The Chapterhouse in the travellers quarter was large, and quite busy with travellers coming and going. Young men and women who were looking for employment, or information to continue their own adventures. Corkboards were crowded with requests for employment. Bullitiens of Brotherhood services and activities. and a few requests for assistance by local scribes, craftsmen, and scholars.

  On the first floor the dorms were available for a few pence a day. they were large and offered a place to sleep and common bathing facilities for travellers on a budget. as well as a chance to meet others out on their own seeking adventure or employment in the open skis.

  On the second floor there were several dozen private rooms for rent. The rooms are small and simple. but they were clean Allowing a person some privacy over the open dorms that were available on the first floor.

Zi walked in from wandering the town and a frustrating buzz clouded his thoughts.  This city lacked the order and clarity of construction he was accustomed to.  Looking over the room that he had been directed to, he stopped inside the door and scanned the area slowly.  Emotionless, he walked to the board and quickly scanned each slip before moving to the store.

Looking directly at the attendant Zi began "I require a map of this city.  The more exact the better."  After dealing with the attendant Zi moves directly to the library and begin to pull books seemingly at random.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Sun 22 Jan 2012.

Alisdair sat in the lecture theatre, listening to yet another speaker go through the minutiae of his craft. Around him, many of the earnest-looking youngsters were scribing down notes, but he didn't bother: the only subjects he really needed to give his full attention to were ballistics and stealth, and neither of these normally involved theology (or, as the lecture had put it, 'The Theory of Teleological Invincibility', a phrase that made no sense whatsoever to Alisdair's mind). He had been at the Chapter House for a few days now, he was low on money, and he had still to have anyone inquire about the posting he'd left on the cork-board, but he still had enough to get by for a few more days, and the lectures had been interesting so far.

Stark pulled off his pulled off his flight cap and goggles as he entered the chapter house. There were crows feet at the corner of his stark, blue eyes. He ran a weather-beaten hand through his brown hair and rubbed his face. The tanned features of his chiseled face needed a shave. He sported a five-o-clock shadow and a thick, bushy mustache. Under his other hand, he clutched a small package covered with waxed, brown paper and tied with twine. He loosened his scarf and opened his heavy leather flight jacket.

He made his way to the front desk and set the package carefully on top. The clerk attempted to take the package but Stark shook his head and put a hand on it his face turning serious. The clerk instead pointed out one of the patrons sitting and reading a newpaper near a window. He nodded his thanks. He picked up the package and approached the man. The man stood and identified himself. Stark nodded and handed over the package.

He walked away from the man and sighed. Time to find a drink and think about his next job.

He noticed the query for a pilot and grabbed the information. You never knew, he was a Sky Courier but it wouldn't be the first time he'd delivered a person and not a package.

Brandy and cigars? He liked the cigars but he'd rather have a whiskey and soda. He flopped down at the bar and tossed his hat, gloves and jacket on the stool next to him and waited for the bartender.

Wandering out of the theatre, Alisdair headed over to the bar, to check on the noticeboard for any requests for mercenaries or body guards, and to check for any recently-posted bounties. He wasn't very hopeful, but there was always the chance that something of his calibre would come up (he found some grim amusement in the appropriateness of that phrase). A brief scan showed nothing particularly interesting, and he wandered over to the bar; on the off chance that someone there might have a job or two that needed doing. He was beginning to worry a little that he was going to run short of money before another job found him: the last one hadn't paid as well as he'd hoped, and he'd had to spend most of that on repairs to his weaponry.

  " good evening Gentlemen." The Bartender stepped up and refreshed Stark and Valintine's drinks. from the near empty bottle using the last bit to refil their glasses. " How are the Skies treating you today?"

"Bright and clear, my friend, bright and clear, he replied, "Say you know anything about the pilot request from the board?"

 " Ah that, one of the Initiates over at the Academy has himself a little job to do." The bartender shrugged. and motioned off toward the arcane sector of the city." He's looking to hire out a party to baby sit him while he collects flowers or something. Good money for a weeks work."

  " Until the flowers start biting back, You heard about all that weirdness out on the islands." A young woman slapped him on the shoulder." If he don't mind ducking Gadflies, and avoiding man eating plants it's good money. A swarm of those things is giving the gardeners a hell of a time. Whoever takes that job better stock up on bullets and citronella.

  The young associate Za'ha'na was speaking with scratched his head. " we have travellers maps, but the aren't that exact. streetnames, locations of shops, and official buildings."
  The young man offered one as he looked through a collection of maps in the public area. He found one that was more accurate but shook his head." This one is old, there has been a lot of consturction since it was printed."

     Perhaps the library has survey maps that are up to date. There were a lot of explorations a few years agao into the undercity looking for some artifact. No one ever found it but they did bring back detailed maps."

Zi stops as the man mentions an expedition for artifacts.  “Tell me about this expedition.  How long ago?  Who went?  What artifacts were they looking for? Are the records located here in this library?”  Zi grills the attendant for a few moments before following his direction and using the library to complete the research.

"Huh, not fitting a 'party' in a vanship," said grumbled to the bartender, "Biting plants? I don't think I care for my salad trying to eat me, if you know what I mean. Does this initiate have a plane?"

"A 'party'?" Alisdair looked interested, "Does he need armed backup? I could do with a job, the Skies have not been so bountiful as I might have liked."
He tossed his glass back across the bar to the bartender, "No more for me, I can't afford it and another night here."
Turning back to the discussion of a job he began questioning the young woman who had brought up the man-eating plants, "Do you know what these plant were like? How mobile? And what kind of ammunition do people suggest using? Or should one be using guns at all?" He wished now that he had been taking notes in the botany lecture that he had sat through the other day.

([OC: For those who like to hear an accent, Alisdair has a fairly soft, vaguely Germanic accent]

Listening to the young man who'd joined the conversation, he couldn't help but smile and thought, Spoken like true plant food, boy... Saw enough of his type in the military. He considered the type, gung ho, ready to kill anything or anyone that stood in their way... Yeah, they got people killed. People like him.

He threw back his whiskey and nodded to the bartender to fill him up again. "I don't suppose you serve food too?" he asked the bartender.

  " I can set you up with the Robe wanting to hire people out, thats about all I know." The bartender nodded as he served another round. And I hear they need the flyboy to keep the gadflies off their back. I hear they got a couple that can eat a man."

   " Its Horus Lucian up at the botany house." The Maid behind the bar spoke up,slapping the bartender on the shoulder and shooting him "The Look"" Don' you be tryin ta sell them no introductions, yer getting yer coin from that old scutter a'ready....and we can fix you both up something in a skip."

He supposed he could hear the lab rat out but he had no intentions on setting himself up as bug food.

He nodded gratefully at the barmaid, "Much abliged, miss. For the food and the intercept." He glanced at the bartender at the latter reference.

  :" Yeah You can go up to the botony house.It's the one made of glass. The bartender gave a slight shrug. He didnt seem put out by the lack of extra coin." You can't hurt a guy for trying can ya.... they need gun bearers, and someone to shoot down the gaflies is what he told me. And he can't get the locals to sign on for a week of cutting circles in the sky, or shooting triffids that get too close."

: OOC: common knowledge...triffids are mobile predatory plants that spit a powerful blindng toxin...sort of a boogey man type critter that usually only occurs in deep forests far from human settlement...usually only seen in penny dreadful novels, and a few showing up in the cinemas...( which are a new thing in most areas, so they usually look like men in leaf suits.)"

  " It was supposed to be some sort of crystal they used to hold information...a whole cache of them." The Clerk replied as he flipped though a card catalouge." They went down intot he undercity for about a month, tore open some old catacombs. All they found were some dusty bones and rags."
  Although they did find some artwork. I think the maps and the sketches are in the stacks, the records say we paid for copies of the expidition notes." the clerk handed Za'na'ha. A slip of papers with the numbers to the stack.

  checking the files he found a large box of maps, notes and sketches of a copies of personal journel notes from the expiditions archivist. Inside the notes describe a small tomb of several persons dressed in highly decorated masks that bore Ashantii inscriptions and several passages that defied translation.
  Flipping through the files he finds a name..Leoth Rosh. a Private collector that purchased the masks form the expidition.

Zi nodded at the archivist and moved briskly to the stack.  Pulling out one of his own notebooks he made a concise extract of the notes in compact shorthand and paused.  He processed the images of the masks and made an accurate, but uninspired, copy of the mask.  Looking over the symbols he made some notes and considered the possibilities.  Absently he tapped his pen for a few moments, then looked down at the hand in curiosity and stopped the habit.  Returning to the paper he made some cross references on the page to some other notes in other books and tried to puzzle them out.  Turning to a new page he began the task of collating the maps.
Finished he stood and collected his notes.  His mind worked quickly as he considered the next action and moved to the lobby and then the bar.  There were a fair number of people and the odds were this was the place where people would know other people.  Moving up to the bar he looked at the patrons blankly then at the barkeep.  “I am looking for man named Leoth Rosh, a private collector who bought some art work from an expedition several months ago.  I am to understand he is known to this establishment.  Do you know where I can find this individual?” The lack of preamble or introductions seem to be lost on his as he stands waiting for an answer.

"Gadflies and Triffids? With air support that shouldn't be too difficult, although is sounds more suited to heavy weapons support than myself, ideally with incendiary rounds for the plant-life. But I'll take it, should there still be an opening. Where is the gentleman who posted this?
He would have liked to join the older man for food, but he didn't want to assume he was getting the job, and if it fell through he didn't want to be sleeping on the streets.