Welcome to Gaia! ::

"The hell on Gaia is going on out there? Do you have any idea who I am? ... fine, just get this door open."

The voice was male, but somewhat high pitched, a little whiny. Put out. But agreeable, it seemed, with the thought of freedom put to him. Indeed, the scrabbling had stopped, and as he was talking, it was a fair hope that the voice's owner wasn't having some kind of frenzy.

As the cell opened, a scrawny, sunken eyed individual was revealed, in clothing that had once been velvet finery, now turned tawdry by the dust and rough handling of captivity. Nevertheless, the black haired male drew himself up like a puffy cat.

"My name is Damien, son of the 2000 year old Count Najjar of Prussia, I'll have you know!"

Glancing in the direction Corbin indicated, he idly sneered, clearly speaking without really engaging his brain, out of some old habit.

"Illusions? Psh. Childs play."

He said nothing more, tossing his dirty hair from his eyes, and sprinting for the exit presented to him, after clearly resisting the urge to visit the corpse in the cell he had to pass en route.

Whether the vampyr knew what happened or not would never be known, those few faithful in hearing distance falling on him like a pack of wolves, a barrage of shots unleashed as they charged him, bringing him to the floor before they then caused immense screams from the poor dumb sap as they touched him, the scent of burning filling the air.

The way to the door out was as clear as it would be, attention elsewhere.... but the clamour was being reported by one who had not gone to put the boot into Damien, and that feeling of faith started closing in much faster now.

Gabriel, it could be assumed, was en route. And Damien continued to scream.

"No one's passed otu this way. We'll lock down here and send two men downstairs. Doc's upstairs in the usual place Mitch. Get the kid dropped off, and go see Gabriel. I'll radio to check the inner perimeter. They cant have gone far."

The reporting man answered Corbin;s calls, and turned to enact the orders he'd just said he'd give. This left Corbin with two choices.
Head up the old escalator (currently acting as stairs) to the second floor where the doc supposedly was, or down the opposite wing of the arcade, which did indeed have another entrance onto the street (there were four in all, one at the end of each 'arm' of the arcade, onto two different streets, but predictably... each door had its own small group of defenders manning it.

Of course, this said nothing for the windows on the second floor, or the access doors in the back of many stores which once were used to take in stock from delivery trucks.

Indeed, a small loading bay existed, backing out into a small alley slightly larger than the average delivery truck, which then connected to the main throughfare nearby.

Wires hung where the alarm had been tampered with, presumably someone had been trying to get it working, but several wires hung unconnected, and no immediate claxxon went off when Corbin opened it.

That wouldn't stop sharp ears from picking up the shout a few moments later from the nearest main exit team.

"Message from base! Someone's tripped the silent alarm! West side perimeter, have both gate teams intercept! It's got to be them!"

The message took a whole minute form Corbin bashing down the door to get radio'd through, and it would take a further two minutes minimum for the teams at the exits to converge on the spot.

Time enough to run? One could only hope so. For the wrath of an angry god had made it to the main arcade floor by now, and was joining one of those teams heading for the spot... gabriel was fast, when eh wanted to be.

Celerity was the right choice. It had him out of the immediate vicinity very swiftly, and sowed confusion in the wake of the hunters, who of course headed for his last known location.

In mere moments, he would be so well outside of their ability to follow he could at last confirm he'd reached safety.
And apparently... without going fully active.

In the loading bay, Gabriel stopped in the alley of the loading dock, pushed brown hair out of piercing blue eyes, and gazed up at the stars. Grunting, he shook off his aura of power, knowing the chase was done and their quarry gone. Within minutes, he hunters had all vanished back inside, following his orders.

No answer. At least, not immediately. but there was a feeling of connection. It took about three minutes before he'd hear her, the delay unexplained.

.: Sounds like a good job so far. Come back, I want a full debrief, and to meet this witch you've liberated. Do you need a pick up? :.

Her voice was calm and quiet, a faint hint of approval in the tone as she asked him about return journey. No doubt she would dispatch Jan should he wish it.

The walk did the young pirate good he had after the first hour completely emptied his mind of the worry that had wormed into him. The techniques that Roan had taught him were working well and as much as it wounded his pride the blood had too. As he hit the dockland Dagoth spotted the usual look outs from the pirate fleet, thieves’ guild and other assorted gangs. He moved normally with the flow of’ human’ traffic, moving to right with each step more and more towards the whore houses, bars and various pawn shops. As he walked a young couple appeared in front of him pawing and laughing at each other, Dagoth caught out of the corner of his eye other people flanking him. Even here in Gaia the pirate was heavily armoured and not wearing any crew signs at all. He continued to be shadowed until he was within a few steps of the couple, he rubbed the back of his head as he passed them the fingers in his hair making several quick and subtle shapes. Within seconds he was alone again, grinning to himself that at least the welcome sign hadn’t changed.
Dagoth took several side streets, doubled back on himself and blended the best he could into the crowd before he arrived at his destination. When he stopped the pirate let out a large laugh from the bottom of his guts, he pointed up at the pawn shop sign.

“The Booty…..Peter you sad ******** b*****d.”

The pirate shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and moved towards the door. The door opened welcoming the pirate was welcomed surprisingly but an electronic bell, he stopped just inside the doorway and stared at the door.

”That’s not right”

”Still not put you in a box eh yanker?”

Dagoth turned to meet the brash southern American male voice abusing him from the other side of the room, he was a broad and still dangerously powerful man in his late 50s. He had a large pot belly that the black shirt he wore barely covered him, the leather trousers creaked as the man moved in the old battered chair. His face was battered and pock marked from years of hard living, the nose was flattened and broken from repeated fights and his head was lightly halo’d by a strip of white hair.

”You’re not welcome here, she told me what happened. ******** off.” There was no hiding the truth in the man’s voice.

”Peter for years you’ve kept our stuff safe, we trusted you above all others, you telling me that now. Now, you won’t do business with me? You won’t take my gold, to high and ******** mighty to do it?”

The tension had cut the conversation there, both men stood at an impasse with the pirate burning holes through Peter. He could see the older man working over what to say or do, the years they had known each other and the fact Dagoth had been part of the crew that had saved Peter’s life.
After a few more awkward minutes Peter sighed and broke the silence fully.

”Fine, but I owe you nothing. No loyalty and no covering your a**. Just business.”

“Business it is, the letter has the shopping list and I need you to hold this is in the usual arrangement. Payment is also inside, any problems you know how to reach me.”

Dagoth dropped the paper evelope and the duffel on to the counter to his left, he turned sharply and moved towards the door and was about to speak with Peter interrupted him.

”When they came looking for ya. She was mighty mad….”

”I’ll be back in 3 hours.”

With that Dagoth was gone. It was not a conversation he wanted to hear or even know about there was no going back now. This was where he was and where he would stay, no matter what this was his path or at least he hoped it was.