It was the same thing day in and day out. Troy basically lived at the bar, not necessarily drinking, but occupying the corner seat often enough to have it saved for him on the few occasions when he slipped out. At first he had been strapped for cash, barely having enough to get by, and drank himself under the table on a regular basis. However, since that 'dragon overlord' showed up, business had picked up. Of course, Troy had missed the arrival and the whole speech thing, but he had gotten most of it from the men who had come in, speaking some nonsense about dragons before drowning their sorrows in a few rounds.<br/><br/>Troy had used this to his advantage. He was a hacker, a pick pocket, a thief...what better way to make some spare coin than by preying on the clearly distressed citizens of this here city? You need a gun? Troy's got your back. Need some item smuggled out to your relatives two towns over? Done. If there was a slim chance it could be done, and if you had the money to pay for it, Troy was your guy.<br/><br/>So naturally when he had heard about this overlord, he had 'pledged his allegiance' to the cause, brought in information on secret stashes and pockets of both people and dragons hiding away from the new leader's clutch. The pay was good, one could hardly beat the sacks of gold the dragons gave him. But when news of the Rebellion reached his ears, Troy had acted fast. Using his various connections and drunken patrons, Troy had figured out who the leader of this Rebellion was and had sent one Tesla a note.<br/><br/>It had taken a few days, but Troy was informed that the note had been delivered and all he had to do now was wait. Sitting at the bar, his laptop waiting patiently back in his corner, whirring away with lines of code scrolling across the screen, Troy waited, his drink of choice occupying his hands. When the man pointed the weapon at him, he laughed, turning on the old bar stool.<br/><br/>"I wonder, is this how you meet all new applicants?" He asked, grinning. Before the man had time to answer, Troy reached out his hand. "Troy, Troy Byrne. I'm guessing you've heard of me if you went to all the trouble of coming out to this place." He gestured around himself at the old bar. Slowly leaning back against the wooden counter, Troy rested his arms across it, his grin slowly disappearing, though a glint still shown in his eyes.<br/><br/>"Tell me Tesla, how much are you willing to pay for what I got?"