Background story from Loki's self-imposed exile from Portland to his arrival and settling in in Denver.
[Cara'Sir, North District slums]
"Oh, drek..."
Looking around, Loki watched as several obviously armed thugs approached his little corner of Portland. "Seems like my luck has finally run out", he thought as he pondered the events of the last months for a split second while the thugs made their way through the crowds on the street.
The city had always been busy, but after the north wall came down in '70 all sorts of refuges and hopefuls had flowed across the borders. His mentor had been pleased by these events, however, calling the influx of people a blessing in disguise, as it meant more opportunities for them to carry out their plan and remain in hiding. Some called it Raven, others called it Trickster, and people in general had a whole lot of other terms for it, but Loki had chosen his street name as an homage to his mentor based on the ancient Norse mythological being that seemed to fit the mischievous spirit the most; unknowingly complex, and a catalyst of change.
"Well, this is certainly no time to loose yourself in thought, Loki", he thought as the first of the thugs stepped into the alley where Loki was hiding. "Time to go to work".
[3 months later, Denver, Pueblo Corporate Council]
Loki was seated at a typical dive bar across from the bartender, another elf, waiting for his ride. He'd heard rumours about this place back in Cara'Sir, rumours that tied this particular bar to the Rinelle ke'Tesrae. Alessia had always been tight lipped about Dawn's connections to the group, and he suspected that the two women knew far more than they had told him when he'd asked them for help to get out of the Tir for a while.
He watched as the bartender poured the only other customer in the place another glass of wine; the vintage was recent, and smelled as if it had been distilled through someone's kidneys. Loki was used to living rough but this place took the concept to a whole new level. Still, it was where he was meeting the transporter that Dawn had arranged for Loki at Alessia's request. The trip had been hard, leaving Alessia had been hard, but he'd messed things up and good with the street gangs and the Vory back home. No way they were going to let him go after he'd walked into the warehouse masquerading as a fellow gang member and proceeded to light their entire novacoke stash on fire. He still couldn't figure out how they'd linked him to the crime; the disguise had been flawless. Never the less, the gangers they'd sent after him had been severely lacking in the mojo department; he'd disabled the so-called "street mage" the instant he'd seen her with a ball of lightning to the chest, and then spun his illusions to confuse the rest. One by one he'd picked them apart, playing the field like a puppeteer working his strings. The last one had been better than the rest, but being set on fire tended to make anyone forget about their current business. Loki had been tired, but he'd gotten away; it was Alessia that suggested that maybe Portland was too hot a town for him right now, and who'd arranged for the transport to the PCC near Denver.
"No matter," he thought to himself as he politely refused a refill of his water. His attention was drawn to the door as a stubby looking norm walked in the door, and the bartender must have done the same as he loudly proclaimed that his kind was unwelcome in the place. "That's gotta be my driver; no way a norm would willingly walk into this place," Loki thought, as the man replied in a sour tone that he was merely here on business.
Smiling from ear to ear, Loki turned around on his stool and spoke up. "Hoi, chummer, looks like you're out of your depth. Nothing but Rocky Mountain High's here, omae!" The code phrase had been given to him by Dawn, who'd agreed upon it with some contact of hers in Denver named Siren. Apparently there was work to be had in the Mile High City, and Loki couldn't afford to be picky. He'd picked up a few more layers of clothing along the way, and he slung the backpack containing his survival kit and his other precious few belongings over his shoulder as the short human grunted his acknowledgement of the code phrase. Following the guy out, Loki began whistling an old tune he'd heard on the trid, once, and finished off with it's iconic catchphrase as he stepped outside. "It's hip to be square".
[1 month later, Denver, Front Range Free Zone]
It had been one hell of a ride so far; Loki thought Cara'Sir had been crowded, but that had been nothing compared to Denver after Aztechnology's little stunt with reclaiming the land south of the FRFZ they claimed was theirs. Frankly, Loki was surprised that Ghostwalker hadn't evicted them with extreme prejudice yet, as he understood was par for the course where the old dragon was concerned.
But, while Aztechnology's foray back into Denver brought a lot of people to the city, it also brought a lot of business. He'd been conning gullible tourists left and right, worked as a street performer for a little while, found several new nice nightclubs in all areas of the city catering to different tastes, and occasionally gone home with a pretty little thing, both high society and low. "Doesn't matter where they lay their heads," Loki thought, "as long as they let me lay down next to them."
Sitting in his humble abode in the UCAS sector of the City, not too close to the Aurora Warrens, thankfully, he was reminded of his time with Alessia back home at Klub Haze; that place had been a blast, and he hoped he'd have the chance to go back some day. He'd met an interesting feller the other day, guy called himself Handsome Jack, and appropriately so. The man had seemed amused by Loki's illusions as he'd been talking one of the waitresses into buying him a drink on the house in exchange for some entertainment, and he'd ended up talking to Jack about the Tir for the rest of the night. Loki had still taken that cute waitress home, but he'd left Jack his commcode in case he ever wanted to talk about the old country again, and because Loki had gotten the distinct impression that Jack had connections in the Shadows, a fact that suited Loki just fine. He'd even considered leaving a faint suggestion in the mans mind, but had managed to resist the temptation. Playing tricks on potential employers was a bad idea, not matter how fun it might be; He had exchanged a few more conversations with the man during the last couple of weeks, and he'd slowly but surely been hinting at wanting an in into the Denver shadows, hoping that Jack would bite.
The driver that had taken him across the PCC border into the FRFZ, going by the street name Shade, had proven reliable; not only had the trip in gone without incident, Loki had managed to hitch a ride around town with the guy on a few other occasions, paying him with nuyen when he could and with the occasional tidbit of information or a commcode to one of the people in his little black book when he couldn't. The cons wouldn't keep paying the rent for the place Alessia had set him up with, however, so he decided to hit the streets to run a few more cons.
"Maybe I should check in with Shade or Handsome Jack, see if they have any business going..." he thought as he slung on a few more layers of clothing and then the lined coat, heading out into the fresh Denver air to see what business he could drum up.
