shoulders. One of them had agreed to it, now it was to see if the rest of them would. Matthew also expressed a wanting to assist, more from the mental as opposed to the physical aspect. And even she knew that in the world they were going into they were vitally important. Another factor that he brought up was the sharing of information among them. She was about to speak, until he suddenly opened his mouth.

Fallon looked upon Senghor at that point. The lips broke into a curl, her eyes fixing solely upon him. There was no expression behind the stilled mask that she wore, only the cool gaze as she took him in and his obviously unthinking words. And from there the mouth broke into the thin sliver of white and a wolfish smile found itself upon her features. Those once calmer tones gave a drop, and the husky roll escaped.

“Once, there were two men. One built his house upon rock, the other upon sand,” her hands came apart as if to create a set of scales, eyes locked upon him, “Senghor, when the storm came which one do you think was left standing?” She held it for a moment, hands coming away to rest upon the hilts of the tulwars. She did not move from her spot, “The one built upon rock of course. Now, as it has obviously escaped your notice, we are planning, establishing and knowing of one others skills and talents. By knowing our capabilities we are able to make plans. After all, what is the point in having tools if you don’t know how to use them?”

“And have you forgotten, Senghor, that the Daggerhand leader Robern was dead before the Hound came to Sunberth? And that his once powerful group has splintered?” She lifted her chin, a raise almost in challenge, “Of course, they are still the Daggerhand correct. But, there was no hand in his death from us. It was his generals that were targeted, I hope you try to remember that for next time.” Firm, direct and to the point, “Also, I must congratulate you. For your idea is exactly those that have already been addressed and mentioned. Do you serve only to repeat, to mimic, what has already been said?”

She paused, sucked in the air and then exhaled it, “You have also managed to contradict yourself in less than a breath. You said that simply wanting will not achieve anything, yet here you are, talking about what you want and should be ours, no, yours by right. Knowing and wanting, breeds the formulation of tactics and plans. If one has a desire, they will work towards its obtaining and the achievement of it. A fundamental factor. If you are such a strong believer that such things are not necessary,” she gestured her hand to the tent exit, “By all means, there is Sunberth waiting for you. Enjoy it.”

With that she turned her attention to Gad. He spoke a lot, and it required a chime or two of long thoughtful silence to process it. There were key factors put in place, and unlike Senghor who simply laid down wants and demands without putting in any actual input to the meeting – Gad actually thought and processed what was before him. And that was something that appealed to her a lot. The group needed thinkers and it was him that managed to see from the two sides of the coin and put things into a relative perspective. When he finished, she gave only a nod, ”A man who takes things in and looks for the long term I see? Excellent. So, let’s break your points down; Money and Base of operations, Business, Information and taking.”

Her tongue gave a click, her eyes coming down into a narrow as she thought them through. It was with slow words that she spoke, almost as if reading off a mental list she had stored away.

”I am in the process in working towards a more solid base of operations from my own back, one of wood and stone instead of canvas and poles,” there was a momentary pause, fingers twitching as she tried to count out the numbers within her head, ”The aim is to have one of relative substance by the Summer or the Autumn at the latest. Finance depending of course.” She gave a pause, ”The same will be for your ‘compensation’, values are being calculated and worked upon. And I’m sure we can find some value you will find appropriate. Methods of communication are being worked upon as are the others, they have been difficult this season.”

“As you appear to have an interest mostly in the business front, perhaps I shall allow you to become more acquainted with the merchants. I will want to join you on such ventures, that way I can know exactly how you go about achieving such things. As for who’s paying who, well I’m certain you and Web can become well acquainted on the information gathering front. When you know who to take from, we can then do some taking. Sound fair?” There was a pause to when he asked who exactly was in charge. Eyes gave a blink, her mind turning over. Originally it was Hound who was in charge, or tried to be – as he had disappeared off the face of existence it mean that the task and title fell onto her shoulders, ”Yes, that is correct, I am in charge and Web the assistant.” There was a look around at the people, whilst that was correct even the Daggerhands had to start from a similar position. Not that she mentioned such thing, nothing would be gained from doing so, “You can try and take turns with him,” Fallon spoke coolly, ”Might bite your throat out first though. As for the fishing trip…” She gave a look to Zandelia and then back to the group, ”Thirty-ninth, near Brega’s? Be sure to have fun, won’t you now.”

[Zandelia]

It appeared that their meeting had lost two of its participants, the young girl Kye to complete silence of pure observation and the rogue that was Noven to simple yet at least affirmative words. The lass had done little to attract her attention but the lad, Noven, he almost seemed to bubble with rage within. She wondered why he had such a visceral dislike of the Daggerhand. It never took much to hate the bastards of course, Zandelia herself had her own scores to settle, but it was strange to her that he seemed to only have arrived so he could exact a toll upon their numbers. That could be used but it also posed a danger. At what point, if any, would such urges spill over into their own numbers? Would he ever lose himself to pure violence and end up damaging their cause? It was a point for concern, but for later. For now violence was what she would see used if that was what she had at her disposal. Biter wouldn’t disagree she thought, though she was sure there would be various proviso’s.

There will be much blood before the end, for better or worse. The trick is to bleed the enemies as much as possible before they know what is bleeding them. To discover their resources, what matters to them, and take them. Violence has its uses but not without the cloak of subterfuge she thought to herself as she watched the other - Senghor - take up the position of orator.

His points were somewhat valid but spoken from the perspective of one who believed that fighting solved everything, could gain you anything and ultimately would obtain you victory. She was not averse to such ideals when applied to places such as the Blood Pitts but when it came to the Dagger hand - or the other syndicate’s for that matter - it would surely get them all killed. The Daggerhand were thugs but they knew how to fight. The entry requirements just to join ensured that their grunts were strong and effective. Without leadership they lacked direction, but not the ability to kill. She listened, noting how he took the stage as if he believed he was a natural leader. Perhaps he could be, in time, but he seemed more blustery to her at the moment. There was a flickering consideration that he believed he should be the one to lead, the way he paced about and almost tried to order the state of play to the rest of them. She made a mental note to watch him carefully, not everyone in Sunberth would want to help them without their own reasons and - as with everyone else present - she would find those reasons.

And he has riled Bitzer too, she senses a challenge and rises to it. She is not to be dismissed when she is possessed of such abilities. She is right, he ignores completely any other methodology beyond his own. Almost arrogance yet we could still use him. Best not to push people away yet, though I won’t countermand her. She leads here, I am but the assistant she told herself silently as she watched the reactions and considered Gad’s proposals.

“Business and violence go together in Sunberth but that is not to say that violence should be used in the place of caution,” she spoke carefully, trying to find a central path that all could agree upon, “blood will be had but starting a war without a plan, without information and without assurance that we won’t be immediately revealed would get us all killed. The Daggerhand are just as able to kill now as they were before Rokan and Robern fell” she stated simply.

“We will need both shadowed work and physical work to get things done,” she looked at them all then, gaze lingering longest upon Senghor before flickering away once more, “if you only want part in one side then say so but don’t undervalue each side or we might as well dig our graves”

“You and you,” she pointed to the two brawlers then, “want blood. You will have it. But if you think that we can just walk in, kill some Daggerhand and then occupy a business…or any location they own…then you might want to give all of your gold away before doing so. You will die. There is no question of that. Not even the best warrior whoever lived could win single-handed and without forethought”

“You and you,” she pointed to the trickster and the harlot, “believe that business and intelligence is required for such operations. Good, it looks to me that we have both sides of a coin here if we can band together. Wouldn’t you say?” she asked quietly, seeking to try to offer the option of unity.

Whether it would be accepted would be up to them. She was more an advisor and spy than anything else. She never sought to lead, though on occasion she had had to. Her job was to protect them, where she could. Whether they knew it or not. Matthew she assumed would know that all too well.

“Matthew, I think we can work together with your suggestion. I will send for you when required and you may do the same with me. Gad, I have a few ideas that I will need help with, once I‘ve gone over them with Bitzer. The real generators or the economy here are the taverns and the brothels. I fancy we should be able to hit the Daggerhand in those balls without garnering much suspicion. Their agreements have always been…fickle…with such places anyway,” she stated, she had learnt that much as a word runner, “Noven and Senghor…you want the swell of battle? The surging of the blood? Meet me on the 39th as Bitzer stated. You will be sent for. You will have what you want”

“Now…are there any other suggestions? Any other aims that you want to mention? We can only help each other if we are open on that score. There can be no grumbling later about not getting aid if one does not ask after all” she asked softly.

[Noven]

His head swam a little. There was so much talking, so many opinions and speculations and tidbits of information being tossed about it left his mind a bit wobbly by the time Web addressed each of them personally.

When she spoke of the impossible nature of facing the Daggerhands head on with brute force, Noven made no move to disagree. He'd known this all along, had sought out the Hound for this very reason. He knew he could not find and beat the Boss on his own. In fact, Web may have even been giving him far more credit than he deserved; he was not, after all, a warrior in the noblest of senses. Seng might be a different story, given his family name and upbringing, but Nov was a street brat through and through. He never played fair if he didn't have to. That was sort of the unspoken law all surviving locals obeyed.

That, and he had no intention of dying before he got his hands on his victim.

The next bit about having both sides of one coin made enough sense to him. It was what the cook had been hoping for from the getgo. Someone in the group to handle all the delicate stuff so he could have as little to do with it as possible. He'd only make a mess anyway.

Brothels and taverns...at this, Nov found his mind, stubborn as it usually was to anything intricate in nature, jogging into motion. He was familiar with Happy Endings. More than a little familiar, to be perfectly honest. Especially when it came to the existence of a magical, trap door that opened from one, innocuous bedroom to a secret pathway outside. And if he didn't get too caught up on lingering around the fact that the redheaded gadgeteer who had originally set it all up was missing in action, he could almost sense a plan beginning to form in his head.

Of course, this would require revealing this little gem of information to everyone in the group. And he wasn't entirely sure each and every person present could be trusted. Seng and maybe Wolf Girl...the rest, he had only met that day.

Nov chewed over his options a bit more before finally deciding on telling the truth. Parts of it, anyway. And only the ones that were necessary.

"I'm not too uppity about aims, so long as they have to do with pain and Daggerhands," he spoke in response to Web's last question. "In regards to that, though, I do have a useful tool or two. Namely with the brothels--Happy Endings to be exact."

Nov hesitated for a moment, then pushed on with a shake of his head. "That is to say I know my way around there. Even got a special place just for special Daggerhands. There's a trap door only I know the magic word to open with, and a secret exit underneath it. If we ever need a nice, private place for some old fashioned questioning, you know who to call."

Well, that wasn't the whole truth. Not exactly, anyway. There was one other person besides Nov who possessed the knowledge of how to open that door. Isme learned of the password the same night he had, but he didn't think it likely she would betray that information. Not without considerable bribery at least, in which case Nov would just personally see to the end of their secret little trap door.

For now, though, the knowledge was kept in good hands, and a virtually sound proof space like that might still come in handy.

"Otherwise, everything's just peachy on my end," Nov offered as a final statement.

[Matthew]

Brothers and sisters, allies and even friends. His brow furrowed, though not in displeasure. He merely archived the information, a reminder to work on a way to actually develop that sort of relationship for the people that surrounded him.

Senghor spoke up with a certain tone to his voice and a certain aura surrounding him that caused quite a bit of attention to go his way. Matthew regarded him as the rest did, though his stare was one that was more curious than anything else. It was so very interesting to see how coldly the man spoke. A lot of these people seemed to have a very personal problem with the Daggerhands, which would explain one of their main motivations for being here. Matthew worried that it was perhaps dangerous having such emotional intentions, but who knew? Some people thrived on their inner passion and dedication. Isn't that what made the Knights of Syliras such a dangerous force?

Then there was Gad, a mixture of intelligence and humor. Then there was Bitzer standing up to Senghor, a move that Matthew could appreciate. As the leader, she needed to be able to assert her dominance and authority without hesitation. There was a certain tone she said it with that caused him to tilt his head for the umpteenth time, but he didn't even attempt to try and puzzle out what exactly it was supposed to mean. He was pretty sure she had mixed some insults into her words, subtle ones at that. Or perhaps they were only subtle to him. He lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, feeling a sudden wave of weariness. Social situations involving him and one or two other people were already complex enough. This many at once was just tiring.

He was snapped from his thoughts by Web, her gaze felt as she addressed him. He nodded to confirm her suggestion, feeling that he had nothing of real value to add on. Noven revealed an interesting piece of information in regards to the brothels, something that Matthew found a bit fascinating. A trap door with a magic word, hm? Magic was seldom heard of in Sunberth, or at least that Matthew was aware of. He stared at the cook for a few moments before wandering his gaze back to Web and Bitzer, allowing his silence to speak for itself. He had nothing else to ask, not yet. He was sure he would come up with new questions in time, but first he wanted to process everything they had gone over today. There had been a lot.