Good day, My name is Vinsent Goth, And I am happy to invite you all to the grand opening of "The Manhattan Dream" a brand new hotel, which includes a night club, Spa, and a more discrete service...the type you won't tell your wife if you know what I mean...
We have many different types of rooms, all available and waiting for you, all except few that have been occupied by invitations I have sent for several people, including our very own president!
At the entrance of the nightclub a Grizzly lands and distinctive smell spreads. The smell of marijuana. Tharog Frosthearth, smuggled planetside with the Grizzly jumps out.
A heavy man marched forward Tharog, then laughed: "The Boss wish to tell you that you did excellent job getting this..." he sniffs the air "To us..." The man walked into the night club, showing him the VIP area. "This is where the big deals are done."
The heavy man laughed "Since when presidents come to places like this?" He points at the night club "No, the president stays in the Hotel itself, guarded by armed agents, but he is not staying around, as they claimed this place to be insufficient in terms of security"
"Mr.Goth Have plans, he invited them to lower down the inspection on this area, making the trip to here for people like you easier..." The heavy man moved forward "Now if you'd excuse me, I would like to try some of the merchandise you have managed to get here" he left to a corner where a man with few girls around him were smoking, The heavy man sat down and joined them.
In a dark corner of the club, a man in a black flight suit sat alone, nursing a glass of brightly coloured drink. He pushed a button on a wrist mounted console and the time flashed green, illuminating his features in an eerie glow. The man's face was worn and haggard in a way that contrasted starkly with the youthful clientel of the club around him.
Looking up, he spotted his purpose for being in the club as a particuarly large club bouncer led a very familiar man into the roped off VIP area, chatting animatedly.
As the bouncer retreated towards a corner table in the VIP area, the man rose, leaving his drink where it sat.
Weaving his way across the dancefloor and around the various revellers, he reached the bouncer guarding the VIP area.
"Pass?" asked the bouncer flattly, looking at the man up and down with disdain at his plain flight suit and aged features.
Taking out a wad of credit chips from his breast pocket, the man pushed them into the bouncers hand, nodded to him curtly and unhooked the rope blocking his path, leaving the bouncer to count the credits happily.
Walking up behind the man he had recognised earlier, he tapped him on the shoulder.
"Tharog Frostheath?" He inquired...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
Tharog looked left. Then right. The left again. Then right again. This repeated four times, until he finally looked back. He pushed one of his dreadlocks out of his face and carefully observed the man.
Reaching out to shake Tharog's hand, the man smiled thinly.
"Damian Hurst," he said, introducing himself, "you might call me something of a LPFE supporter."
Taking something out of his pocket, he flashed the object at Tharog discreatly. It was a black badge with a stylised eye in the style of the ancient Egyptians indented in silver...
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
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