I followed Hadrian down into the gyrating mass of dancers. The smell of unswashed bodies and obscura was intense but I was able to keep a mental lock on the increasingly agitated minds of our targets. Lights flashed overhead in jarring asycrony with the Pound music blaring. A woman nearby followed my progess with huge golden eyes. A man wrapped from head to toe in chains cursed at me as I bumped into him, but Ortega shoved past him on the other side, deliberately clipping him with a hip to take his attention away. Our targets were approaching the end of a bar, behind which hundreds of bottles were racked up, lit by bright blue lights that gave the whole scene an underwater feel.

At the end of the bar was an open area where a cloaked figure sat in lonely splendor. Tough looking gangers covered from crown to toe in tatoos preserved their boss' sanctuary. They had las weaponary, modern but heavily used, nothing like the guilded show pieces we had seen on Havernos.

Hadrian and Ortega closed in, Hadrian sliding up to the bar close enough that he might be able to hear what was being said, Ortega taking a shot of what smelled like pure alcohol from a tray proffered by a mostly naked waitress. I slipped a little closer, probing gently with my mind to ascertain if there were any mental protections or wards on the conversation.

"Hey there," a voice said from behind me. I turned to see the golden eyed woman. She was wearing a diaphanous dress which seemed to hint at her figure without actually revealing anything. I wondered if it was an expensive synthetic, or merely an ingenious low hive expidient.

"Hello yourself," I replied as she reached out a hand and patted me on the hip. I opened my mouth to make some excuse that would end the interaction when I felt a slight itch at my hip. I looked down and saw a drop of blood on the fabric of my robes. I looked up and saw her twiddling a ring on her middle finger. I noticed there was a tiny needle protruding from it a second before I slumped into her arms and darkness closed over me.


Wakefulness came slowly. I was immediately aware of a cottony taste in my mouth and a buzzing in my head. I opened my eyes to find myself tied at the wrists with some kind of electrical cord. My arms ached from the way they had been tied over my head, secured to a beam. I was in a shallow alcove that had been closed off with a woven net of rusted razor wire. The improvised cell was coated with grime, but clear of any item larger than a pebble. Beyond the wire was a large dark space, obscured by the glare of a lumen hanging just beyond the cell. Rather belatedly I realized I was naked and glanced down. To my shock I discovered that arcane sigils had been painted onto my body with some kind of industrial paint.

"Runes of Warding," a feminine voice said from beyond the wire, I could just make out the gleam of golden eyes.

"Keeps you from using that beautiful brain of yours to do anything unfortunate," she expanded. I reached out for my gifts to ensnare her mind, but my grip on the Immaterium slid away like water on a pane of glass. The lumen flickered ever so slightly.

"Oh don't worry, we've sold brain jobs before. The Under Council pays good slate for 'em, believe you me."