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"Come one, come all, gentlemen," the Maestro said, gathering a crowd about him. "Now maybe you caught word of that fire at the Bismarck. Shame, shame." He held up a finger. "Worth a laugh though, and worth some money if you bothered stripping the dead once the deed was done. Now, I'm not saying I was there." He paused, taking a step away from the table. "Though, truth is, I was. An innocent bystander, but a bystander who's got what all of you might want. I mean jobs of course, the sort of jobs you all are looking for. Something a little exciting, something with some profit to it. Maybe, just maybe, something that'll make you rich."
They were a stupid looking lot for the most part, a bunch of easily manipulated ruffians with scars on their faces and chests that when added would make up their I.Q.s. "Now, some of you may or may not have heard of the Eldamane Trader's Consortium." He paused, eyes going to the roof. "Wait. Is that Eldamane Trading Company? Trader's Post?" His foot tapped on the floor, his eyes scanning the wood for a moment before he looked up again. "Whatever it is, the point was this..." he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a handful of coins, which he tossed casually into the air. Immediately a couple of the brutes began to push each other out of the way, forcing themselves to the fore as they attempted to grab at the money.
The Maestro shook his head. "See? You all must be hungry. I'm guessing your boss doesn't feed you well. I've got the hunch some of you work for One-Eye. Maybe some of you work for Fikker." He took a knife from his vest, tossing it downwards through the top of the table. "Well guess what gentlemen, you all work for coin, and that's exactly what I'm offering." The smile he'd worn to now suddenly faded, his face becoming emotionless and cold. "What I want to know is, which one of you is a killer?"
They were a stupid looking lot for the most part, a bunch of easily manipulated ruffians with scars on their faces and chests that when added would make up their I.Q.s. "Now, some of you may or may not have heard of the Eldamane Trader's Consortium." He paused, eyes going to the roof. "Wait. Is that Eldamane Trading Company? Trader's Post?" His foot tapped on the floor, his eyes scanning the wood for a moment before he looked up again. "Whatever it is, the point was this..." he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a handful of coins, which he tossed casually into the air. Immediately a couple of the brutes began to push each other out of the way, forcing themselves to the fore as they attempted to grab at the money.
The Maestro shook his head. "See? You all must be hungry. I'm guessing your boss doesn't feed you well. I've got the hunch some of you work for One-Eye. Maybe some of you work for Fikker." He took a knife from his vest, tossing it downwards through the top of the table. "Well guess what gentlemen, you all work for coin, and that's exactly what I'm offering." The smile he'd worn to now suddenly faded, his face becoming emotionless and cold. "What I want to know is, which one of you is a killer?"
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