<strong>Name:</strong>Aunnel<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Anyone<br/><br/>The soft sound of Aunnel’s footfalls striking the pavement provided a backdrop to the conversation he was having on his cell phone. “Good. Also, I’m pushing tithe day up by a week make sure everyone knows. And where are we on the pamphlets?.... Excellent! Make sure that every member gets some…. I don’t care! Have them pass the damn things out at work if they have to. We’ll never grow unless my word is spread faster. Oh and tell, what’s his name? The one with the cane, always sits in the front row…. Mr. Dacus?... Ok, well tell Mr. Dacus to send his wife over to my place, I need it cleaned….What do I care if it’s his daughter! Just have him send the bitch over to clean the house!..Good! Alright I’m going to hang up now.”<br/><br/>A moment later Aunnel was placing the phone back in his pocket. The weekly call to Diego who currently served as the “Profit of The Great One,” which was the bullshit title that Aunnel had come up with for the leader of the new cult he was forming in Middle City, out of the way. In truth Aunnel hated the man, for the simple reason that Diego actually believed and was in the situation for nothing more than to bring ‘enlightenment’ to others. Even just thinking about it caused Aunnel to roll his eyes. From time to time, especially after calls like the one he’d just had to go through,  Aunnel had considered getting out of the worship game. But the increase in raw power that came from all his little cultists was just something he considered worth the effort. Besides this was always the hardest point in the whole cult cycle, getting the damn thing off the ground. He was confident that in a few weeks if not at the very most a month or two the cult would have enough momentum to continue on its own without his direct involvement.<br/><br/>“Enough of that” Aunnel said to himself as he approached the doors to the club and pushed the thoughts from his mind and turned them towards the immediate situation. He was here tonight in order to find out the truth behind some rumors that had been circulating of a person or group of people looking to take the fight to the major gangs in the city. And admittedly he was also open to the idea of finding a mortal to play with for the night. He was wearing an extremely expensive suit. The pants were a dark grey, as was the over coat with a solid black shirt and a dark red tie.  He’d chosen dark brown hair for the night but had decided to shorten to a more traditional tapered look and give it the appearance of being combed straight back. He’d also done away with his facial hair, wishing to present a more professional appearance tonight. In all he wouldn’t have been out of place in a high level court room or in a CEO’s office.<br/><br/>He didn’t have any trouble getting past the bouncers at the front. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, at least not on any plane that someone would be able to sense without his allowing it, and as such they had no reason to hold him up. This was compounded by the fact that they were paying decidedly more attention to some near out of control situation happening further inside the place.<br/><br/>Once inside the club Aunnel made his way to the bar. He sat down at an empty seat and motioned to the person at the bar “I’ll have bourbon on the rocks.”  The bar tender made his way down the bar and quickly returned with Aunnel’s drink.<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Name: </strong>Tork<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Anyone<br/><br/>A minute or two after Aunnel had entered the bar, a particularly large orc entered wearing a black pair of jeans and some web gear (http://ballistictech.com/catalog/images/Vest.jpg) passing as a shirt. He had actually arrived at the bar quite earlier than he'd entered. It had just taken him several minutes to finish checking all the assorted grenades and other random explosives that he had within his vest. All of theses items along with his custom shotgun were now in the possession of one of the orc doormen. Tork had no doubt they'd be safe there, considering that every orc knew not to fuck with another orc's kit.<br/><br/>As he entered the bar's main room Tork's eyes immediately fell on the two orcs laying slumped against the wall, then they fell on the third orc face up near the bar. He shook his head at the sight, part of him wanting to find out what had happened. He genuinely hoped that this wasn't what the one putting out the request for muscle meant by 'keep things quiet' if so Tork had no doubt that he could teach the man more than a few things about the real meaning of sneaky...<br/><br/>He was about to head to the bar when he noticed a large black orc staring down what appeared to be a normal human being. Instead of making a b-line for what appeared to be a possible fight Tork circled around to a spot a bit further down the bar, next to a centaur and a satyr and got the guy behind the bar to give him a beer.