Endgame

"Not our guy, but another worker... Our killer has a type, Ronin," Decker says, pocketing the ID. He just shakes his head at the scene in front of him. It was horrid, but Elfonn's magic sparkles and mushroom brain had nearly desensitized him. Until he saw that his brain was outside his body. "Hurrrkkk... Oh, jeez... When this is over, I'm marchin' into the hall and orderin' a couple hundred pints. Or demanding that they pay for a counselor or somethin'. Or, both." "What d'ya say we just pick a direction and go? I vote the nearest right," Decker says, pointing to the turn closest to them.

Decker rushes over to the side of the dead body. "Wait, why am I runnin'? Man's already dead... Hopefully it's not our man..." Decker turns the body over and looks for any signs of what did him in, and, perhaps more pertinently, any signs of who the poor soul was. "Talk about setting the mood of this place right off the bat, eh, Ronin?" Decker asks, trying to defuse the situation with some levity."Just... Gods, ow many more o' tese are we gonna find in these tunnels? Somethin' awful is going on here..."

Decker helps Ronin up alongside Hector. "That was some whack you took there, bud. C'mon, let's get you back on your feet..." As Decker hoists his comrade up, he glances over at the redcapped cyborg. "Reid Zemke? Decker, nice to meetcha. And no sweatin' it. How it's meant to work, right? Would be no fun if we all rooted for the same guy. Do you and Kenshi go back, or are you just a home team kinda fella?" "Well, that is mighty nice of ya, but ya don't have to-" And then, sparkles. Decker blinks in disbelief, looking at the mushroom. A few glints of color and light fall onto its cap before those too dissipate. "...D-did he say next time?" Decker mutters under his breath. "Ronin, did you see the-? He just-?" Decker swallows his bewilderment. "Don't mention it. It was the least I could do. Plus, bein' a hooligan used to be my specialty. And.. Well. Uh. Totally normal happenings aside like the weirdo mushroom man turnin' to unicorn sparkles, we have a choice to make. We didn't exactly win that one, so it would still be us two against whatever monster is splashin' around in the sewers. And I don't know if I trust the police with this one. We got the holy candles... should we swallow our fear and go get 'im? What do you think?"

The scrapper's stomach does a backflip as he sees that cap get removed. Was that... Huh? Did nobody else see that? Does everyone else know that there was a fungus among us? Was elfonn even alive, or was he now just being piloted by a bunch of mushrooms in his head? Was it contagious? Was it - Decker inhales sharply, and decides that this can be addressed at a later time. Possibly with copious amounts of fire if need be. "Ah... Ha ha, yeah, uh, buddy. Glad ta... be able to help ya out... Haaaahhh... I'm gonna go... root over there, if you don't mind..." Decker goes over to Pip console him. "Hey, bud, ya win some ya lose some. I love the hustle." Finally, he addresses the crowd. Seems like everyone pitched their lot. Time to hit Kenshi where it hurts. "'Kay, everyone! Lets get LOUD! ALL TOGETHER NOW, PEOPLE! GO RONIN!" Decker rallies Ronin!

Something in the pit of Decker's stomach made him want to run for the hills when Elfonn locked eyes with him, but he had to persevere. Their fortune in this battle wasn't going to reverse by pure chance. "Gonna be honest with ya, bud? I got no dang clue. Uh, maybe..." Decker shifts his eyes back to the shambling pile of mushrooms, and then back to Elfonn (shudder) before an idea strikes him. He takes the mushrooms he plucked from the sewers out to Elfonn. "...Would these do the trick for ya, mate?"

Decker grits his teeth as he watches Ronin take a nasty hit. This wasn't going ideally. Stalemate, and then - out of nowhere - a massive blow. Damn samurai. I really, really, really do not want to talk to this guy. Oh, ta hell with it all. "C'mon guys! Make some noise! Y'all have seen bigger comebacks than this before, make some noise!" Decker hollers, making his way over to - does he blink? Do his eyes get dry? Is it the mushrooms? It's gotta be the mushrooms, yeah? Candidly Decker slips 10 credits to Elfonn Deshelf. "More credits are waiting for ya if we win this. Plus, we'll shoot th' shit on mushrooms."

"Come on Ronin! LET'S GO! Show 'im what you've got, eh?!" Decker calls out, channeling some of his energy from his youth (well, like, 6 or 7 years ago), of being an absolute hooligan at Starhawk games. Decker had a set of pipes on him made for yelling. "Hector, you and I, we gotta get more people rooting for the winning team here," Decker explains. He gestures to the one-eyed bookseller. "He seems like he'd know how to tilt things in our boy's favor. Want to go have a word?" Decker heads over to the bookseller. "Hey pal! This isn't ya first time seeing Kenshi, is it? If it isn't, and you're undecided if ya should root for 'im, well, isn't that a sign you ought to be cheering for the newblood?"

Decker gives the bot another slap on the back. "Attaboy. You're the best, don't let others tell ya otherwise. Spread the good word." Decker sizes up the crowd. Avoid eye contact with the elf, avoid eye contact with the elf, avoid eye contact with the - oh hey, Hector and his lady friend. This might just work, he thinks to himself. "Hey, Hector! Helena!" Decker calls out. "Sorry I had to run earlier, but it seems like my compatriot got tangled up in a bit of trouble. So it looks like I'm stuck slowin' down for a tick," Decker laughs. "You will not believe the things my buddy Ronin can do with a sword, believe me. I served on a mission wif 'im in the tundras of Recivic - just incredible."

This is super cool! I just now noticed Elfonn's stats and I audibly laughed. That velocity stat, lord.

Decker eyes the pile of mushrooms. Was that... Did he see it twitch? Is it sentient? Decker wasn't sure if he wanted the support of it or the weird elf. But eh, time to stand up for his friend. Decker starts off by trying something and going to a familiar face in the crowd, Pip. He gives him an encouraging slap on the back. "Well, Pip, we've gotten ourselves into a bit of a situation, hah! This is my first time seeing a spectacle like this - but I take it it's not your first, chum? Why not root for the newcomer, eh?"

"Hey Ronin, huddle up for a sec, yeah?" Decker says. "I thought we were enlisting this guy to help us out here?" Decker whispers. "Now, if you'd rather pay the gentleman rather than cross swords with 'im, that's A-Okay with me, but I just want to make sure we're on the same page here." Decker drops his voice even lower. "'Sides, you chopped up a gator. Your sword can handle this guy."

"Well, we can always make some time fer some, how-shall-we-say professional development." Decker muses. "How do these kinda duels work, necessarily? I'm assumin' I'm sittin' this one out, what with the fact that my weapon of choice is a bit, ah, not a sword," Decker adds, patting the shotgun on his back. "Y'all need a ref for this sort of thing?"

"You gon' be able to carry all that stuff? Your arms look more than a lil' full there, friend. If you need me to haul any stuff around, I'm travellin' more or less pretty light, so I can lend a hand. I'd give it back to ya after all is said and done, of course." "And this is my new pal, Kenshi," Decker says, as if he hadn't just learned the man's name. "I think you two are gonna get on pretty dang good."

"Primary objective is, well, ah," Decker was quite frankly not prepared for this level of scrutiny. "Some investigative work, I guess y'could say? Y'see, what we're doing is-" Decker scans the crowd until he sees Ronin, engaged with some sort of vebdor that didn't look - well, didn't scream 'totally on the up and up.' "Ah, there he is," Decker says, cutting himself off and walking over to his comrade. "What're ya up ta, Ronin? Pizza place didn't have anything good but I found someone I'd imagine ya'd like to meet?" Decker jerks his thumb backwards towards the swordsman.

"Mmm, not me specifically, nah," Decker says, glancing over his shoulder. He could still see the food worker scowling at him. Yikes, lady, all I did was touch the menu. "I have a friend I'm travelin' with, ya see, quite the skilled swordsman. It's not our primary objective per se, but he's wanderin' about, looking to acquire new skills, hone his blade, that kind of thing. Could I introduce you two?"

Oh, for the luvva... "Er," Decker passes the menu back. "I think I'm good for right now, actually, sorry 'bout that." Decker turns around and walks hastily to the man with the sword and wide-brimmed hat. "Say, fella, couldn't help but notice the blade you had - was wonderin' where you got it?" These types of folks always love talkin' 'bout the ancestral history of their blades or whatever, yea? Maybe I can get him jabberin'.

Decker takes the menu, reading it over. "Huh, the pizza here smells pretty dang good and..." Waaaait a second was that last guy just... Oh dammit. But I just picked up this menu! I can't just... walk away, the girl behind the counter is just starin' at me now! Uhhh how to do this how to do this how to... "HEY, Ronin!" Decker calls out, peering over his shoulder, trying to get his comrades attention. "They got Dwarven Root Beer, ya want one?" Decker adds, gesturing towards the walking away swordsman in hopes Ronin got the hint.

That fizzy drink actually sounds... pretty damn good right now, Decker thinks to himself. "Ronin. If I were you, I'd be brandishin' that blade. In a more... cocky way than a threatening way? See if we can draw out our swordsman pal. In the meantime, I'll be uh... scoping out the pizza place." Keeping an eye on people's backs and hips to see if anyone was concealing a sheathed blade, Decker makes his way across the street to the pizza place.

"Silly to worry about a sixteen year old? That's when you oughta worry most. My ma's hair went gray dealing with my siblings and I 'round that age. We'll keep an eye out for him." "Sure am."

"And you say that I'm the one better with words?" Decker snorts. He knew Ronin was more of the quiet sort, but when he spoke, Decker couldn't help but feel that his companion was more articulate than he could ever dream of. Decker accepts the candle into his hand. Just holding his palm over the white wick, he feels a strange sensation. It felt more like warmth than heat, if that made any sense. What an utterly fascinating thing. "Huh... You're jus' too kind, sir, really. I have a feeling this will aid us quite a bit on our mission." Decker feels his insides tighten up as the priest describes his missing son. Please... it's just a kid... The weight of their responsibility was starting to get to Decker. This wasn't like Recivic, not at all. "You're not imposin' at all. So don't worry a thing. If we see him we'll give him an earful. I didn't catch your name? If we cross paths with the boy, it'd be helpful to have your name so he knows we know his dad."

"Some part of me is a little 'esitant to even get other poor souls mixed up in this, but maybe that's just my stubborness talkin'. And about the blessing, well, I kinda like the idea of some sort of holy purifyin' shotgun." Decker pats the shotgun slung across his back. "If I had to voice my picks, we'd check out the church, then maybe cross blades with that swordsman, then back to the sewers... Ronin, what're ya thinkin'?"

Decker feels his stomach knot up a bit as Vinoq continues. "Aye. That, ah. That sounds not great," Decker gulps. "When you first said ghost, I thought ya meant metaphorically, but this guy sounds... Well. Like bad news. So Machen was a PI under a false name, investigatin' a culty serial killer." And now we're chasin' him into the sewers. "Is there anywhere on the station we could go to talk to the Thalamusi- Thaumamatic- Traumatoni- the Society, see if they have any insight into this? Do they have an office on that station we could stop in and ask? As for doing it alone, well, I didn't read my Heroica handbook front t' back, so I could be wrong, but I'm not sure if we can jus'... call backup from the hall. We're gonna have to handle this all smart-like if we wanna get this job done. Without one of us gettin' sacrificed to who knows what," Decker clarifies. And we all know doin' things smartly is 100% my specialty, Decker thinks to himself dryly.

"Huh. Y'know, I had trouble wrappin' my head around it at first, but that sounds like a fair enough system. Things would be easier if people were a little kinder... Sometimes feels damn hard to do in this system." "Ah, then I think the stories of me gettin' chased by Diremelds through construction sites back on Akharif aren't worth much to ya, then. Worth a laugh, maybe." "Ya sure about that?" Decker laughs. "Am I better with words or jus' worse at shutting up? If ya say so, though, I'll tell it." "I could spin it as some grand old yarn, but it sounds like you're innit for functional info, not tall tales. So let me tell ya the basics. Myself and Ronin, 'long with three other compatriots - Aysu, Enson, and Polaris - well, six if you count Polaris' mini-mecha, I guess - were hired to do a bit of under the table work for one Mervin Softpaw. Y'see, their sled-wyrm race had the route clogged up by all kinds of monsters swarming the area. We go 'round the tundra surrounding Vindkoss, takin' em out one by one. The frost hawks and the glacial mongers weren't a huge issue - the latter sprung a trap on us, though - but as Ronin mentioned, the massive Polar Gator? Absolute menace. Aye, hope I never run into another one again." "Of course, this wasn't a mere huntin' trip. There was some corporate intrigue here. Not sure if this is on yer radar or not, but Kristal Ice does a whole lotta business on Recivic. Plenty of mining outposts, all this equipment... in the trade of ice mining, if I understand correctly. Anyway. Kristal Ice wasn't entirely on the up and up. We witnessed an altercation between them and the locals, where they were almost willing to shoot a man dead on site. All over a suspicion of theft. The suspicion ended up bein' true, but it was rather ornery of them. The real malpractice by them though, was their inability to tie up loose ends, so to speak. It turns out that all of the animals in the area were goin' nuts because they were eating meat off of a Rime Drake carcass - a Drake that Kristal Ice killed, but never properly disposed of, throwin' the whole ecosystem outta whack. We took care of drake, but shows where Kristal Ice's priorities lie."

"If they're still alive," Decker says morosely. Were they not acting fast enough? Should they have run through the gated area of the sewers in reckless abandon, before more time was wasted? "At any rate... Agreed. What heroes do, eh?" Decker turns back to Vinoq. "So ya have t' explain this vow of poverty thing to me a little more, because it strikes me as, what's the word... counterintuitive; shouldn't that preclude ya from taking any money at all? If I have ya 1000 credits would you take 'em, donate 'em, would you just... not request, ah, charity from everyone else? Jus' curious." Associates, huh. What's more likely, they disappeared alongside Greg, or they're the ones who disappeared 'im? Decker ponders. "Valuable stories, eh?" So this is how he builds his network of info. "I'm guessin' you're lookin fer stuff that's nonfiction, yeah? Otherwise I saw this pretty cool arthouse holovid once." Decker clears his throat. "In all seriousness, we got stories to tell. I could tell ya something from my past, or... Ronin, would you mind if I shared the tale of our last endeavor fer Heroica?" Decker turned back to Vinoq. "What kinda story is up yer alley, friend?"

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