Nov 19 11:17:05 107 PA - Recruiting for Janosik the Hood
From Chronicles
Nov 19 11:17:05 107 PA.
NIGHTINGALE: Recruiting for Janosik the Hood
Noon isn't a time most tend to come to a place like the Nightingale. It makes it quieter than normal and a good place to work for someone who could use a good mix of silence and company. Vixen is there, settled into a booth. Her variety of weapons is left at the front, but her bag is set in the seat beside her, a portable computer opened up on the table before her. Next to it is a small camera, both link to one another and slender data cable connecting the computer to a spot behind her right ear. She works at the machine quietly, a relaxed expression worn and a half empty glass close to hand to hint at her lingering.
Sure, noon might not be a busy time for many people. But today, if you count two people as being 'busy' then the men entering the club-slash-restaurant will count as 'busy.' However, the two obviously pure-human men also stick out like the colloquial sore thumbs, wearing what can be described, at best, as a hillbilly's finest cotton-wool-blend suit. Clearly, they are uncomfortable, both mentally and physically. They each have small, normal knives tucked into belts. The most exciting technology seems to be the taller man's wristwatch. Very hesitantly, they both begin to move into the club, wandering among other patrons, slowly making their way to the bar, like people in the Tattooine Cantina.
Being a nightclub, the low, canned music that plays is less offensive than is played during peak time. And the low population makes the two all the more obvious. Vixen glances over at them as her hands move from the computer's keyboard, letting it process the directions given it. She leans back, considering them as she picks up her glass, dark amber liquor swigged lightly. Her head cocks, enhanced ear focused and filtered.
The two men seem to stop short of actually ordering drinks. Their eyes clearly gaze over at the attractive young woman. Younger than them, in all likelihood. But together they turn and shuffle off in her direction, both of them pointing at the very impressive wristwatch. The taller one asks in deep baritone, with a tempo much like that of a shy kid asking the popular girl to prom, "Um, would you talk to me. And Wandern ?" Wandern seems to be the other man's name.
Vixen has also shed her coat for sitting, it making for a much more comfortable time sitting. She spots them coming, of course. And makes no illusions about it. Her glass set aside as they near and ask their question. She tilts her head slightly and smirks a little. "Depends what you want to talk about," she replies, a light amusement in her flinty voice. "Sit." She points at the opposite side of the booth. "And talk. Vixen will listen." She slips the computer to the side slowly, leaning against the edge of the table.
The shorter one asks, "You're Vixen?" Kind of an obvious question, but there it is. Neither of them seem comfortable with sitting. The shorter one - Wandern - sits a whole table away, the taller, yet-unnamed one is cosmopolitan enough to sit at a bar stool. He then leans very conspiratorially toward the woman, gazing longingly at her piles of tech. Or at least, piles in his eyes. "So look, we need help. There's ah, this guy who keeps coming into our town and taking our money. We just can't afford it anymore. Kind of a sad story, really." Wandern pipes up: "Tell her the story!" However, the other man simply sputters for a short moment.
Vixen nods when asked her name. "Video Vixen," she confirms, a casual grin worn. She considers the two, her sense of amusement lingering as they 'settle'. She considers the story the two brush upon and as the shorter entreats the taller, she nods and motions. "Come over here and sit. No sense talking across space. Bench won't bite you. And I won't either. Details are good."
Wandern, who may actually be relatively close to Vixen's age, is hesitant, but in that manner of high school students, he moves slowly.. then darts over to an adjacent bench. He manages to find his voice, but it's softer than a hamster's belch. Also similar in tone. "We're from a place called Santocko. About three-hundred of us. Mostly farming, but also some blacksmithing and stuff like that. Sometimes hire out as strong backs. We really don't have much tech." His eyes then dip again, at which point the other man begins, "Uh yeah, hi. I'm Tuetz. Tuetz Eulam. So anyway," he hesitates and scratches at his neck, obviously shy. "So yeah, we used to be robbed by a group of merchants who ran our little town. Every time we'd start to get some money, they'd bring in thugs, and take a bunch of our money and leave us poor." The other man pipes up, but is waved away. Tuetz continues. "There was this guy, young guy, about five years ago. Smart kid named Janosik." He then looks away, blushing and silent, for the time.
"And you're looking for some guns to deal with the thugs," Vixen reasons casually. "Though what's this Janosik got to do with anything?" Her tone simple and straightforward. "Some details on that if it matters to the situation. And these thugs.. how many? And what sort of gear do they pack? Pistols? Rifles? Explosives? Vehicles?" She smirks a little and leans back. "This is the sort of stuff mercs are going to want to know. See what kind of opposition they can expect."
"Oh, uhh.." Man, it really is like listening to a painful sophomore-year book report given by the class's slow kid. The man isn't stupid, he's just out of his element. "Well," continues Tuetz, "Janosik, see, he actually beat back the merchants. He started to take their money, which was actually our money of course, and gave it back. He was a hero!" Wandern pipes up, acknowledging, "He was a hero!" Tuetz continues talking right over top of the younger Wandern. "Anyway, yeah, the town was really happy. In fact, I guess this is a little embarrassing... Janosik put together a couple of people, and they totally ran the guys out of town. Now it's just them and us." His friend pipes up. "Tell her all of it!" The next blurt of words come out as a mish-mash of two people talking at the same time. "Well, I guess the power kind of went to his head. Because it's all turned around now. It's like it was before, except that this time, it's one of our own stealing money from us." The two men look at each other for confirmation, obviously a little confused at how to directly answer Vixen's question regarding technology. "Uh, well, there are ten of them. Janosik, a second guy who kind of directly commands seven other guys, just seven normal bad guys, you might call them. There's a third, a woman. She's, well, a little different. Maybe like a psychic or something, but she never really seems to do anything. We don't know." He shrugs again, and the two men go back to arguing about how to describe the technology.
Vixen delves into a mix between amused and vaguely annoyed as the two young men work out details between themselves. She's sat at a booth with one of them sitting across and the other nearby. She's settled without her weapons compliment and her bag and coat bundled into the both beside her. Her computer and h and camera are set on the table to the side, linked to each other and her. She sighs and lifts up her glass, taking a slow drink from it before she sets it aside. "Alright, look.. guys." Her voice lifts a bit in a bid to get their attention. "Limited details. Pistols? Rifles? Explosives? Basic categories like that."
The men continue to talk, then seem to finally agree. For once, it's Wandern who does the talking. "Well, Janosik, he's really tough. I've never seen a better fighter. As kid, he never lost a fight. Now? He has this, ah, like -" he tries to shape out the size of something with his hands, maybe framing something four feet long "- this big, some rifle, energy thing. About this long. Everybody knows that it's an expensive custom job. Pistols, swords, grenades, one of those mace things that knocks you out. He's just really tough. I wouldn't want to fight him." Tuetz rolls his eyes and tries to shush Wandern away from scaring prospective saviors. "They all have rifles, and they all have pistols. They all have regular pistols, too. Janosik makes everyone carry one so that he can shoot one of us, since we don't have armor, without vaporizing us." The man then shrugs and gives in. "I wouldn't want to fight them either. But that's why were here trying to hire people to fight them for us. I guess it's a, ah... 'dead or alive' scenario. As long as they're gone."
"So you've got nine guys and a chick that might have mind powers and you want 'em gone? Dead is probably how it will go down," Vixen replies. "Though a straight up brawl would be messy.. not just for them and who ever is brawling, but for your place getting caught in that kind of crossfire." She leans back a little and says. "So I suppose that means talking about what they do now. Where they gather, what sort of things they do around your place. How they treat travelers.. that kind of thing. The sort of path that leads to divide and conquer."
At some point, Sage enters the club and lets her gaze drift over the room. Once her gaze settles on Vixen, she begins to move towards the familiar woman. She considers those around the other woman as she approaches.
Wandern gets up the guts to chuckle. "We don't get travelers. Santocko is two-hundred and fifty miles from here and any other significant civilization. We basically live on our own, trading caravans come through once a week. A little network of small towns. No travelers. And they don't come in when the caravans are in town. Only after they're gone. The caravans know it, too." Tuetz then speaks. "We don't know exactly where they live, but it's somewhere up in the local mountains. Tough place to go. Steep. Rocky." He holds a hand up to indicate the slop (apparently) - it's steep. "Lots of places for people to fall, if they aren't careful." The eyes of the two men, one in his early thirties, the other early twenties, remain fixed on Vixen, as the rest of the world is currently tuned out, in their uncomfortableness at being here in the first place. "What do they do when they come in? Depends. Most of the time, they just come in and collect. We don't have anything. Nothing that could hurt them, anyway. Most of us are just farmers, y'know? They just walk into town wearing armor, with all the weapons hanging off 'em." The younger man speaks up after Tuetz is done. "But sometimes, after a caravan comes through, they come in different. Like, sneaky, kind of. Never know that they're there until they're there." He looks away and barely, barely audiblizes, "Mostly they do that when someone has stayed around to get rid of them. I don't know how they know. But they just kill 'em, right there on the spot." His eyes then look up pleadingly. "We really need help. We're running out of everything. People are getting sick and dying because we don't have medicine, because when we sell our crops, Janosik and his gang take most of our money."
"So they have some other hideout." Vixen considers that quietly for a few moments, then says, "I'm not a merc, honestly. But I figure I might be able to help you guys out. Plenty of guns around here without enough to do most times. Though there ain't too many that work for free. But maybe the salvage from those boys would cover that at least. Might need to have some scouts out there first, get the lay of the land before any real action. I'll think about it some. Maybe see who I can't scare up."
"Whatever you think best," Tuetz states. "You know better than I do." The two men look at each other, embarrassed. "I can't really offer you much for a reward, but if you can beat them, you can take anything from them you want. Anything. Even whatever money they have. Consider that our reward, since it's our money to start with. We'll just start over and build up new cash. It'll work out." Wandern looks also embarrassed, but happy at being able to make the offer. "Who else should we talk to?" Eyes pan the room, perhaps assuming that all of the world's finest warriors relax at the Nightingale.
Having kept quiet, Sage picks up a little on the conversation. "I guess this has something to do with some of the trouble I've been hearing about." She comments simply, as she looks between the two of them.
Vixen considers the two, but Sage's arrival distracts her from answering at once. "Heard these two were out looking for help." She lets her eyes pan back to the two as she sums up, "Local boy makes it big, beats off local thugs only to go thug himself. Got nine guys total, unknown armor, rifles, pistols. Possible custom job for him. And a tenth.. a chick that may be psychic." She glances at Sage. "Friendly resolution unlikely. Got a list of idle guns on hand?" She grins and looks back to the two youths. "Who to ask? You'll know the sort. The more guns someone carries, the more likely they are to have intent to use them to get paid if the cost or the cause are right. Want to find them? Go to where the guns are."
Sage nods faintly to Vixen's comment, before glancing briefly to the men then back to Vixen. "Idle guns? I have a few more now... people to shoot them on the other hand is a different matter." She replies before pursing her lips, "Any idea what kind of psychic?" She asks simply before looking back to the men since they likely have that potential answer.
The two men, one early thirties, one early twenties, are positioned near Vixen at the bar. The older one is standing, the younger one sitting. They're both dressed in what appear to be the best clothes of hick farmers from distant locales. The taller one looks to the newly arrived woman, Sage, with some surprise, as if he's only just noticed her. Which happens to be the absolute Gospel truth. His young friend had been opening his mouth to answer Sage's question, but as Vixen summarizes the situation accurately, they're both quiet. The older man says simply, "Yeah, that's about it. We need help. We, well... we just don't have any ability to save ourselves. The only way to save ourselves would be to pick up and move. Even then they might just follow us." The younger man states, "We don't want to move into a city like this."
The older man shakes his head. "We don't know if she's actually psychic. She just kind of has that look about her. Never done anything psychic, as far as we know. But of course, sometimes you can't really tell if anyone's being psychic, can you?"
"Details are few," Vixen notes to Sage. She slowly closes her computer as she adds, "The people is what I'm more focused on. Ten is not a small number.. but that's where tactics and better gear comes in.. hopefully. As long as these guys aren't sporting that alien tech I hear about, should be ok." She shrugs. "If nothing else, we can have a look, see what's what. Too hot, reevaluate. Well, we being whoever goes." She pulls her pack over, starting to disconnect devices and put them away.
Rain, rain, rain. Why is it always rain? Leonard enters the club and shakes the excess from his umbrella before closing it to be carried further inside. Edgar must also dislike the rain, or is merely feeling lazy, as he is perched on one shoulder.
The older man speaks again. "Like I said, we aren't fighters. Sure, scare away a wolf or a fox, keep them away from the cows and the chickens. Keep deer out of the crops. Don't even know where the gang stays, just up in the mountains. But maybe if you could get some of the other men to put their lives on their line, well.." the younger man nods to him, ".. might be able to show you places you might hide. Don't know if would actually help, though."
Sage's gaze slides over to the older man before letting her eyes narrow ever so faintly, "And what exactly do you mean by 'has that look about her'?" She asks carefully, restraining herself from activating any of her powers for the time being. Then she lets Vixen's comment draw her attention away. "And, I think I heard something about sick as I was approaching." She adds with a nod.
The older man, Tuetz, turns away, looking back into the booth's darker corners, but Wandern manages to find his voice. "You know. That look. Kind of spacey, like she's seeing things that aren't there. You kind of worry like she can read your mind or something." He shrugs. "But no one's ever proven that. We just worry about it. Just spacey. Like she's just... out there." Whether or not it's realized that he may have insulted Sage rides past the man from the distant village. "Yeah, sick. They're bleeding us dry." Ooh, the man is finding vocabulary! "We don't have enough money to buy the medicines that we need. Even some of the common illnesses are really hurting people. Nobody's died yet... but it'll happen, if we can't buy medicine." He then snorts, hard. "We're farmers. But they take so much from us that we can't even feed ourselves. How messed up is that?"
Vixen lifts a casual hand towards Sage as she notes, "How most mystical folk like to look. Not much heavy armor, strange clothes and other shit like that. Not carrying big guns. Not all of them do, but when someone looks like that, there's usually a reason. They either think things or they do the whole finger wiggle thing. Either way, best to put them down quick if they ain't on your side before they start up." She considers the two men, then says to Sage, "What they said." She lifts a hand towards them. "That sounds like your forte, not mine." She then slips from her side of the booth. "I need to get going. Business. You can give them a talk, I'll meet up with you later.." She pauses, then spots Leo and waves him over. "Leo. Come talk to these two. Figure out where they live, would ya?"
Leonard notices the wave and some of the conversation when he comes near. "Is someone in need of wiggled fingers?" He smiles to Vixen and Sage, then looks curiously to the men. "Where do you live, and what's the worry?"
Sage's gaze shifts back to the older one and her expression darkens a little further this time. "I think someone's main worry will be pulling his foot out of his mouth if he keeps going like he is..." She comments with a mildly testy tone, "Do you... perhaps... dislike psychics, sir?" She adds as her arms begin to cross, trying her best not to look spacey or weird. She does let her gaze drift briefly to Vixen. "Probably." She agrees, offering a brief faint smile. She also takes a moment to glance towards Leonard to acknowledge him with a nod.
"What?!" exclaims the older man, Tuetz. "I ain't got nothing against psychics. None of us do. Yeah, we try to be aware of 'em, because they aren't always so nice, but a person's a person, y'know? Only reason I point her out is to give as much information as I can." Tuetz looks quite honestly insulted, in a very homey way. Not that he's going to ride it out his life as a grudge, just a little miffed at someone making an assumption about him. As he remains quiet, arms crossed to parallel Sage's, the younger man, Wandern, speaks. "If she's a psychic, and like Tuetz said, I'm only saying *if* she's a psychic, and the bad kind, she's not like we normally think of them. She carries a big ol' cannon, and a pistol, armor, just like everybody else. It's just when you see her eyes.. spacey."
"Relax Sage. A lot of people do. I ain't partial to most until I'm sure they're alright," Vixen notes, taking a moment to slide on the heavy coat. It clinks lightly as she does. Things within.. or just the subtle plating here and there that makes it what it is. "And if this chick is one of 'em, she's a rude one." She then considers the two and what they have to say before she grunts. "I suppose some have to break the mold." She shakes her head and moves over to Leo, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Get me details, babe? We can talk it over soon. The Laramy trip too." She glances towards Sage. "With you two if you're up for considering a little outing. Going to be rough though. Either way, I'll see you two later. Business calls." And with that she goes.
"And to think I always thought that a woman watching me with starry eyes was a good thing..." Leonard is still attempting to decipher exactly what he walked into, but does it with a grin. "Try not to be out too late, Vix..." If she heard, he doubts she will listen, anyhow. "So..." He turns back to look between Sage and the men. "Who are we talking about?"
Sage nods faintly to Vixen, "I know." She replies simply, "I just don't want to be hated for trying to help." She adds, before looking to the younger man. She smiles faintly, "You said it better." She comments before letting her arms begin to relax and glancing towards the older man. "I just had to know where you stood." She offers with a faint shrug before looking to Leonard. "Sounds like they're having trouble with thugs that want to beat up on farmers and steal than do something else with their lives." She comments, before she leans faintly against the booth.
The two men look to each other briefly, then Tuetz speaks. "Uh, I'm sorry, this is the first time we've ever gone looking for.. ah, well, military assistance. To summarize our problem, we have a man who grew up in our town - only about two-hundred and fifty of us - and overthrew some people who were really taking advantages of us. They pretended nobility, but they were little more than high-brow thieves. They would steal everything that we had, leaving just enough for us to start over and make money again." He shrugs. "We're just farmers and a few blacksmiths. This watch that I'm wearing is probably the most technological thing we own, and some hunting rifles." The younger man, Wandern, then speaks. "But this guy, his name is Janosik, it's like the power went to his head. He drove the other guys out of town, then realized that he could do the same thing. Then, well, that other woman summarized the rest of it pretty well. They live in the mountains, they come in when no one knows they're coming, they take our things, and we can't do anything about it. So we're looking for people who can." Finally, once more flipping speakers, Tuetz says, "Like I said, the only reward we can offer is whatever you can walk away with. But that includes any money they've stashed. It's our money anyway, so it's like a secondary reward." But then, Wandern speaks up a final time. A final, final time. "This guy, Janosik, he's the scariest fighter anyone's ever seen."
Leonard ahs and nods in understanding. "A bully replaced by another. Unfortunately, it is all too common. I'm sure that there are a few of us willing and possibly able to assist. Though, if you never know when they'll strike next, it could be a lengthy hunt to find them."
Sage purses her lips as she considers the information presented, "There may be a way to help things along..." She comments simply, "Have these people ever left behind anything that belongs to them?" She pauses, "And, I may be able to help out the sick. If they have known illness, I can try to prepare something about its time to head there."
The two men lean in to each other again, privately discussing something, then rather heatedly discussing something in stage whispers. When they're finally done, the older man, Tuetz addresses Leonard first. "Well... we can never tell exactly when they're going to come. Not the exact day or hour. But there are merchant caravans up by our little town - called 'Santocko' - if you care. Come through every week or two. Like I said, we're really distant. Just a bunch of towns connect by trade. Janosik and his men, they come down after the caravans leave. Not like a perfect thing that you can time, but close enough." He looks to his friend, then says, "We can bring you up. Try to hide you until a caravan comes through and leaves. The gang will come by, soon after." Then to Sage, he seems morbidly amused. "Leave anything? No. All they do is take. They've become so greedy that I don't think they'd even spit on the ground, for fear of losing something that belongs to them."
"If there is time," Leonard suggests, "I would very much enjoy a visit to your town before the caravans leave. We could then wait or return when this Janosik might soon come. We are not soldiers, by any means, but I think we could make him think twice about returning, and possibly help the sick." He dips his head to Sage, who already offered to do that.
Sage considers the two men as they converse, before deciding to pass once more on drifting into their surface thoughts. She simply gives the matter some thought. "Getting there with a little time might give us a chance to figure out how and perhaps where we can try to convince them." She comments, "There may be some others that could be interested... if they aren't too busy with other issues."
"No, I'm sorry, I'm not being rude, but we won't hire you for that." Wandern shakes his head at Leonard. "No, they need to be dead, or captured and dealt with. We saw what happened once when we thought that we'd simply driven off evil. They were just replaced. In fact, the only reason we trust you is that we're too far out of the way, and probably too poor for you to bother with." A nod is offered to Sage. "I'm not a fighter. But we can shelter you. But there's no convincing them. It sounds harsh, but they have to die, or they get captured. Not run off only to run back." The other man speaks. "We'd appreciate it if you'd pass this information on to others. I said there are ten of them, and three of them are *very* good at what they do. Janosik, his second, and the psychic woman. The other guys, well.. they're good, too. So if you talk to who you know, we'd be grateful."
Leonard chuckles at the response as he shrugs. "Well, it would make them all reluctant to threaten others if they are captured or killed, wouldn't it? Leaving some as prisoners in your tender care would be fitting, I think. You and your neighbors could then discuss all the grievances you have with them." Leonard isn't very fond of bullies.
Sage purses her lips as she considers the response, before glancing to Leonard to see how the man reacts. "If what you say, a fight might be unavoidable." She comments, "But, perhaps we can change the topic to your sick... what kind of illnesses do they have? I had made a living by helping communities through tough times before an undead threat caused us to flee here."
Once again, the two men look to each other, and once again, the older man speaks. "Common diseases. We don't have any real proper plumbing. We don't have much medicine. I know, I'm sure you're thinking that we're a bunch of backwoods hicks, but we do what we can, we do what we know, we do our best." He seems very defensive, so the younger man raises his voice. "Well, dehydration. Simple diarrhea. Our water supply needs to be purified, and we don't have enough money to buy the machines and chemicals to do it. Spotted fever, encephalitis - I only know those names because one of the caravans had a doctor. But he only stayed long enough for us to pay him to diagnose, then he left. Even had a little girl on the edge of death from a bee sting. Fortunately, she came back." He shrugs. "Diseases, colds... things that no one should ever have trouble with. At least, not to this level." As his words trail off, he gives the impression of a man who has clearly been beaten down by unfortunate circumstance. "No one has died, yet. But it's only time."
"There are people who might be able to help your village with health concerns, but medicine isn't my talent." This is probably why Leonard deferred to Sage on the topic before. "I can always ask on your behalf. Some fight, some heal... or something like that." He smiles to Sage and adds, "Vixen probably knows someone who knows someone who could share some knowledge or equipment. Speaking of whom," Leonard begins to excuse himself, "I should go and find out what business pulled her away, this time."
Sage purses her lips once more before nodding, "Alright... I'll see if I can lay my hands on some water purification chemicals to ensure some safe water. Might be able to find a new source while I'm there." She comments, "Might be hard to pick out the right medicines without knowing variants." She glances to Leonard. "The treatments should be fairly straight-forward... just need the right supplies." Then she nods faintly, "Take care." She comments, before looking to the two men. "How big is your settlement again?"
"About two-hundred and fifty of us, give or take natural life cycles. But big families. Six or eight people to a household, sometimes more. Only newlyweds have small homes." As Tuetz states that final bit of information, the much younger man blushes a bright, nearly fluorescent maroon and looks away. The older man seems to get a little bit of humor out of it, before returning to the serious matter at hand. "It's mostly the young and the old, of course. We don't have any psychic healers or anything, you know. We're just people." The older man reaches over and gives Wandern a squeeze on the shoulder. "Is there anything else you want to know? Anything else we can tell you? Because if not, we should be going, see if there aren't more people interested. Well, at least maybe interested. We'd be eternally grateful if you'd help out, but we - our whole town - understand if you don't want to put yourself, or any of those other two, at risk."
Sage considers the question before shaking her head, "No, nothing else for now." She replies before pursing her lips, "Don't count me out just yet, though." She comments, letting her thoughts turn morbid with curiosity before she pushes the feeling off to the side. Then she goes to the bar, figuring a drink might be a nice thing to have right about now.
As the woman gets up to leave, the two men leave only a quick place that they can be reached, some rat hole motel just on the bare outskirts of the 'Dregs. They also make it clear that they'll be available to speak to anyone, at any time. After that, they awkwardly shuffle their country clothing out of the cosmopolitan Nightingale of Kingsdale.
