It’s just after Noon on a Wednesday when Your commlink chirps. Checking it, you notice that it's a conference call, and you see a matrix icon that resembles the traditional smiley face image, only red and cocked to one side, with little jagged lines resembling tusks on the mouth of the icon. Answering the call, the icon is replaced by a male ork. His face is lined with age; his hair and goatee is touched with grey and a pair of golden datajacks gleam along his left temple. Wire-frame glasses sit upon his nose, the kind that correct your vision, not tinted mirrorshades that make you look badass or even the more modern AR glasses or goggles, but honest-to-ghost reading glasses.
“Hoi chummers!” the ork says with a cheerful grin. “Sorry for the unsolicited call but mutual acquaintances say you might be interested in a bit of biz. If you’re interested, head on over to Underworld 93 tonight at 7. I know you gentlemen haven't been properly introduced- but it's a cakewalk, for real. Anywho, there’s a small concert going on. Let the doorman know you’re there to see MacCallister, and he’ll get you some good seats. After the show’s over, we’ll have a chat and I’ll tell you a bit more. interested?”