Speak the Word

[Serious Paul]

The Razers Edge was the sort of place that cleaned the blood up off the floor boards with saw dust. Located just behind the tracks that serviced the docks of Downtown, and Alaskan way it was frequented by merchant sailors,and dock workers who rubbed elbows with Go-gangers and hookers while thrash metal played at ear drum shattering levels.

Abe and Smoke had a table in the back corner of the bar,just underneath a tattered Tir flag that the bar's owner Iron Eddie had taken during the battle of Redding. Quicksilver moved through the bar with grace and confidence, her icy cold stare and chrome eyes made sure few attempted to intercept her. As she slid into the both Abe launched into a rapid fire conversation about the mage, and at the end all she could say was, "Wait, are you telling me Gryce is a ghoul?"

[Bishop]

Smoke looked up, feral grin on his young face. "No, I'm telling you he's a Ghoul. He hides it well, but it's there for those with Sight to see."


The Shaman leaned back, lighting a cigarette, nodding his head in rhythm to the death metal being banged out by the band on stage, seeming oblivious to the hornet's nest he just stirred up with one sentence to the two.