Chapter 4
"Smoke and Mirrors"
The city is New Reno, a normally bustling post-war hive of commerce and opportunity. Though most residents would use the words 'crime' and 'villainy' its really just a matter of perspective.
In this particular part of town, called the Shadows or Shadow Alley, there is no hustle and no bustle. The dim streets are quiet save for the few bums and druggies passed out along the sidewalks. Its a dark place where sunlight meets the street only in sparse patches on bright days. The buildings along this street were tall before the war but when the blast struck the force weakened many of the structures to the point they toppled over leaning on shorter more stout buildings. And so most of the once proud spires are bent and bowed, their walls meeting high overhead creating a concrete and iron canopy. Because of the perpetual darkness all but the lowest kind of people avoid the area making this spot bad for business and leaving it largely unoccupied.
The only people who do venture into Shadow Alley have very particular and usually secretive business.
Such is the case with a group of three men walking determinedly down the street at this very moment. It seems the dapper trio is headed toward a short building with a crimson curtain for a door. It was probably a restaurant in old times, the faded remnants of a sign that vaguely reads "bakery" sits above the window… not that what is was matters, now its just another derelict building with its once charming windows blackened.
The men approach the building with the tallest in the lead. He gestures for the other two to hang back while he walks up to the red cloth door. They do as instructed. The tallest man walks up to the reentrance.
"What do you want?" comes a young voice from behind the curtain.
"Chauser?" the velvety smooth voice inquires "I'm here for an audience with Chaucer."
"Whom seeks this audience?" an obviously adolescent voice with an unusually serious tone demands.
After a small pause the man at the door casually responds: "My employer is Itarek Daulgheste, that's who sent me."
"And your name?"
"Embur."
"Come in – alone."
The largest man, tall with long white hair drawn back in a low pony-tail with pale skin and dark eyes steps through the curtain into a dim room, his Amber colored eyes look to the side at a boy dressed darkly, barely 15 he guesses, eyes obscured by wild black hair. With a gloved hand the boy directs Embur's attention to a suddenly lit candle on a table at the far end of the room, seated at the table is a woman with an unusually beautiful face. Embur walks confidently to the table and sits.
"And what can I do for Mr. Daulgheste?" A velvety smooth voice flows from motionless lips; at this the gentleman realizes with barely hidden surprise that the lovely face is an artfully crafted mask.
"Focus Mr. Embur. My time is precious."
Snapping back to the task at hand he nods curtly. "Mr Daulgheste expects quick action, and the utmost discretion. I have the file on the mark in my left pocket. May I?"
She nods her approval. He can feel another presence somewhere near behind him, probably the boy with a gun – the insurance. It is only expected.
Reaching into his left coat pocket he produces an envelope. He places it on the table.
"Your reply will be expected by noon tomorrow." With that Mr. Embur stands from the table. He takes a step toward the door "Chaucer" he nods.
"Embur." She nods in reply.
Without a glance to the boy Mr. Embur, right-hand to the most powerful man in New Reno, exits into the murky sunlight.
Outside the derelict bakery the two men stand waiting for Embur to return. One man, with short white-blond hair glances around anxiously while fiddling with the wring on his left his hand ever so slightly. The other man, his head topped with wild crimson colored hair stands still hands in pockets. The red curtain swishes aside and Embur emerges, his pale gray suit as tidy and sharp as when he entered and his face a mask of indifference.
"That was quick." Mused the red-haired man, Quake is his name; he has sharp features and warm toned skin. He looks thin despite his flowing black trench coat, but his movements betray him as limber -there is a formidable aura about him that is subtle as his smile.
He searches his pockets for something, his piercing gray eyes casually glancing toward the red curtain.
"Too quick..." The younger, pail haired man, Avek, states casting a glare toward the doorway "suspicious..."
He resembles Embur to no small degree, save for his hair being short and his less pallid skin.
"Avek, everything is suspicious to you. Calm yourself... both of you. It is always this quick." Embur remarks dryly to the duo as one would reply to a child.
The red haired man continues unperturbed. "But why him? Chaucer I mean." Having found the cigarette he was searching for he lights it up "Why not one of us? Why not someone proven?" Taking the cigarette between his fingers Quake holds his breath savoring the flavor, exhaling slowly he shivers causing his once red hair to turn a deep shade of blue and his eyes from gray to aqua.
"Exactly!" Avek chimes in agreement.
Embur replies coolly but with a hint of annoyance as he starts to walk back the way they came, the other two naturally follow. "Because Mr. Daulgheste deems this matter too important for anyone but Chaucer. There is discretion to be considered."
"I think its a mistake to hire someone so... theatrical." Avek glances back at the curtained doorway a hard expression on his face.
"He's taking an unnecessary risk with this outsider, I don't know why..."
Embur halts suddenly facing Avek, nearly causing the younger man to crash into him. "Mr. Daulgheste wishes it! That is enough. Remember your tongue Avek, I will not suffer impertinence." His voice is low, threatening, and the younger man that resembles him so much subtly shrinks to silence. Quake looks on, expressionless, but his teal eyes flash to red.
"Come." With a gesture the two men follow Embur out of Shadow Alley, through the streets of New Reno finally to the tall gray building on the East side - the "Tower of Bable" casino.