<strong>"Hmmm?  Oh.  I have no idea.  I'm not a cartomancer.  My associate had to step away for a moment.  Three cups of coffee, you understand."</strong>He grins.<strong>"So I guess we get in a little training for the day.  Better than watching paint dry."</strong><br/><br/>He stands, stretches.<br/><br/>"Let's go."<br/><br/>(swipe cut to...)<br/><br/>The gym he leads you to looks, from the outside, like a warehouse.  Inside, it still looks like a warehouse, but winding through the part of it that's full of crates and loading gear you find the back third or so has a rather complicated looking workout arrangement.  At a glimpse, it looks like a cross between an open air dojo and the sort of thing that contestants for American Ninja Warrior would work up in their basement.  The two full weapons racks of medieval hardware from at least four cultures also draws your eye.  There are about a dozen people using the space at the moment, and about a third of them are catgirls.<br/><br/><strong>"Here we are."</strong>He gestures to a pair of doors off to one side.<strong>"Locker rooms and showers are in there.  Women on the left, men on the right.  Let's get you started.  I need to know what I'm working with."</strong>