Shadow Lore

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator

Por ti volaré
Espera que llegaré
Mi fin de trayecto eres tú
Contigo yo viviré


The casket rested on the chancel. A portrait of a scarred, green dragonborn managing a toothy grin was surrounded by flowers, booze and other tokens of affection. The singer's voice carried through the chapel as the church-goers stood in silence, remembering the impact that Vincenzo Farros had on their life.

The funeral was for the head of the Farros Cartel - one of the more honorable scoundrels in the city - Vincenzo Farros. The attendees of his funeral varied from the poorest bums in the slums to the richest club owners, from the kindest baker to the cruelest crook, from the most honorable pimp to the most corrupt cop. Today was a day of mourning for the underground of Poria. The day that honorable Farros Cartel died. It was likely that one of his honorless sons would take his place and lead the cartel to ruin.

"Thank you, Daniel."

A silent nod from the famous singer as he looked at the portrait, fighting back a few tears. The famous singer had delayed one of his concerts, in order to sing at the funeral of Vincenzo. Without him, he would have never gotten his fame.

"Now, Sons and Daughters of the Lord, take the time to recall your memories with Vincenzo. Keep them close and keep them in mind as he will live on through you all..."

The voice of the priest was soothing and carried throughout the church.

The church goes silent, aside from a few gasps of air and soft sobbing, recollecting their memories with Vincenzo.

((EDIT: For the first post, just draw up a connection from your character to the Vincenzo Farros. Overall, he was as kind and honorable as crime bases went whom you likely had a good relationship with or at the very least, a good memory of him. It will help build the world, your character and give time for others to potentially join in. ))
 

Rondait

Well-Known Member
Member
Shayliss hated funerals. In the first twenty years of her life she only had to attend the funeral of one of her family's maids that attended to cleaning the house when her mother couldn't. It was a somber experience, and was in fact her first experience with death. However, in the last two years she had attended the funerals of her mother, her father, her mentor, and now one of the few people who showed compassion to her since Lissandris had died.

She recalled back to the first time she met Vincenzo Farros, he was one of the five people that had attended Lissandris' funeral. After the ceremony, the crimelord walked up to Shayliss and said that if she ever needed a job, just to ask. Seeing as how her partner in crime who managed to obtain most of their customers had just passed, she accepted his offer and obtained much information for him in the past year and each time he paid well. He had even recommended her services to other people, and was in fact responsible for finding her two thirds of her customer base. It was for this reason, and this reason alone that she had attended this funeral after promising herself to not attend anymore after Lissandris'.

In her black dress, she stayed somber and quiet the whole time, bowing her head and shedding more tears than she would of liked.. While yes, she was deeply upset at Vencenzo Farros' death, the tears were more due to the funeral being a somber reminder of how unkind the past two years had been to her, and seeing the casket on the chancel brought back memories that were still fresh in her mind.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
The man in the brilliant green suit looked more than a little out of place among all the somber black of the funeral. Jain casually flipped his ponytail over one shoulder as he reflected on his history with Vincenzo. Maybe the two of them hadn't always gotten along perfectly, but there had been a healthy mutual respect there, much like the respect Jain paid with his presence at the funeral. Vincenzo had always been an honorable sort of fellow, so much so that Jain couldn't help but like him. When one of Vincenzo's boys had mistreated one of Jain's girls, he knew he wouldn't have to handle it himself; the don had had a way about him that made others listen when he spoke, obey when he commanded, and for the few who wouldn't listen or obey, fall when he fought.

Jain shook his head. The world was surely a lesser place without the old tyrant, that much was for certain. He squinted at the other Farros family members, causing crow's feet to appear at the corners of his emerald eyes. He wasn't sure which one of them would take over now, but he really didn't envy them the difficulty of living up to Vincenzo's memory. Even if he'd been a mediocre man, time tended to make giants out of those who came before, and when one's predecessor actually was a legend...well, that was a tall order for any man.

Under his breath, Jain muttered, "So long, you old bastard. We're all gonna miss ya down here."

With a quiet sigh, he went ahead and took a habitual look at the crowd to see who all was present. There were, of course, the other members of his family seated toward the front. Naturally, there were also several lower ranking members of the cartel to act as basic security and pay their respects. His eyes lingered for a moment on a lovely young platinum blonde, but he forced them to move on. Now was no time to be thinking of either business or pleasure.
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
It had been but three days since the treaty signing, and Kanin had been busy the entire time. Since he had escaped the raid on the Barroom - now a crime scene, and not likely to reopen soon - Poria's criminal organizations had sustained substantial losses, some by his hand, while he tried to gather information on the frame job that had led to the police showing up in force. Not eight hours after waking that morning, he had shot dead a young lizardman by the name of Indiran Z'rai, who'd been tough and smart enough to form and lead a profitable, powerful street gang (the Golden Fangs), and dabbled in all sorts of illegal operations. He hadn't been smart enough to keep off Graggor turf, and it had cost him. Late the following night, after collecting his reward for Z'rai, Kanin had slit George Tomakaiei's throat before the little green bastard had even known he was there, then cased the joint (retrieving some damning data on Duende smuggling and money-laundering on a jump drive) even as Vincenzo Farros was drawing his last breaths.

That led to the matter at hand - the funeral of one of the few in the city that Kanin both trusted and respected. Though the killer had fully intended to meet with Fortune to get his cash and couldn't shake the discomfort that joined him whenever he walked into a church, he'd have felt much worse not attending, so he had taken a seat near the back, blending in perfectly with the service thanks to his serious demeanor and dark clothing (though was, he suspected, among the best-armed in the building). Vincenzo had been the first to offer him a job once he'd gotten out of prison - was the only one willing to, in fact - and in the fifteen years since had called for him several times more (and for quite a variety of work; the man had never been big on killing, he recalled). Without the deceased, Kanin suspected he'd never have had the chance to get work in Poria again. Vincenzo Farros had been his salvation.

He stifled a sigh as his thoughts moved from the past to the future, and his amber eyes looked over the many assembled to mourn and fondly remember the old man before settling on Vincenzo's sons, in the front. Any paying close attention to Kanin would notice his eyes narrow, and perhaps even his fists clench, as he realized those men, mere shadows of their father, would be managing the Farros Cartel in the near future. They lacked his wits, honor, and resourcefulness, and in their incapable hands everything Vincenzo had worked for would fade before being torn apart and gobbled up by other syndicates. The idea sickened him, but ultimately Kanin knew there was little he could do to stop it; his better credentials and superior record wouldn't grant him the legitimacy required to lead. Only the endorsement of the departed could do such a thing, and it was too late to ask for it.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The goblin mob boss Fortune Poi, self-proclaimed headmaster of "the New School," had never really had prior opportunity to mourn the death of a comrade. This was largely due to a lack of individuals that he really thought of as comrades, since people who worked for him did, in fact, die at times, but Farros... well, anyway, it was something close.

On the surface, they could hardly be any more different. The Farros family wore tailored suits, where Fortune typically did business in hand-offs from a thrift shop, stubble lining his face. For once, today, that was different, and the goblin wore a year of a workman's wages worth in professional attire. For once, today, he was clean-shaven, and wasn't carrying a pistol (though the looming orcs on either side of him, of course, each had a spare for emergencies, among other things). And then, of course, Farros was well known to always try to work out a problem with words before resorting to bullets, whereas the New School didn't often bother wasting words on what would soon be a lot of dead men.

Sitting in the very last pew, in plain view by the aisle, Fortune thought again over his relationship with the old dragonspawn. Of course there was the business to think of, since the best quality 'bud in his supply had for years been sold him exclusively by Farros. With as many magic-blocking effects as a funeral like this brought into a room together, including those he'd brought in himself, he also felt safe thinking about how...

(A stormy night, many years ago. The rain falls in a drizzle, but the thunder rolls with a vengeance. A large dragonspawn in a pinstriped suit stops his nervous pacing to the crash of broken glass from below, and runs down the steps of his manor to the cellar below. A barefoot goblin in a tattered leather jacket struggles to stand by the broken window, tracking blood from his fresh cuts onto the tile.

"For-tune! Are you all-right? What-happened?"

"Heh. Heh." Less chuckled than wheezed. "Th' kid'ss fine. Took a graze. Juss' needss a couple sstitch's." With a grimace he gives up on standing, and gestures around with one arm. The other hangs uselessly at his shoulder. "Ssorry 'bout... didn't wanna usse th' front. Basstard elvess had a troll, broke my arm." A humorless smile. "And a leg. Heh. Could use... heh... doctor...")

...when he'd come to, after dealing with the elven Hands of Fate crew and recovering their hostage, it was in a well-furnished bedroom, with his wounds cleaned and bandaged and his broken limbs set and cast while Poria's finest contraband ran through his veins and softly ate away at the pain. As such, the man who'd first given him the name of Fortune had deemed him ready to be given a right earful, about going off and acting recklessly on his own. He hadn't argued. He'd only been a street dealer then.

When old Farros had come to see him again, and asked him to name his reward, he'd said...

"Th' bluestar line. I wan' exsclussive axcess to 't."

Even now, when his own business had grown to include a third of all illegal drugs coming into Poria, the bluestar bud remained an important part of his operation. He controlled more in sheer volume than any other individual syndicate in the Empire, but besides the bluestar it was all scraps, low-grade stuff. Older cartels like the Duende people had decades of established reputation over him, and could leverage it in their marketing, whereas the bluestar was all that separated his own product from that of any low-level independent street dealer's. If Farros's sons didn't uphold the arrangement Fortune had with their father, then...

He'd have to kill them.

It was a damn shame to have to be thinking about this at the funeral.
 
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coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Sacha looked at the casket in the church. It was conflicted, this was the third time the slime was so sad. It was saddened by the death of Vincenzo. The death of another person. It wondered why it was so sad, the last time it felt like this was when it found the body of Rikak splattered in his home, and at teacher's funeral. Vincenzo had helped it when it was on the run from the police and didn't know what to do. Without his help Sacha would likely be in jail right now, or worse. It was because of him that Sacha was able to start her small clinic selling medicine and treating the ill and injured. Especially to those who may not be able to receive treatment at a normal doctor. He was the nicest criminal Sacha had ever met.

Dressed in a black dress it sat. The sombre mood in the church was oppressive. If the slime could sigh, it probably would at this moment. Life would go on, but the loss of the cartel head had hit hard. Sacha wasn't one to keep up with matters concerning cartels, but it could tell that his sons would never live up to his legacy. It lowered its head as it silently said a prayer for the fallen boss.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
"May we never forget Vincenzo Farros."


. . .
Fly me to the Moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what Spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars

The strings that were being plucked were joined by a soft flute before a larger accompaniment of brass, percussion and string crashed in. The song played as an undertone to the reception that was hosted two hours after the funeral. On the Farros Estate, a happier reception was being thrown to pay homage to Vincenzo and to harken the new age of the Farros family. The dinner was akin to a grand feast, done outside in the cool spring air as lovers danced. Friends and enemies laughed as they recalled stories of Vincenzo with drinks in hand, while a halfling bartender furiously managed the bar - his jar filled with tips.


Watching over the party, the three sons of Vincenzo smiled greedily. This would all be theirs soon enough. The power that they had hoped for. They wanted to make a public appearance before ascending to the leaders of the cartel. Wearing white suits, the green-scaled men sipped on their wine while pondering where the family butler had gone. Designated as the Executor of the Will, "Lucci."

"LUCCI! GET OVAH 'EEERE! GO READ PADRE'S WILL!"

The thin, gaunt butler had been sitting at the bar, chatting with the halfling before turning. It had seemed the sons of Vincenzo were eager to have the will read. With a chuckle and a wry smile, the butler slid out of his seat with a soft grunt. Making his way to the balcony of the estate, overlooking the property and the party, he was greeted with a round of applause. Taking out an envelope, he broke the wax seal and began to read out the will. Friends of Vincenzo were given belongings that were meaningful to them - paintings, carpets, antiques, weapons. Finally, he had reached the last page. Clearing his throat,

"To my sons. I have cherished the day you were born and I have watched you all grow. You lived in safety under my protection and never knew what struggling truly was. Your issues with money, women and drugs. I foolishly supported your vices in hopes that you would learn. I will not see my hard-work tarnished by the hands of degenerate fools. I leave the Farros Estate to a Council that will be guided by my trusted servant, Lucci. The council will consist of Kanin Vikona, Fortune Poi, Jain Korr, Shayliss Fiorian, Sacha, Diarmuid Dempsey and whomever they deem worthy to guide the cartel. "

An awkward silence filled the party as Vincenzo's sons were humiliated by the man that raised them. The crowd began to slowly shuffle and make way for those chosen.

"Antonio, Bruno, Giovanni - you three are a disgrace to the Farros name and degenerates who sought the highest position in a small organizations - the aspirations of a small-minded fools. I leave my work to the outsiders who have truly struggled in life and will allow the Farros cartel to reach the status of a global power."

Folding up the letter, Lucci began to place it in his suit pocket before Bruno grabbed Lucy by the collar in a fit of rage.

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' WITH ME? LUCY. THIS IS SOME SHITTY FUCKIN' JOKE. WE'RE HIS BLOOD AND YOU'RE SAYING TH-oomfh."

Lucci had drawn out a long-barreled revolver and placed it in Bruno's mouth. Drawing the hammer back, Lucci's voice grew cold. "No, Bruno, I am not 'fuckin with you', this is the will of my closest friend and I intend to see it out now."

The sound of a thousand pistols being drawn and cocked filled the air as the crowd wildly pointed around. A scene of sheer chaos and panic spread as people began to shout and scream.

"CALM DOWN EVERYONE!"

Surprisingly, Antonio managed to stifle his rage. "Lucci, please remove your revolver from my dear brother's mouth. Bruno, please let go of Lucci's collar. Everyone, let's put our guns down." A calming smile from Antonio eased the tension as the guns were lowered and placed away. "My father must have struck a brief tinge of madness, but it is his will. His... outsiders are welcome to have whatever remans of his estate." A wide grin spread across Antonio's face. "For now, everyone. Enjoy the party."

Lucci removed his revolver from Bruno's mouth once Bruno let go of his lapels. Brushing them off, Lucci turned to the crowd and called out: "To those who are in charge of the Estate, please meet me in the meeting room. There is much to discuss." The once cold voice was warm and friendly again.
 
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Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
"Yer' looking well, Antonio. How's the arm?" Flanked by his suited orcs, the goblin called the brothers from atop the balcony stairs with a smoldering cigar in his mouth. Just as well that he hadn't truly begun drinking yet, he thought. Otherwise he would have snubbed these three entirely, particularly after that reading. Then again, maybe that wouldn't have been all that bad anyway.

"An' Bruno." The arm was fine, of course - Antonio's wound years ago had hardly even needed stitches, and had only been mentioned out of convenience. "Ye've gotten big enough, tell ya' that. 'ss been too long. An' you musst be Giovanni. Never been introdusced, I fink." Calmly, smoke curling from the cigar in his mouth, the little goblin kingpin extended a hand to the brothers, watching closely to see which, if any, of them would be the first to take it.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
An observant watcher might have noticed a faint flicker of a frown cross Jain's face, but it was so swiftly smothered that they would have to doubt its very existence. He wasn't sure why the old coot would want him to be a part of the succession, but he couldn't help but feel that this was likely to be a pain in the ass. Of course, then everyone had to get butt-hurt like he'd been drilling them dry, and out came the guns. He hadn't even begun and it was looking more and more like it was going to be the first long day in a long series of long days. He remained seated, figuring that if people started shooting all over the place, at least he'd be halfway to ducking ahead of time.

Then Antonio somehow got everyone to listen to him, and he was even saying something reasonable. Maybe there was hope for this mess yet. With a quiet grunt, Jain rose to his feet and began to make his way through the crowd toward the conference room. His cane tapped softly against the hardwood floor as he deftly weaved between conversing criminals, his pale face an unreadable mask. As he passed the dragonborn brothers and the goblin they were conversing with, he nodded politely and resolved to offer his condolences after resolving the unplanned business aspect of this visit. It figured that Vincenzo would know he'd show up, and take advantage of that to press him into working to keep his syndicate functional. Tricky old bastard.
 

Rondait

Well-Known Member
Member
A small state of shock rocked Shayliss as soon as her name came out of Lucci's mouth. Being a part of a committee keeping Vincenzo's empire afloat was not a development she expected out of the funeral, in fact she expected nothing at all. The only reason she had stayed for the reception and will reading was largely to overhear any rumors shared between those attending. She had only really perked up and started paying attention when it was announced that the sons of Vincenzo wouldn't be inheriting the estate, and in fact first thought that she couldn't have heard Lucci correctly when he listed her name as one of those who would help run it, but as he kept reading the names and talked about Vincenzo's goal of putting the empire in the hands of those who had struggled and worked to be where they were, she realized she had probably in fact heard him correctly and stiffened as the realization donned upon her. The shock of the moment had in fact hit her so hard that she hardly noticed everyone pulling out their weapons, and even failed to instinctively reach for her own. After Antonio calmed everyone down, she stood up, and made a brisk walk towards towards the conference room. There was no need to stay around and converse with the other guests and no doubt drawing their envy or even ire for what had just occurred.
 
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coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Sacha stood motionless by the back of the room holding a piece of cheese on a toothpick. It was going to be part of a council to inherit the Farrel cartel instead of his sons. Sacha's mind was filled with questions, questions like “Why choose me?”, “What would this new development allow me to do?” and “Should I have worn a dress?”. After a moment to gather its thoughts, and digest the cheese away from view in its suit. Unlike the rest of the crowd it had neglected to bring a weapon. In hindsight that may have not been the best idea.

It moved inconspicuously towards the meeting room as it adjusted its tie and prepared itself mentally. Whatever went down in the meeting room could have serious consequences. So much for living a humble life.
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
Kanin had spent most of the reception enjoying the delicious food and refreshing drinks, indulging little in the excellent company in favor of sitting alone at the bar and speaking only to Diarmuid (except for the rare occasion where he was addressed otherwise). He paid little attention to the will in general, but his interest was piqued at the final page, in which Vincenzo lambasted his sons and declared that leadership of the cartel would be handed over to a council. When he was listed as one of the appointees, his hand shot up to cover his mouth - not out of shock, but to simultaneously give the impression of as much and conceal the wide, amused grin that had leapt onto his face. He kept it there as the remainder of the will was read, closely noting the names of his fellow councillors (and, happily enough, that he was on good terms with two and had heard of, though not been introduced to, a third).

Unlike most others in attendance, the cold-blooded killer didn't go for his weapon when the guns came out. He knew full well that nobody with half a brain who was interested in defending Bruno would shoot (hell, most with half a brain wouldn't be interested in defending him at all), that Lucci wasn't going to pull the trigger and get himself killed for nothing, and that nobody else wanted to make a target of themselves at so well-armed a gathering. Certainly he wasn't going to do so, and instead he relaxed, asked Diarmuid to pour him a rum and cola, and waited for all of the commotion to die down. He was surprised that Antonio was so capable of defusing the situation, but also greatly suspicious of the slimy, conniving way in which he had done so, along with the dragonborn's mention of "whatever remains" of the Farros estate. Kanin couldn't up and murder the man at his father's funeral reception, but had a feeling that it would be necessary to take action in he coming days, perhaps even hours.

Regardless, he stood (with drink in hand) when Lucci called him and the others to gather in the meeting room, his smile having faded and been replaced by a stern, cold countenance. "Come on, Diarmuid. We've got business to attend to." He directed, strolling easily through the thinned crowd and up onto the balcony. He stopped there for a moment to set a hand on Antonio's shoulder, looking the snubbed man and both his brothers in the eyes before softly (and quite agreeably) saying, "Don't worry about this, I'll see to it that you boys get what you deserve," then took the brief moment following to closely examine their faces (and if possible, their thoughts as well) before proceeding across the marble flooring of the balcony and into the mansion. Once inside, the hitman quickly guided himself to the meeting room, greeted Lucci with a slight nod, and sat, sipping his drink while he waited for the rest to arrive.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
“Rum and coke? Good choice, Boss.” Diarmuid cracked a toothy grin at the sudden promotion that the two of them had gained in the underworld. Diarmuid was good for cracking open two things: Skulls and Booze. He wasn’t aware of how the underworld worked, but he would sure as hell make certain the Farros Council was enjoying drinks and making certain that the uppity ones got their wings clipped. Grabbing the bucket filled with bills, a bottle of rum and some coke, he made his way with Kanin to the meeting room.
. . .

Antonio’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the Gobbo’s remark, managed to hide his distaste for Fortune through a faux reaction to his comment about the arm. “Still a bit sore.” He casually mentioned as his hand came up to Bruno’s chest, making certain to restrain his headstrong brother. Poisonous smoke curled out of the corners of Bruno’s mouth - a terrifying sight along with those yellow eyes of his bulging out of his head. Giovanni, although distraught about the sudden disappearance of his inheritance, was humble enough to take the goblin’s hand and shake it. “Giovanni. It’s… interesting to meet you, Fortune Poi.” After realizing that Fortune’s hand remained extended, Antonio took the small hand and shook it gently. Bruno had stepped away entirely to grab the nearest bottle of wine and guzzle it down.


“Now, Fortune. I do believe Lucci needs you in the meeting room.” Antonio’s lips curled up smug grin, giving an appreciative nod to the man in a disgustingly toxic green suit that walked past - Jain Korr.

The brothers watched Shayliss pass by. While Bruno’s gaze was more boorish and ogling, the other two brothers seemed to be cold and calculating with their gaze. The slime that followed afterwards piqued the interest of the three of them. They heard of a slime that their father had helped out years ago, but the name Sacha grew in the alleyways and slums as a talented doctor.

The sight of those pointed ears and cold amber eyes were accompanied by a massive, dark pompadour that bounced on top of a small halfling’s head.

“Ah. Thank you, Kanin. Don’t worry. I’m certain that we’ll be fine…”

Antonio’s thoughts were clear and crisp: “The question is if you and your council will be fine.”
Giovanni’s thoughts were meek and quiet: “He doesn’t seem that bad… Why did father do that though?”
Bruno’s thoughts were loud and manic: “FUCK! That old man ruined us for the last time. Look at the patchwork group of freaks that are going to be ruining the name of Farros. I could see a human or an elf, but bringing a fuckin’ goblin, a slime and a halfling with the dumbest fucking hair? The old man was going mad! This wine used to taste great, but it just tastes AWFUL now.”

The sound of a bottle crashing against the railing could be heard as the party had awkwardly continued. The music finding its stride and people making awkward small talk, trying to pretend the brothers weren’t just publicly lambasted from the grave.

. . .


Lucci waited in the meeting room filled with aged mahogany furnishings. The room was pristine as Lucci stood at the head of the table. Soon, the heirs of Vincenzo funneled into the meeting room, politely asking Fortune to leave his bodyguards outside of the room at the very least.

With a wry smile, Lucci looked around the table. It was a disjointed group of people of all kinds of races and backgrounds: human, elf, goblin, halfling, slime. Contract Killer, Gangster, Information Broker, Pimp, Bartender, and an Alleyway Doctor. Within each of their eyes, he could see a hardened look. They had all graduated from the school of hard knocks.

“First of all, congratulations. Vincenzo had chosen you all personally and I can see why. For those of who have never met me, I am Lucci - the Butler of the Farros Household and the Executor of Vincenzo’s Will. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Secondly, I don’t plan to take charge. I am simply a guiding hand. You will all make the decisions and I can only hope that you will do Vincenzo proud.

You are all the proprietors of the Vinenzo cartel and the estate, in which this party is being held. You are free to build what you need. The Farros Cartel has struggled to maintain at the top and I can say with ease, that it is likely that the cartel will fracture with you all in charge. If Vincenzo’s Sons decide to leave and start anew, it is likely that we will be left bare. However, we will rebuild stronger than before - only through loss, can one grow.”

Lucci looked around the room before clearing his throat.

“I suppose, that you should all introduce each other as well. While I’m familiar with all of you, the same could not be said for everyone here. Following that, let me know if you have any questions or any advice as to the actions of the Farros Cartel from this point on.”
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Sacha looked at the others sitting at the table. The six of them were going to be in charge of the estate and cartel. Things were probably going to get busy. If there was any correlation between those Farros chose it couldn't see it. Maybe it would become clear with time. Sacha tried to remember if it had seen any of them before, but couldn't put any names to their faces. Still, they must have been chosen for a reason, and it would be best to get along if they were to work together. The fewer enemies it made the better.

With a smile and a bow, the slime introduced itself, “My name is Sacha, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” First impressions can be important, sometimes it was better to not say too much. Especially if the information could be used against oneself. It wanted to find out more about the others before telling them about itself. It would have to ask about seeing some records after the introductions. It needed to see the numbers if it was to get a bigger picture of things. Although it had heard a lot of the Cartel from various sources, including its patients, it never looked too deeply into it.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The orcs with Fortune made very subtle, but very definite movements as Bruno stepped forward, and the goblin himself stared up at the raging giant with the steady, yet detached stare that is so often seen at funerals - albeit generally directed into the casket. Had the dragonborn so much as raised a hand against him in that moment, he would have died before bringing it down again, so it was best to act accordingly.

Luckily, Antonio showed an awareness of the brothers' true standing among this crowd again, and the goblin went on to look to Giovanni and shake his hand as though nothing had happened. "Yer father pract'cly raissed me 's well. Not th' ssame way, 'f coursse" he remarked, pressing something into Giovanni's hand. And he was obviously happier with the results, went the unspoken finish. "I'll ssee what I c'n do in there. Y'need anyfing, sshow that around my turf. Besst way t' get in touch." He shook hands with Antonio, then tipped his black bowler hat slightly with a forefinger and strode briskly past into the hallway, leaving them to examine the little golden die on their own.

It was just a tracking unit, of course, but these three clowns probably thought they had him in the palms of their scaly hands already. Showing it around his territory really would get them an audience with him, that was no lie... depending on what you called an 'audience', anyway.

Fortune acquiesced unfazed with the request to leave his bodyguards behind in the hall, but held out his hand for a spare piece before walking in anyway. Rather than taking a seat, he stood with his back leaned against the wall by the head of the table, looking over the others inside as he waited for the rest of them to speak.
 
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Rondait

Well-Known Member
Member
Shayliss looked at the small motley crew that was gathered in the room. She recognized most of them from stories and rumors she'd heard of in the past but had never had the opportunity to meet them. Her shock from earlier had largely subsided, but now that she had a look at her would be equal a sense of nervousness creeped over her. She sincerely hoped that they fully intended on cooperating with one another and making this business succeed instead of infighting for the sake of taking it over for themselves.Either way, it was best not to seem like the most threatening person in the room, which wasn't hard since she knew she wasn't, but the most knowledgeable person in the room is equally deadly, so she decided to just keep it quick and simple.

"I'm Shayliss Fioran, information acquisitions expert."

She immediately mentally chastised herself. Instead of being quick and semi formal she made her expertise sound like something you'd put in a resume to make it sound more impressive than it was. She was never nervous when dealing with customers, but apparently dealing with equals and those who could gut her in a second was a different matter. Well, hopefully they wouldn't think less of her for it. She sat back in her chair and awaited the others introductions.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Jain took a careful look at the group with his dark green eyes and put on his nice guy face, even though he felt slightly grumpy about being shanghaied into this council of Vincenzo's. The elf, he didn't know, but the guy just oozed violence out of a smooth, impenetrable shell. Not a fellow to be trifled with. The slime was fascinating from a physiological standpoint, and he found his thoughts turning toward how he would market it if he were given an opportunity. There were deviants who would pay prime coin just for a little time with such an exotic creature, he was quite certain. He wasn't sure at all what to make of the halfling or goblin. Both of them looked like they'd seen the wrong end of some action. Jain's habitual grin actually grew a bit genuine as he looked at Shayliss; she was quite a looker, though it seemed unlikely that she'd have any need for additional cash on the fast and down-low. Lucci, of course, he already knew.

Jain rose to his feet and casually leaned forward on his cane. Making brief eye contact with each of them and pausing to wink at Shayliss, he smiled warmly and said, "I am Jain Korr. I don't know most of you yet, but I look forward to getting familiar with you all. In fancy words, I facilitate contact between people for a nominal fee. Most people would just call me a man with many friends who introduces them to one another though."
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
Continuing to enjoy his beverage and briefly examining the thoughts of the other councilors as they spoke, Kanin smiled approvingly at each of them when Jain finished speaking. Though well-intentioned, none of them could shake the feeling that he had been similarly pleased in (and worse, by) some very violent circumstances, making the gesture quite a bit harder to appreciate. "My name is Kanin Vikona. I've been a bodyguard and courier, but more than anything a custodian. No doubt some of you," his intense stare rested on Shayliss, only slightly more bearable than being at gunpoint, before moving on, "have heard stories about me - don't worry about them. Most of those things happened a long time ago. In any case, I look forward to working with each of you."

His piece said, he brought the sweet drink to his lips and took a deep gulp of it, sighing gently as it slid down his gullet, and focused his mental attention on Fortune and Lucci, the goblin in particular. Though Diarmuid hadn't yet introduced himself, Kanin figured that could be a result of either nerves or a sense of decorum, both of which would be reasonable for the halfling to feel in the company of a collection of criminals. He trusted Lucci (though wanted a good idea of what the butler was thinking), but couldn't say the same for Fortune - though he respected, even liked the crime boss, there was too much he could stand to gain from eliminating his competitors, were he to see the new Farros council as such. To that end the executioner would wait for the goblin (and Diarmuid) to present himself before disclosing the issue of the brothers' perfidy, all the while keeping prepared for the narrow possibility that Fortune tried to make himself the bosstage once more.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Diarmuid looked expectantly at Fortune as an awkward silence began to fill the room. Diarmuid gave the goblin plenty of time to speak as he poured rum and coke into Kanin's glass. The once empty drank filled with a fizzy, dark drink. Out of seemingly thin air, the bartender plucked out a cosmetic stirrer for the drink - a small sword, before stirring his drink. Stepping back, the halfling gave a nervous cough before pulling out a small, metal handle. Pulling the lever, a person would have expected a sharpened blade. In reality, a fine-toothed comb sprung free.

"Well, uh, I recognize some of you. Some of you are new. The name is Diarmuid. I used to bartend and bounce for a bar called the Brigand's Ballroom until... Well, shit happened." His switch-blade comb ran through his dark hair, fixing the bundle of hair, so that it properly jutted out from his head to add the extra inch. "Other than that", he spoke with a wide grin, "I just really enjoy beatin' people who deserve it. So I guess you could call me a thug?"

His deft fingers folded the blade and placed it in his vest pocket before folding his arms across his chest, looking expectantly at the last heir.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The goblin took his sweet time, drawing on his cigar and then blowing out a ring of thick, purple smoke. So no one was going to introduce him. All right, then...

"An' for thosse who don't know an' haven't guesssed, I'm Fortune Poi," he said. "For now.

"I c'n bring more more muscle, more capital, more intel, an' a bigger disstribution network to th' table than anyone elsse here." He pulled out the chair at the head of the table, which was something of an enterprise since it had been designed for an adult dragonborn rather than a goblin. Then he jumped atop the chair, and then onto the tabletop from there, with the surprising effortless mobility common to members of the smaller races.

"Lissten" he said calmly, sitting down cross-legged on the table itself. "Point iss, I got m'own bussinesss. Seemss Farross wanted me t' run hiss along w' th' resst of you, sso I will. But not on equal termss. Y'want my asssets, I wan' a double vote.

"Take ssome time t' fink it over if y'need to, but I wan' an ansswer by nexst meeting. Ain't gonna commit m' own resourcess otherwisse."

And, he thought, briefly meeting eyes with Kanin, can't promise the useless ones won't start disappearing.
 
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