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Tales From The FCPD: Dirty Money


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GM

Alleyway between two Dive Bars (Adrenaline, and The Wasteland)

The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey

Monday,  March 26, 2014

8:20 PM

 

Detective Valerie Archer was a proud member of Freedom's finest.  Her spotless record, and military background put her in good graces with her superiors.  Her habit of practically 'living at her desk' has lead to more than one person worrying about her personal life.  But Detective Archer's record is exemplary.

 

A long time lover of the law and what it stands for, Archer was aghast when she found a discrepancy in the amount of cash filed into evidence from the actual amount found at crime scenes after being partnered with a detective named Robert Grayson.  In fact, she noticed this discrepancy in many of the cases Grayson and two others had been assigned for the past six months.  Setting up her own sting operation.  She sent an email from Grayson's computer setting up a meet between the three of them.  And took a recording device to gather evidence.  Unfortunately the detectives were on to her, and upon finding Detective Archer gunned her down.

 

And if she were an ordinary detective, Valerie Archer would have died that day.  But Detective Archer's record is exemplary.  So exemplary she already gave her life for the job once.  There was a new distributor attempting to spread his own strain of Zombie powder on the market.  The dealer actually lined his bullets with the stop.  Figuring any police that came after him that survived a gunshot wound would be hooked on the product, or die in defiance.  Valerie Archer chose the latter option.  

 

And die she did.  For all of six hours that is.  Rising from the dead, Detective Archer found her body felt different.  Her sense of touch numbed.  Taste lessened.  Everything could be willed into working order for sure.  But for all intents and purposes she was undead.  Very few people have become privy to the knowledge of her condition.  Not even her fellow police officers knew.  And if it wasn't for some unfortunate footage of her leaving the abandoned lot, the dirty cops would have left her for dead.  But they knew Archer was alive, and set about forging evidence against her.  Valerie Archer was now a fugitive overnight.

 

Like many of Freedom City's other well kept secrets the Raven was of privy to Detective Archer's secret 'condition'.  She even agreed, through secret messages, to help Detective Archer clear her name.  Noting if she turned out to be guilty Raven would personally bring her in.  But it wasn't the Raven whom showed up for the secret meeting in the alleyway between two dive bars.

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Detective Archer had been in the alleyway for perhaps 3 minutes when a soft voice spoke up from behind her and to her right.

"Detective. I hope you are feeling as well as can be expected."

It definitely wasn't Raven; the voice was male, and while gruff and growly, was still a bit on the young side. As if the voice, and the person attached to it, had some growing to do yet.

When she turned to investigate the source, she'd see nothing for a moment. Until suddenly two glowing eyes revealed themselves in the shadow...

And were shown to be the eyes in a dark cowl attached to a dark outfit. Archer having the connections to Raven that she did, and being such an exemplary officer of the law, she might have caught the whispers starting to go around that Raven had a partner. Or, as the less respectful might term him, a sidekick.

"I'm Nevermore. I'll be your point of contact and assistance in the investigation. Now. What evidence have we got on hand right now, and where's a good place to get more?"

Well, he was as down-to-business as Raven, at least.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

Detective Archer immediately drew her pistol and pivoted around when she heard the voice speak.  After Nevermore introduced the detective once again holstered her weapon.  Leaning against the wall for support.  Exhaling as she waited before speaking.  Valerie Archer was a proud woman.  Sure she wasn't going to kick the bucket any time soon, but she wasn't going to readily show off how vulnerable she felt. Blood dripped from the inner rim of her jacket.

 

"Nevermore, not the most confidence inducing moniker.  But, who am I to complain."  Detective Archer wheezed softly before crossing her arms.  "Robert Grayson, Voltimer Polk, and Bob O'Reilly.  Between the three of them there's thirty years of collective service to the badge.  Little bird told me that they have already doctored documents on my work computer implicating me in their little grand larceny spree.  I figure they took the time to get rid of the evidence I had on the machine.  If they're really clever the paper trail too."

 

Detective Archer finally pulled away from the wall.  Hushing into a quieter tone while speaking.  "Some of the bills are marked.  With even the serial numbers recorded.  You can't move that kind of paper without a good fence.  That's why I wanted to meet here.  The bartender at Adrenaline.  He knows people.  He's also a snitch, and will mention seeing me at the flash of five note.  Bar won't open for another forty minutes.  Seems someone slashed the tires of their delivery trucks and they're too low on booze to open up."  She didn't explain who that someone was.  But clearly Archer planned ahead. 

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The young hero smirked at the comment regarding his name, actually looking a little...embarrassed?

"Talk to the Boss Lady about names. I signed up for the company uniform."

Considering that thing would make Green Berets jealous, that's a reasonable stance to take.

"You're right though. Marked bills are a great way to track this stuff. It's too bad you didn't have a backup site somewhere. Might be something to set up after we get this cleared up for you, Detective Archer."

His tone wasn't mocking, just helpful. He also seemed confident of her innocence. So, at least two people seemed inclined to accept that she hadn't done it. Nevermore looked at her jacket for a moment, concern making him frown.

"I realize injury isn't the same thing for someone in your...condition...but are you sure you'll be alright out here?"

Barring a sudden collapse, he turned and lined up a shot with his gauntlet, turning to look over his shoulder for just a moment.

"Yeah. Real shame what happens to good, law-abiding citizens in this town sometimes. An hour of lost business. Tsk tsk."

And then pressurized air shot a line up to the second-story fire escape, and Nevermore was fluttering through the air before pulling himself up with almost no noise. He crouched at the window for a second, his glowing eyepieces helping him see into the darkness beyond. Unless someone was standing there in ambush, he'd try to ease the window open and slip inside. Assuming that worked, he'd take a few moments to look around whatever room he found himself in...

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

"I will take that under advisement.  So much for thinking my off duty weapon was the only thing that I wouldn't be able to get from the station."  She clamped up for a moment when Nevermore showed concern for her well being.  "I'm fine recovering is part of the condition.  It's just not so superb that taking a few shots to the chest isn't an inconvenience.  I can still hold my own if need be."

 

*              *              *

 

Nevermore easily slipped through the window.  The latch left unlocked due to a subpar standard operating procedure when it came to security.  Nevermore's visual scan of the area was able to catch on to a few key details.  There were about four entrances to side rooms.  Each of which had their doors closed.  Only one had a window which allowed looking into it.  The contents of that room seemed to be no more than a pool table, multiple stools, a corner booth, and an overhead television set.  A television which likely was meant to only watch sports due to the noise in a bar environment.

 

The entire second floor seemed to effectively function as an indoor balcony.  Further down there was a railing positioned as a safety precaution.  With a large opening in the center looking down below.  There was a cage hanging overhead attached to a crane like system which like controlled its elevation.  Someone who frequented such establishments might have been able to figure out what purpose it served.  Near the cage there were a variety of light fixtures pointed towards the ground below.

 

Nevermore could hear the shuffling of feet below as employees moved about.

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The young vigilante crouched in the shadows below the open window for a few moments, considering his options. While an interrogation needed to happen, the situation could easily go south if he tried to jump into a group. He should be able to at least do a bit of exploring while upstairs...

He moved a bit further into the room he was in, steering away from the area with pool tables and such. Perhaps one of the side rooms here had office space or something. Information that he could use. Leverage.

Failing that, he supposed he could always zip down to the lower floor and nab the owner in a snatch-and-grab.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

Nevermore easily jimmied his way through the door.  The problem?  He wasn't prepared for the noise that came for opening the creaky door.  Sound which carried down to the first floor.  There was an abrupt shuffling off footsteps from the floor below.  Placing the teen investigator on a clock before he could get caught.

 

The room that he had entered seemed to be an office of sorts.  There was an assortment of file cabinets on the opposite wall.  A desktop computer sat upon an office desk littered to the brim with papers and various office supplies.  A miniature television set with a feed to the bar's camera systems played overhead.  There were a few glaring holes that a professional could prod away at.  But, Nevermore wasn't there to give consultations.

 

The only attempt at prettying up the clutter was a fairly generic dogs playing poker on the opposite wall.  The faint scent of cigars and whiskey lingered in the air.  Clearly whomever frequented the office didn't cater to any of the smoking bans that would normally prevent such measures in the place of business.  The ash tray sat directly below a combination globe bar positioned directly under an air vent.

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Nevermore cursed in 3 languages...inside his head. He should have expected the door to creak, but he supposed that's why he was the Apprentice and not the Master. At least this Master-Apprentice relationship didn't involve lightning-based torture...

Shaking his head of the random thoughts about pop culture, he scanned the room's contents quickly, as well as the general physical layout.

The computer held the most promise, but there was no way he'd be able to get anything meaningful from it before someone came up to investigate. So instead, he glanced at the camera feeds (trying to get a better idea of who might be coming up) and searched for the best perch.

Ultimately, he slipped behind and to one side of the open door, and quickly scurried partway up the wall. In the dark room, in the darker corner, his costume should help hide him. Then he simply waited.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

Nevermore was able to time the bouncer's movements with the camera feeds.  Judging the relative time it would take for him to reach the room from the oot of the stairs perfectly.  When the man entered the room before he could properly express his profane bewilderment at the empty room Nevermore struck.  Moving silently from the shadows above the youth locked his elbows in tight and dragged the hired thug into the air with him.  It would only be a matter of movements before he could apply his modified rear naked choke.  Muffled screams signaling the start of a struggle.

 

The man's legs furiously kicked out.  Struggling to free himself while his hands were hard at work clawing away at his unseen assailant.  In terms of musculature, neither male had a clear physical advantage.  Both of their physiques told a story of someone who had spend a healthy amount of time strength building.  Nevermore was able to use the height advantage to easily tuck the bouncer's chin backwards.  Thereby forcing sternocleidomastoid muscles to push further against the carotid artery.  Essentially speeding off how quickly circulation was cut.

 

In a matter of seconds the clawing would stop.  Then the kicking came to a slow stop.  And finally his eyes rolled back, with the man's body would becoming dead weight.  Alive, of course, but he was unconscious.  Not a single whisper escaped the room as Nevermore gently brought them both back down to the ground.

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That had been easier than Alek had been expecting, he wasn't going to lie. But then again, the man had just walked in obliviously, and he had had a chance to arrange himself for a near-perfect ambush. He maneuvered the bouncer over to one side of the door, at least mostly out of sight.

He decided to progress through targets of opportunity in order of ease of access, while keeping an eye on the security monitors.

First he'd go through the papers on the desk, trying to see if anything stood out. If nothing applicable was there, he'd move on to the computer, attempting to sift through its file system to locate useful information that he could download.

Failing anything there, or if it wasn't quite enough, he'd move on to the tablet computers. Throughout that whole time, he'd keep one eye on the security monitors.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

Alek had a far better trained eye than most. However, his efforts searching the office was a bit of a rush job. Not turning over any fruitful stones, he did happen upon a pile of papers on the desk.  Most of the contents were weeks old ranging from magazine subscriptions to bills.  But the most recent addition to the mess of a pile was an odd letter with neither a return address or one for the recipient.

 

Examining the condition of the paper and the relative lack of comparative dust he was assured that it was not only clearly hand delivered in some fashion, but done so fairly recently. When Alek opened the envelope the letter inside was some sort of secret message written in a form of code.

 

Fuvryq Orneref, 

 

Gurer vf n Qrgrpgvir Nepure va gur SPCQ.  Fur'f fgvpxvat ure abfr jurer vg qbrfa'g orybat.  Beqref sebz gur gbc ner gung vg'f n fvghngvba gung zhfg or qrnyg jvgu.

 

Znl lbhe fuvryq or fgnvarq sberire pevzfba.

One did not have to old enough to frequent such an establishment for it to become apparent that the message was an odd choice for regular business. With his eye on the monitor Alek was able to keep track of the fact that no one else had yet been alerted to his presence. But it would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for the musclebound man that he had choked out.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Nevermore frowned. Part of him knew he should be able to figure out what that message meant. But it didn't quite "click" for his eyes and brain. Not yet. He folded up the letter and tucked it into a container on his belt for just such occasions. He cast his gaze around the room again, frown still on his face. There were so MANY placed information could be hiding. But which information?

His eyes drifted back to the monitors. There was more than one person downstairs...but how many would really want to put up a fight against a costumed, armored superhero? Less-well-known or not, Nevermore wasn't the sort of figure you could quite ignore. But who to snatch?

Edited by KnightDisciple
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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

The monitor had a few blind spots.  But there was enough to give Nevermore an overall layout of the building.  There were currently five other employees on the first floor.  Two bouncers posted up near doorways.  One by the entrance another by the bar.  A waitress found herself cleaning a table with a worried expression on her face.  Clearly worried about something.  However, seeing an expression on the video wouldn't go on to share if her expression was due to personal woes or not.

 

The bartender whom the Detective had alerted Nevermore about earlier was visible behind the bar.  Dressed in a leather vest collared shirt combination.  Upon close inspection it was easy to tell that his arms and torso were covered in various tattoos.  He had an apron covering his waist.  A slight bulge coming out from his left leg.  If the location had been more reputable perhaps it would have been a credit card scanner hidden underneath the apron.

 

Finally the owner of the bar was in full view.  He was in some back office.  The pictures framed on the walls of his office where hard to get a good look at on the scratchy camera feed.  However, Nevermore was able to make out the still image of what appeared to be the owner in a police officer's uniform.  Posing as if it were some department photo from the eighties.

Edited by HG Morrison
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The bouncers were big, and the bartender at minimum was armed, but neither of these things was an insurmountable problem. That said, Nevermore wasn't the sort to enjoy being shot at. Luckily, he thought he had a way to circumvent those problems.

With careful steps, he exited the small office, his feet ghosting across the floor, his cape only giving a soft swish. Then he ventured out onto the balcony, trying to walk softly and keep to the shadows, until he was directly over the bartender's position. His goal was a snatch-and-grab to get the bartender somewhere isolated where they could "talk".

Edited by KnightDisciple
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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

Nevermore moved silently in the dark.  Unseen or unheard by any of the employees below.  You could hear a pin drop before you had a shot of hearing the teen vigilante.  An aspect of his subterfuge that extended to his snatching of the unaware bartender.  It was going perfectly until the bartender kicked his legs out while squirming.  A bottle of wine was sent crashing down below.

 

Only one of the bouncers even bothered looking in the direction of the bar.  Paying attention enough hear what sounded like a muffled out scream.  It wasn't immediately clear to him.  "Hey, where's Evan?"  He yelled out in a gruff voice.  Alerting the other two to the fact that their bartender was no longer in anyone's line of sight.  With none of them having a clear explanation for his immediate whereabouts.

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Nevermore knew he had to move if he wanted to avoid a long, drawn-out fistfight. Part of him wanted to do that anyways, but he didn't have time, and a good, honest cop's life (or unlife) and career were on the line.

So he settled for a grip that left the bartender little leverage and a covered mouth as he quick-walked back into the room he had entered the building from, angling for the still-open window. He slowed for just a moment to eye the window opening and adjust his grip on "Evan". Said grip adjustment meant that said bartender saw those inhuman white eyes turn toward him, and that one patch of human-like flesh (perhaps a parody slapped onto this inhuman, otherworldly figure?) show a slight smirk. It was not an expression that promised kittens and cognac.

"Time for fresh air."

Indeed, what the man got instead was tossed through the window onto the fire escape. He had perhaps 3-4 seconds of freedom before the dark vigilante was on his person again, one arm securely fastened about Evan's person, the other aimed at the rooftop above them.

"Don't squirm."

And then they were zipping through the air on a high-strength ascender line, and were suddenly on the roof, Evan once again free for the moment as the vigilante crouched on the lip of the rooftop, his jaw shrouded in shadows, his cape flapping a bit in the breeze, and those white eyes still looking directly at Evan's. Like they were looking into his soul.

"You have information I want. We can either have a calm discussion, or a vigorous debate. Your choice."

Edited by KnightDisciple
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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

Apparently Nevermore's hostage was not keen on listening.  As almost immediately the bartender squirmed helplessly under Nevermore's grip.  Slowing down and gulping as realization slowly dawned upon him.  On just how "vigorous" the debate was to be if he continued.  Giving off a slow nod of submission he showed interest in complying with the teen hero's request.  Not wanting to risk a fall from such a height.

 

Of course, that compliance came before the questions had actually been asked.  Nevermore's squirmy friend could just as easily change his mind before the interrogation was through.  All the while there lingered the knowledge that his coworkers would eventually become privy to the fact that he was no longer inside the bar.  However, would they be quick enough to catch sight of Alek?

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"I hear you know people, Evan. Lots of people. Bartender like you, probably talks to hundreds of people a week. Great job for socializing."

Nevermore takes three slow steps closer to the bartender.

"I hear you even know folks who help get rid of less-than-totally-honest goods. Now, I'm sure you're a good, law-abiding citizen who certainly doesn't approve of such things yourself, but don't want to make waves calling in anonymous tips to the police."

Well, there's the "out" for Evan to snitch with. Nevermore takes another step closer.

"So I'd like to see if you remember any names, and maybe addresses. And I'd like to see if you can help me solve this little puzzle I found. Not quite the Sunday morning crossword, but."

Here he pulls out the coded message from the desk and dangles it from 2 fingers, tilting his head to one side.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

The bartender's eyes widened in fear once he saw the code.  His eyes lingering on the text.  Shaking his head adamantly.  "I-I don't know what that is."  He blatantly lied.  Something keeping him more afraid.

 

"Wh-what is it that you want?  Names and addresses of who and what?  Please buddy, you've gotta believe me.  I don't know what you're after.  But, I don't think I'm the guy you want."  This time his statement came more earnestly.  Almost pleading for Nevermore to look elsewhere for assistance.

 

He did not, however, at any request that the police not be called into the establishment.  On this night the bartender was afraid of many a thing.  But it became evident the good old blue and whites were not amongst those fears.

Edited by HG Morrison
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As soon as Evan said he didn't know the code for the paper, Nevermore shifted his stance. Evan wouldn't recognize it, but the young crimefighter was preparing to pounce....Which he did about 5 seconds after hearing "I don't think I'm the guy you want.".

His hands grabbed the front of the man's shirt and tossed him to the middle of the roof. Before the bartender could even start getting up, he had an armored knee very gently applying pressure to his solar plexus, while hands with grips like vices held his arms in place. Blank eyes, now glowing green, stared directly into his. The one bit of flesh seen, the mouth, was....Frowning.

"Liar. I didn't want to do vigorous debate, but it's up to you. Now. Next time you lie, I'm going to give you a better angle on the breeze. Next lie after that, I start seeing what kind of yo-yo tricks I remember. Gotta warn you."

Grinning.

"I'm a bit...rusty."

Frown again.

"First, I want names of anyone and everyone you'd know who might deal in hot money. Names, numbers, addresses, habits, favorite food. Anything you can give me. Then you're going to tell me what that code means."

One hand went to his belt, clicking something hidden in a pouch, before moving, quick as a snake, to hold the bartender's arm again. From this point on, Evan was on Candid Camera. Or, at least, candid voice recorder.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

Evan wheezed out.  The air knocked right out of him as soon as the knee pushed in.  He wasn't out of shape but he wasn't anywhere near capable of keeping up with Nevermore.  The youth had both strength and speed on him, not to mention actually being able to throw it around as the bartender was quickly finding out.

 

"If the money's hot you have problems.  No one wants to run around with a marked bill bigger than a 20.  No one bats their eye to a questionable 20 especially if you mix it in with the good stuff.  Best guy for that would be Ivan.  Bulgarian.  He's a real nasty piece of business.  Let me tell ya, word is he shot his own mother for being behind on a payment."  The bartender let out a dry gulp.  His spirit broken, but survival instinct in full effect.

 

"No really, I can't translate it just by looking at it.  If I tells ya how to figure it out will ya let me go?  Please I begs of ya, I ain't gonna stick around if you're going to be pissing off folks like Ivan.  After they off you, they'll come for the snitch.  I ain't about to be that guy."

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Nevermore backed off the pressure on Evan's torso, but still maintained a posture that kept the bartender in place.

"Ivan the Bulgarian, huh? He sounds like the mom-shooting type, yeah. Do you know where our buddy Ivan is? Or is that what the code will tell me?"

He suddenly released Evan and stood up, giving the man a couple feet of space. An illusion; Nevermore could have the man locked up in seconds, or simply insensate, but now was the time to show just a hint of "nice cop".

"You tell me how to break the code, give me any other information relevant to Ivan's operation, and I'll leave you be and never breathe a word of your involvement to anyone. It's your business if you immediately go running or not. I certainly won't chase you after I've gotten Ivan hog-tied."

The young crime-fighter seems confident in his ability to take on such a notorious crime boss.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

"Ivan has a manor near the Opera House.  Bout ten miles South overlooking the water."  Ivan replied.  Clearly referring to the Beaudrie Opera House.  One of the Fens less sleazy mainstays it was a building that contrasted its environment.  The fact that it had lost the battle to age was the only sign that showed it had a place in the Fens.

 

"These guys use three cyphers.  I don't even know what the upper two are.  The lowest level of trust uses a code in something called Rot13.  The code works by replacing a letter with one in a position on the alphabet 13 steps ahead of it.  I'm not very good at puzzles.  They aren't usually messages with a lot of detail.  Even if orders are given on it, they're usually vague enough so as to leave room for deniability on interpretation.  Again this is for the lowest level of trust."  Even made sure to reiterate how low on the totem pole one had to be to know about that cypher.  Doing his best to make it clear he was small fish and not hiding that fact at all.

 

Taking a few steps away he bean to breathe a little easier.  "You'll really keep my word out of it?  Even when he's nailing you to the tracks with railroad spikes right?"  The bartender questioned hesitantly.  Lacking the same amount of confidence in Nevermore's success as the teen hero had.

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"So long as everything you tell me is true to the best of your knowledge, I will not breathe your name to Ivan, or the police."

Boss Lady would of course hear about it, but this punk didn't need to know that.

"Just give me any other information you have, and our business will be concluded, and you can get on with your day, whatever those plans might be."

The vigilante remained where he was, observing the slightly calmer, and definitely more cooperative, bartender. He also considered what to expect from this "Ivan" gentleman. It sounded like he ran a fairly tight operation, such as things go, but relied on fear more than anything.

Edited by KnightDisciple
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GM

 

"Markings.  I broker information.  But, even I don't know everything.  But, I know this the people working for the ones who sent that letter.  Well they have some hidden markings somewhere.  In case someone figures out stuff like passphrases or any of the cyphers.  So they can't just sneak in."  Evan manage to croak out.  His gaze remaining wary around Nevermore.

 

It might have served some use when dealing with the criminal sort that frequented the bartender for information to have a very low tolerance for trust.  But, it also helped to make an already squirmy man flat out terrified after being held rooftop hostage.  His expression continuing to lack assuredness that Nevermore would keep quiet once Ivan got a hold of him.

 

The handle on the door with roof access began to rattle furiously.

Edited by HG Morrison
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