Eisenhorn

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Time for a Majora's Mask esq countdown.

Grimm Noir [Rebooting~]

Alright, howdy folks, don't mind me just sneaking a CS in here now that I got it wrapped up.

CS

“Nothing a little modification and elbow grease can't fix, let's go!”

Midori Yoake

Name

Midori Yoake

Age

17

Race

Human

Nationality

Mistrali

Physical Description

Midori is a bit of an odd young man, especially compared to his peers who have made it this far as prospective huntsmen and huntresses. Standing only at 5'7" tall, even after puberty, the thin young man does not do much to actively inspire awe or confidence. With a lean frame and rough crop of reddish hair doesn't really help distract from his stunningly emerald green eyes, even resting behind his glasses as they do (The glasses are purely aesthetic, and a matter of comfort for the young man). His attire is usually some sort of working clothes and his headset, something that helps him keep deaf to his surroundings when he's trying to work on his latest scheme or modification, almost always wearing gloves of some variety. A pair of cargo pocketed slacks and work boots round out his general appearance when not, uncomfortably, in some sort of uniform. The long jacket he wears is a curious mix between an all weather working jacket and lab coat, and is an inherited item his mother used to wear almost religiously, given to him as a parting gift by his father before he departed for academy life and valued unusually highly.

Characterization

Midori is the kind of young man who, in spite of life leading up to this point, has the kind of bloody minded determination that could shake up entire power structures if he could only focus on a single task for that long.

The son of a weapon smith and a merchant, the young lad decidedly inherited a curious combination of his parent's outlooks. He has his mother's obsessive tendencies with anything that catches his eye, be it the latest weapon crafting techniques, a person who just will not explain something, or otherwise obsesses over things. He also has his father's razor sharp attention to detail and awareness, hidden behind an, albeit somewhat true, mask of airheaded nature and easily distractable, and excitable, persona. He's not a hard kid to get along with, though once he gets started talking good luck getting him to shut up short of physically clamping his mouth shut. He approaches every task that catches his fancy with the kind of passion one might approach their magnum opus, throwing himself fully into a task without a moment of reservation or a shred of restraint. He also is nigh impossible to dampen the spirits of, always grinning and looking at the bright side of things. He does this to hide his personal feelings on his lot in life, of course, but he tries not to acknowledge that too often.

Midori does feel slighted that, just because of his parent's status, he had to fight so hard, tooth and nail, and metaphorically beg, and literally borrow and steal, to get where he is now. The fact someone who's capable is ignored because of their status rankles him hard, and he doesn't take well to people trying to throw their status around, especially granted from being born to the 'right' family, very well. It's really the biggest and easiest way to get him pissed off instead of his usual happy go lucky self, and something he'll feel awful about later, though he won't speak up about it to anyone. If he can't make it work on his own, by his own hands and power, he needs to figure out how he will or he doesn't deserve it.

Backstory

Midori was born to a lower class family, his father a peddler and owner of a small pawn shop while his mother was an, albeit illicit, weapons manufacturer. They met during a deal and, well, hit it off somehow. His father was sharp as the blades his wife forged, and the young man spent as much time running around the family shop helping out as he did in his mother's workshop, learning about the mechanisms and devices that made weapons tick, from the humblest knife to the most complex of hunter's weapons that she created. He learned about Huntsman and Huntresses through their weapons, and was obsessed. People from all walks of life who could make a real difference, and strike a path that ignored their pasts? He wanted to run straight off to the nearest school and apply, though both his parents tried to temper this.

Frankly, they lacked the funds to put him through a preparatory schooling. Between his mother, Yuki Yoake, and her work getting short changed since she refused to sign on with one of the major crime syndicates, and his father, Hanto Yoake, similarly refusing to operate as a fence and try to do honest business, they could ill afford such expenses. So Midori decided to do it himself, gathering favors with odd jobs and doing what he could with the combination of his father's cleverness and his mother's ingenuity, all the while building his own Huntsman weapon. Now, the fact that much of the parts and components, far higher quality than he could ever afford, came from...less than reputable means was something his parents pretended not to notice while helping the young boy out with his dreams. He avoided getting strung into one of the syndicates, fortunately, and even saved up enough from doing odd jobs and working all the hours of the day alongside his parents to even secure himself a spot in one of the preparatory schools. Meanwhile he never noticed the extra funding his parents seemed to come up with, or the light meals on their plates when all three could sit down for dinner.

When he was sixteen, Midori would receive his mother's jacket before she departed for a long haul job, that would take several years to finish before she returned. Both her husband and son would miss her dearly, but supported her fully as she departed for Atlas to assist with weapons contracts that a company she was hired by was responsible for. The up front payment was enough to help finalize Midori's tuition and weapon project, and with his father assisting where he could, he would continue to do everything in his power to try and make it into the Haven Academy, no matter who or what got in his way. He did make enemies in the process, people who wanted to put his skills to a more pragmatic use since they could never get his mother on their side. Between his father's sharp eyes and intuition and Midori's own efforts he avoided the pitfalls of tricky offers and the life he managed to navigate through both his own, as they say, legally gray dealings and efforts as well as those trying to poach or headhunt the talented young man for uses beyond being a huntsman of any sort or variety.

Sure, Midori would find his father seeing off fellows of questionable appearance and character on more than one occasion, something he was always told was just business and nothing to worry about, and to focus on his studies, but the young man juggled attending a certain school in Kuchinashi as well as helping out with his father and his shop, the young Midori kept himself busy and focused in spite of his wandering mind, all for the purpose of getting accepted to Haven when the time finally came.

Semblance

Midori's Semblance, discovered in the workshop alongside his mother, is something he calls Artificial Augmentation in which the young man can amplify the effectiveness of something that has been created or otherwise manufactured. From a combat perspective, weapons hit harder and more precisely, and can take more abuse, while from a mundane perspective anything he handles seems to just function better. From better reception during communication, more reliable transports, and just better tools, right now Midor has no significant control over this, able to prevent it activating on a hostile piece of equipment but only barely. Whenever it begins to impact something, it leaves a thin green outline around the item in question. With time and practice it could likely extend further than whatever he is in direct contact with, perhaps as well as focusing and improving single items even further.

Weapon & Fighting Style

Midori's hand crafted weapon of choice is something he named simply as Promise is a heavy duty 'rifle', though the constant tinkering and modification has trouble meeting that definition at times. In its ranged form it is a long arm, using a falling block lever action to lock hand loaded cartridges into place before firing, which the barrel itself can be twisted to either engage or remove rifling inside the length of the weapon. This allows for both shotgun loads as well as standard rifle cartridges, standard as the massive bore would be considered of course. The ranged form also has a curved bayonet mounted, which forms the blade of the weapon's melee form, a naginata. It cannot be fired in its melee form, however, meaning that there are times its better for him to simply fight with it in its ranged form using the bayonet.

The young man fights like a street rat, meaning anything goes and there is no such thing as fair play. Ambushes, blows beneath the belt, handfuls for the eyes, anything goes when it comes to fighting. Midori doesn't exactly enjoy fighting other people, preferring to face Grimm and the real threat that they pose, but his combat pragmatism was drilled into him by his parents as well as his instructors to the point that its practically second nature and he really doesn't think about it, putting it at odds with his general demeanor and personality overall. With the naginata he focuses on outlasting his opponent, using range and deep cuts to, possibly literally, bleed a threat dry before delivering a coup de grace, while at range its the opposite, looking to end a fight in a single, thunderous roar of custom tooled cartridges being discharged towards whatever is being aimed at.

Intangibles

Midori is clever to almost a fault, and just slightly less aware of his surroundings, constantly processing and gathering information without really thinking about it. He's fast to pick up on whenever something is off or doesn't seem right overall, or even when something just isn't operating right. His generally friendly demeanor and non threatening height and build helps him sort of slip by relatively unnoticed when putting his mind to it. He's a surprisingly shrewd merchant and brings a lot of experience and knowledge, having spent his entire life learning or practicing something or another, lacking the ability to simply ever sit on his laurels and just idle for even a few days. He also picked up his mother's skill with weapons, a quick and deft hand in getting damaged ones working and offering advice on improving them as well, should he find himself with allies who could use the help.

His obsessive demeanor at times can be off putting, however, and make it difficult to actually get Midori to focus on what's important if he latches onto the wrong thing. Add in a stubborn determination and it can be difficult to get him to back down or calm down when it matters. He tends to try and look at the bright side of things, even when its not exactly the wisest or most useful thing to do, which could lead to missing things. The higher status someone is, or more importantly acts, the harder it is for him to get along with nicely. He tries, but its difficult for him to stomach nobles and other high ranking people that flaunt and think being born into such things make people naturally better than others, something he's quick to argue over and, for a lack of better terms, call out.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

"Doesn't answer mine either. And believe me Smiles, the last person here to trust any Eldar is me. I know damn well what they and their kin are capable of. I'm already watching for trouble, without and within."

Stukov wasn't exactly a fan of getting tugged around by warp powers, but it was something he had gotten used to dealing with when it came to Smiles and her manners. Being pulled through teleportation was also far worse, so he knew where to pick his metaphorical battles. He was firmly on Smiles side in this case, no good was going to come from an Eldar, not without greater gains to them at the likely cost of Throne fearing innocent men and women. How many planets, sectors, fleets, and soldiers had died in the tangled machinations of the Eldar, he suspected not even they could tell him, their regard for humanity was that little. One parading around in Sororitas power armor was a mockery, regardless of the reason, practical or otherwise. Of course Celeste was known here, and they had a private booth to discuss matters in 'privacy', though his constant monitoring of their surroundings did not lessen. He also did not partake in the drinks, doubling down on his steadfast opposition to the decision to not get things sorted back at the safehouse or, even better, back in orbit. Still, he listened carefully to the explanation as to why the Eldar was even present, and it was quite the story.

Another attempt on Ultramar, during the 13th Black Crusade, opposed by the Celestinian Crusade. Made up of the faithful and another damned faction within the Eldar, as well as additional forces that deemed stopping Chaos was more important than playing their games at machinations in the shadows. The timely return of one of the most well known and storied Primarchs was, well, shocking, and it was probably good he wasn't partaking in the drinks or he would have ended up coughing on it in shock. So many names of figures of such importance that it wasn't even remotely possible, and yet he knew it to be true. Apparently the Eldar had personally fought alongside Celeste, and this was where the trust came from. Stukov couldn't bring himself to that same trust, even in the face of this incredible story. He would say as much after Smiles asked her questions, having seated himself about as far from the Eldar as he could manage.

"I will follow orders and nothing more in regards to the xeno. No matter how grand the good of the deed, does it really account for the countless worlds, systems, fleets, armies and more that have been unwittingly and unwillingly sacrificed to save handfuls of their own, and just of those we know about? I don't believe so, both her kind and others of her race, even if they don't answer to her group, have been bleeding the Imperium dry, both directly and indirectly, for as long as the Imperium has stood in the face of her endless enemies. My stance remains the same, Morgenstern, but I will follow your orders regardless of personal beliefs. Just know I will not let my guard down even if the rest of you make the mistake in doing so." The strange aura only put Stukov further on edge, he couldn't put his finger on why, but something was wrong and he could feel it. The fact an Eldar sat at the table wasn't helping, and the mixture of unnatural air and xeno presence was practically putting him into combat mode. Something was wrong, many things were wrong, and he couldn't put his finger on it, and it was driving his nerves hard.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

I mean, not like you can blame Stukov's POV exactly, what with their usual mode of operandi ~

Truth

@Rithy

It's true, they would sacrifice entire worlds for one of their own, and Stukov won't let that little fact, no matter how recent events might have gone, go easily.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

No one want's an Eldar Friend? My goodness!

@Andromedai

Hey, it's perfectly justified in Stukov's case! At least as far as he understands them, which isn't very much to be honest.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

"Understood, let's get the box back somewhere it can be safely disposed of." Stukov took point, checking corners and listening for the slightest problem, pending ambush, or even hazard that might risk the cargo being freed. He kept any thoughts pertaining to the current mission purely professional, mind shifting to combat mode naturally as they moved out of the building finally. The energy and sound in the air was strangely celebratory, and when Celeste suggested they spend the night out on the town he frowned. They had a...significant problem stored in a, albeit well made, scrap built box and she thought it was a good idea to go party instead of secure that first? Of course the last remark on not shooting the other Sister was confusing, and he raised an eyebrow at Celeste as he replied. "Celeste, all due respect, don't we have more important things to do than going and rubbing shoulders with the 'nobility' on this planet? And why would I..."

The senior armsman's thought chain was broken when boarding the smaller ship they had arrived in, and he practically froze in place when he saw the xenos parading around in Sororitas power armor, shotgun slung as they boarded the ship. The quick movement of his arm reaching for the pistol holster given the close quarters was evident, though probably fortunately for all parties involved said Naval Pistol was destroyed earlier by the Spawn. Gritting his teeth he moved to get about as far away from the xeno as possible, glaring harshly at the Celestian as he secured himself into a seat. "We'll talk about this later Morgenstern. Throne preserve me..." He might just have to go and have a chat with Cogs later and have her replace his arm anyways, given it had been tainted by xenos trickery without his knowing. He knew something was off when a fully armored 'Sister of Battle' had gone using warp powers to mend his injuries. They just didn't go about doing that sort of thing, he had assumed that Celeste had gone and found some undetected psyker in a minor order, somehow given that they had to check for that sort of thing, but no, she had gone and given a set of power armor to a xeno, one of the knife eared ones no less that had cost the Imperium more than they ever even pretended to help. The fact Celeste was trusting her to any degree was extremely concerning, hence the discussion needed later.

He redoubled his mental focus on principle, doubling down on the guarding against psychic probing. Did Stukov think that would stop a serious attempt from a xenos psyker or, hell, Smiles for that matter? No, but it helped, and keeping nonsense floating on the surface to throw off casual glance seemed to work. Still, it seemed Celeste was determined that they would try to enjoy these festivities instead of carrying out their Throne given duties, and he kept his silence as they were welcomed into the place. It was all far too upscale for him, he probably stood out like a sore thumb frankly, and even the name of the place didn't sit right with him. He kept his head on a swivel, expecting something to interrupt again while they were otherwise preoccupied and distracted. Given recent events, well, one could hardly blame him for his heightened nerves and tension. And that was without taking the xeno scum traipsing around as a member of the Sisters of Battle into account! To say his mood was dark would be an understatement, that much is certain, though right now he focused on not speaking, instead visually confirming likely escapes, entryways, and other points of concern if things got out of hand.

Too many entryways, both for guests and staff, too many ways for approach, it was all begging for trouble to kick off. Given how it hounded them the way it did, well, if he was lucky a round would drop him for good before he knew what was happening. Not likely, given his apparent paranoia in comparison to the rest of the retinue's general demeanor and such, but one could hope. The fact the knife eared xeno was trusted to any degree bothered him, the only use xenos had was as enemies, not friends to be handing over Sororitas power armor to. Still, though he gritted his teeth again to keep from speaking, he had his orders for now. Do not shoot the xeno. Could go for his combat knife or chain cutlass, in a pinch, but he doubted he would have any sort of element of surprise against this xeno psyker, and those methods would rely on that far too much. So despite his protests against this being made, and then of course the xeno revealing itself, Stukov kept silent and would only really speak if necessary.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

<Snipped quote by Eisenhorn>

Stukov: "Now as my shotguns have suspiciously malfunctioned, I finally have a good excuse to use this plasma gun!"

@Rithy

Oh, oh no, I have a far heavier and lore friendly weapon in mind. One that could also suspiciously jam and force the use of plasma, because he wasn't using that arm anyways!

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

<Snipped quote by rivaan>

I think our local armsman miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight have a little issue with that idea ;p

@Rithy

Don't break my incredibly primitive toys, even if I have a plan to up the arsenal once the opportunity arises!

Unheroic: The Backwards Castle

"Slavery? Mate, that's piss poor business practice. Put the steel away, I'm the one saying that 'mercy' was awful to begin with, remember?" Walker's hand tightened on his own dagger, though he didn't produce steel yet. Ideally he wouldn't be slashing this poor fool's throat, he was about the only information source they would have that wasn't the golem or plague doctor. Or Kaath, but given recent events he couldn't exactly rely on her to be a consistently available source of information. However, a very familiar sight stumbled into view, though the saying was rather on the nose given who it was. His eyes genuinely, albeit briefly, widened in surprise at the sight of that poor lass Isabelle stumbling into the clearing, clutching that cane of hers and remaining as blind as ever. A low, weary smile cracked across his face as he spoke a phrase that, well, she'd recognize instantly if she remembered their first meeting well. "Now, what's a saint like you doing out in a place like this?"

Seemed the wounded, battered, and defiled man took exception to that, and given the flailing from before it seemed that the man saw Walker as the biggest threat. What brought a cocked eyebrow was the roaring cry and the dagger flaring to life, glowing brightly as it was thrust towards him. He sidestepped, left hand flashing out with his own dagger, catching the blade and, with a twist, aiming to send it hurtling to the ground as Walker caught the man to keep him from falling from the lunge, holding him very still and looking him dead in the eyes, speaking lowly enough so that only he would hear him. "Stand down, we're not enemies, I'm not here to kill you, and I'm sure as Spite not here to enslave you. You're in no condition to be fighting, fancy Church tricks aside, and if there's anyone in the realms that isn't going to hurt Isabelle it's me. I'm going to let you go slowly, and then we'll talk, figure out all that's going on, and get somewhere safer, savvy?"

Once Walker got a reply, even a negative one, the man would let the assailant loose, slow enough for the mutated fellow to get his bearings as Walker stepped back out of swinging range again, which meant it would take another lunge to get within reach of him to actually make an attempt on his well being again. They were too lean on bodies and knowledge to be slashing throats, and he almost shrugged idly as he resheathed the dagger in his left hand, hidden once again beneath his cloak. While he was watching the man out of his peripheral vision, he was once again processing how some poor soul like Isabelle ended up here. She'd been too good for the Church, and he never was successful in convincing her of that, though he never had the heart to be crass or rude about it towards her. "Once you get used to that...thing you got going on, you need to learn the Chergurd handshake from someone who's better at doing it. Given the extenuating circumstances though, you get a pass this time. No more offering 'mercy' towards the poor bastard, alright V?"

Forsaken

Defiance took in the responses and reactions that each person seemed to give, starting with those that arrived after him and working his way back around again. Tabaxi, two of them in fact, and they looked like the sturdy kind of travelers, and he imagined the two had plenty of interesting stories to share. They didn't either give him the kind of death glare that implied an overt hate, so that was progress too! Might be able to swap stories around a campfire, then, they would be spending a good month at least traveling together after all. Wasn't too much else to glean from merely looking at them, siblings from what they were saying, and he offered the two a warm, friendly smile and offhand wave. No sense being rude to those he'd be working with, and they were showing themselves to be polite enough. Sounded like locals too, from the way they spoke and carried themselves, which was good. They'd know the local area a bit better than those who'd traveled a further ways to get here. "Pleasure to make your acquaintances, both of you. Like I mentioned to these fine two already here, names Defiance. Mercenary and hunter, at your service."

Next to enter was a Goliath, this far south? Well, he had swung a fair bit upwards in a north easterly direction during his trek, so he supposed it wasn't surprising to see one. He'd done his homework on them after his first encounters with the powerful, and reclusive, people, and was impressed with them overall. Earned their keep, treated life as a daily challenge, and were damned good to have around when it came to warding off trouble. The imposing presence along worked wonders, and this one was no different in that regard. Still, the goliath would get a friendly, polite nod and wave from the tiefling, though he didn't repeat himself a third time with introductions and such, given he was fairly certain by the time he got to addressing the tabaxi siblings, well, the Goliath had already arrived. Armed to the teeth, and he knew first hand that simple didn't mean any less deadly. In fact, sometimes it was more deadly given how much force such tools could bring to bear with singular purpose.

Next up was an elf that seemed to have history with the genasi who had given him the death glare. There was always one, sadly more usually, but one he would take as an improvement. Defiance listened to this elf all but harassing the fiery redhead and he couldn't help but chuckle at the display before him. Oh this was going to be a good time, he could imagine, given the back and forth going on between the two. Even if one of them openly disdained him, well, he could always try and prove his worth as he always did. Might work this time too, but hey, no sense being down about it. Still, it seemed the two had history, and as far as the genasi was concerned, probably nothing good. As for the elf, she seemed to put that history to good use, and had introduced herself as a 'master wizard', interesting! Perhaps they could discuss schools of magic, western methodology was intriguing indeed, and there was no harm in learning or improving ones craft through the use of another discipline completely.

Abraham Garrick finally decided to show up, and the Tiefling focused his attention on the man. Aging, but in good health it looked like, though it seemed the resident Orc was keen on asking his questions first. Good ones too, smart as he looked then, given the kit the fellow had on hand from a glance. Who was coming along, who these beasts were going to, how to identify them, the works. No names, but that eliminated sending word ahead if someone proved to be the more unsavory type. Seems the orc was along for the gunsmithing, which gave him a good idea of those he worked with. Lot of firearms, lot of ranged prowess, though that did weaken things a touch if trouble got close. Then again, that was probably what the Goliath was around for as well. He provided muscle, and Defiance would provide finesse. Trying to identify those who would be coming after them was also good to know, being able to prepare for specific methods was usually better than just hoping you prepared for everything well enough. No luck there, not really, but the map intrigued him and the tiefling would collect it barring anyone else stepping.

"Map is definitely helpful, thank you very much. Tea as well, if you'd be so kind? As for my questions, well, let's start with the pragmatic. Road and trail conditions this time of year, especially along this route you planned? Last thing we need is the wagon getting stuck in some muddy rut, or worse, depending on the conditions. Speaking of, what are our alternative routes in case something goes sideways? Mudslides, flooding, impassable blockages, the works. There's a couple branching trails and routes marked out here, though what's passable for 'a wagon or two' and what's passable for 'a herd of hippogriffs, several wagons, armed guards and pheonix' differ greatly. I've got a knack for routing on the fly, but better to stick to the plan if at all possible."

Mr. Garrick briefly called the butler back in, asking to have some tea brought in before turning his head back to the tiefling and listening to the rest of what he had to say, nodding his head a little in acknowledgement as Defiance spoke.

"The road conditions are usually pretty hot and dry for the most part. The first part of your journey will be through mostly desert, of course the further east you go the more livable conditions will get- of course I'm sure the desert won't bother some of you. If it does rain you'll have to worry about flash flooding. Other than that your biggest concern will just be making sure you ration your water properly, and I have of course sent enough with y'all that it should last you at least until you get where there are rivers and creeks again. As for alternate routes, I'm afraid there aren't many. I've got one marked off in red for you should anything happen, but for the first part of your journey water is so sparse that you have to hit specific watering holes or you risk endangering the hippogriffs. Of course you'll have the ocean for part of your journey, but that really doesn't do much good as far as drinking water. You'll have a few more options when water gets more plentiful."

Defiance accepted the tea with a nod of gratitude, taking a sip as he listened to Mr. Garrick answer his first set of questions. Hot, dry, and beyond the odd chance of flash flooding, it would be water that would be the key concern. The man certainly said as much, and the tiefling went through his mind to figure out what they could do for water should planning have proven insufficient. First thought, in the rare chance it did rain, they could collect rain water, that would be a relatively safe method of collection, though that relied on, well, rain in a desert. That also creates the concern for flash flooding, but that bridge would get burned if they had to cross it. Alternative routes didn't exist until they were well and truly out of the water starved leg, but that meant anyone looking to waylay this caravan would be also able to plot out the route. No real means to avoid conflict if it was looking for them, then. Once water is more plentiful options opened up, and they did have one backup though they needed to hit watering holes for the sake of the hippogriffs. The ocean was a welcome bit of news, even if not for drinking water, it was vastly preferred over the desert alone.

"Meaning anyone wishing to try and waylay us would know our route without too much effort, given the need for water. So trouble is pretty much certain, good to know. So, on a less pragmatic footing, I'm curious what has an elderly human, no offense, willing to overlook the horns and such that most of time has people throwing holy symbols and praying, and all that fun nonsense. Otherwise, your letter mentioned the Pheonix reaching its destination was of utmost importance, even above everything else. I have trouble believing money alone is the reason for that, care to explain that one or is it one of life's little mysteries?"

"Frankly, my boy, I couldn't care less about your heritage. What I care about is how well you can do your work, and word of mouth says that you're pretty damn good. As far as the phoenix goes, pardon my bluntness, but that's between my client and I."

Defiance snorted in genuine amusement at the remark on how well he could do his work. Apparently someone had been saying nice things behind his back, or at least honest things. He could work with that, frankly, and the remark was somewhat worth of respect. As for the pheonix, he wasn't surprised that was a stonewalled avenue, and he shrugged, returning to his chair, tea in one hand and the unfolded map in the other as he took to studying the route in detail. He could pry information from the hired help along the way, or hells, maybe the pheonix itself would prove to be a source of information all its own. Still, even if he got nowhere, the pay was good and he couldn't argue that. He might take some of that funding they were getting before hand to stock up on extra water, he hated deserts, but he wouldn't have come out to this job if he wasn't willing.

"Fair points, no more questions from me. I'll hang onto the map unless someone else wants to see it, going to see about fine tuning our route where ever possible. Never hurts to be prepared."