[Keita]

Xerena nodded. Ah! So it seemed that she was right after all, and more than just Dunkelzahn had known about this. It also spoke of the danger the situation posed that action took such circuitous routes. She regarded Arleesh frankly, returning her gaze and attention, matching her outward show of relaxation. After everything she'd been through in the last twenty years, very little scared Xerena - not even her own death. It wasn't arrogance, or self-importance. She simply had nothing left to lose, and an iron will directed at achieing her goals.

"Thank you, lady Arleesh. I understand. Now, as the Wyrm Ouroboros mentioned, you had some information to exchange for our silence? He left me with the impression that there was something more to this than an exchange he could easily have handled on your behalf."

[Mirikon]

Seeing that Arleesh didn't want to talk to him, Iceblade did the simplest thing, and shut up, leaning against the back of the booth as he sipped his drink. Honestly, if there wasn't a chance that they could get some seriously valuable info out of this meet, he'd have preferred to publish it already, and be done with it. But he wasn't going to antagonize a dragon by butting into a conversation where he wasn't wanted. So he simply closed his eyes, and listened as he drank. Still, the information they got from this would have to be very valuable.

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

It wasn't Dunkelzahn, it was your own intrusion that got her the information. But that was months ago -- months to develop a counterstroke, to start putting it into place, actions taken that, should the information be revealed now, would be utterly disrupted, made moot.  The ... entity in question would be certain to move to a new place of concealment.

As for Iceblade, well -- Madrecita's question lay at the core of things.  If her concern could not be satisfied, then any offer Arleesh might have made would have been so much snow in the midsummer desert.  Once that was over with, though, both of them were on the same page, and things could progress.

"Yes," Arleesh again stated with simplicity.  "Information is perhaps not the right term.  Say instead, instruction."

[Keita]

"Instruction?" Xerena asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Recovering quickly, her mind went into overdrive. It was not often a dragon made an offer that that. "You've certainly managed to get my attention, lady Arleesh. I'm listening."

[Mirikon]

Iceblade's eyes opened at the word 'instruction', and one eyebrow went up. A wyrm divulging secrets was rare enough. One willing to teach the 'young races' something was almost unheard of! So, instruction in return for a delay in the publication? That could be worth it, indeed. "Indeed."

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

The SoAmerInd woman lifted the slender glass of Taéngelé for a short, delicate sip, letting the two ponder the potential riches before them as she returned the glass to the table and removed her hand from it.  "Yes."  She glanced at Iceblade, her expression cooling for a moment once again before she continued.  "This is why your audience members are an unpleasant bother.  Even such things," she gestured at the white noise generator with a meaningful flick of her forefinger, "are not proof against countering.

"Suffice it to say that if there is something of which you desire to expand your knowledge, I or one of my people is likely to be one to provide you with training.  Even the esoteric deeper truths, if such is your pursuit, but understand this: to be taught is to teach, and to receive information one must first give.  If you are to be taught, then you must first tell what you already know."

[Keita]

Xerena shook her head ruefully. "Not nearly enough. To give an idea, I am a fourth grade initiate. Much of my early life was spent in the medical profession, and that influenced the magic I learned. I can heal and restore the body quite well. It was only later in life that I applied magic to combat and detection, and later still that I began to seek wisdom. For the last 13 years I have devoted myself to rooting out and destroying evil, specifically in the pursuit and destruction of blood and toxic mages. Much of what I have learned in that time was geared toward that goal...but also toward a greater understanding of life and its place in the universe. Wolf teaches respect for all living things, to live in harmony with everything you share the world with, and to kill only when there is need. Toxics and blood mages...they are like the rabid coyote: a threat to all who live. I have learned much, for a metahuman, but I am acutely aware that I know only a little about each of a variety of pursuits, and virtually nothing of the whole. I am aware of the limits this places on my ability to act against evil. My devotion to this only increased after seeing what we did."

[Mirikon]

Iceblade met Arleesh's gaze, steeling himself as it cooled. If the dragon decided to kill him, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was no match for a great dragon, and even a normal dragon, at this range, would make short work of him. "The 'audience', as you put it, was intended as a safeguard. It encourages both sides to play nice. Though if we'd known who we were meeting, we would have arranged something more private."

At the request to tell what they knew, he nodded. "I'm not initiated, yet, though my training is as a combat mage, so the majority of my focus has gone into enhancing my abilities in combat, though I've developed those to a point where I am looking to enhance my magical abilities as well. I follow Shark, as I said, which means that when blood is in the water, I am there. Shark does not play with its food, like Cat does. The killing blow is quick, clean, and efficient. I have no desire to spread suffering, and will not leave an enemy lying with a mortal wound if I can help it. If they are past the point of healing, I end their pain. That is Shark's role. Shark cleanses the waters of the sick and the dying, the weak and the old. Shark does nothing out of malice or anger, but simple necessity. I am a killer, but I do not kill without reason."

He looked at Xerena, and then back at the dragon, "After what we've seen, I'd like to learn more. There are forces that are... ill disposed towards living creatures in general, and metahumans in particular, it seems, and I would see them rooted out and cleansed, before they can bring everything to ruin. Because what I saw to the South is a threat to everything we know, unless I miss my mark." He pulled out a pair of optical chips from one pocket, and set them on the table. He slid the first towards Arleesh and Wyrm's side of the table, and said, "As for those events, in doing my research before the run, I went to the Nexus and accessed the old Shadowland file on that land to the south. This chip contains that file. You'll find the most appropriate section on virtual pages 67 and 68. It also contains a simrig recording of what we saw, and while it does not record the astral, we did perceive, and saw what the Big D wished his 'guests' to know for ourselves. We saw the... damaged sections writhing. It is not something one could easily forget. I have seen the unmasked aura of dragons, even great dragons, and have never seen something so frightful in my life."

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

Here, perhaps curiously, the attention of the cyber-armed Shivowtnoeh came into sharper focus; though he continued to smoke (having lit up again, possibly in blatant defiance to any posted 'No Smoking' signs, with the cigarette held between thumb and forefinger, ember inside the cupped palm and concealed by his mechanical fingers) the Russian's gaze tightened on each of the two as they'd spoken.  When Mirikon slid the datachips across the table, he gestured a 'let me see that' with his flesh hand, and then stretched out to slide the chip in front of Arleesh closer before picking it up and tucking it into a self-actuating chipjack in his arm.  He clearly mentally scanned the information, then grunted.  "Well," he said to Iceblade, "you do your research, even if you fail the self-honesty test."

The Wyrm and Arleesh, when Iceblade slid the chips over, exchanged glances; Arleesh did not prevent Shivowtnoeh from taking the chip.  "I was made aware," said the woman carefully, "of that gathering and the results thereof.  However ..."  She looked around once again, then gave an extremely inhuman hiss of displeasure, practically under her breath.  Even to the most obtuse at the table, it was obvious she still did not feel comfortable having this discussion.

"Dama," said Shivowtnoeh with the casual offense only a former Soviet can pull off without giving real offense, "I will be handling this."  He pointed at Iceblade with the three mechanical fingers not holding his cigarette.  "You.  You can have all these people piss off, yes?  Most of them, they go away, the others for you, they stay on other side of bar.  Hawatari, Wyrm, they stay with them, good behavior for all.  Some of what we are saying they cannot hear."  He paused to take a drag on his cigarette, then continued quietly. "It is not that they are not knowing, but it is not for them ... it is not for me to be telling to them.

"This is arrangement for hearing what I offer: there is no declining this.  Some of what we say, you may decide you do not want, so is arrangement, you not remember.  Two of you here, so each supervises the other."  From an inside pocket of his greatcoat he took an almost shockingly simple - and ancient - magnetic-tape-cassette recorder, then another almost-flat case nearly identical to the battered and scarred stainless steel case in which he kept his foul Soviet cigarettes.  Once he pressed the catch release on the stainless steel case, it opened to reveal four simple and identically-clear-sided hypospray injectors.

"These two," he taps the two green ones, "are leäl.  These two," the blue ones, "a variant -- ten to twenty minutes of memory loss, a minute or two unconscious.  First, you agree that if you do not want what is my offer, you will take drug, which one is depends on how long we talk.  You," again the three-fingered pointing at Iceblade, "supervise her, to make sure we do nothing bad, then she supervise you.  If that is decision,"  he nudged the tape, "you make recording, telling yourself you do not want; we play when you wake up, so you are telling you that you decided no."

He looks around at the others in the bar.  "I did not bring enough for all, and can not run risk of so many people.  We pay bar for space - here, back room, whatever.  You arrange, yes?"  This last is to Iceblade.

Through this, Arleesh actually seemed to be slouching in her chair - or perhaps that was pouting, it was hard to tell.  The Wyrm mostly rubbed his fingers over his eyes, looking a little resigned and a lot tired.

Hawatari, on the other hand, spent the time since the start of the 'information exchange' studying each of the two shadowrunners in turn.  She'd held herself relatively still, adjusting it only when she shifted her attention from Madrecita to Iceblade.

[Mirikon]

Iceblade didn't hesitate as he allowed Shivowtnoeh to take the first chip, though his eyes narrowed at the 'self-honesty' dig. The second chip he left on his side of the table, nor did he say what was on it. He looked over to the Russian, and said, "I can make arrangements for a private room. I see no reason to keep the audience any more." He rose from his chair, and offered a bow to Arleesh, before saying, "It will only take a moment to make the arrangements." He looked at Hawatari, and said, "If you wish, you may come along and listen in, just to be certain that I do nothing underhanded." With that, he left the table, that second chip remaining where it sat, unmentioned.

He walked over to the bartender and spoke softly in sperethiel, though loud enough for Hawatari to hear, if she followed. [Sperethiel]"We're moving to the private room, Shanna." The bartender chuckled as her eyebrow went up, and she started to speak, before Iceblade cut her off. [Sperethiel]"No, not that one. The business room."

Shannaleth frowned slightly, and shook her head. [Sperethiel]"It isn't finished being painted! You know what a mess they made, the last time they had a 'meeting' there. Who knew Yaks bled so much?"

Iceblade chuckled. [Sperethiel]"Well, they at least covered up the blood, right? And the soundproofing is in place? The guests are more concerned with privacy than comfort, at the moment. Don't worry, the usual rate. And dinner at the Eye of the Needle when I get back from Europe."

Shannaleth giggled at that. [Sperethiel]"You charmer. All right. If they don't mind paint fumes, then the business suite is open." Looking at Hawatari, she switched to English. "Up the stairs and to the left. And watch out for this one, real ladykiller, he is."

Iceblade just rolled his eyes, "Shanna, how many times must I ask you not to spread those rumors while I'm working?"

Returning to the table, he said, "The upstairs room is ready. They were currently doing some remodelling, due to an unfortunate incident with a lost Yakuza, and so it won't be as comfortable as down here, but it is secure. If you would please follow me?"

He picked up the white noise generator (as well as the second chip, if it was still there) and headed up the stairs and to the end of the hallway at the left. Light was provided by a series of lights made to seem like torches in wall brackets. Iceblade stopped in front of the blank wall at the end of the hall, and pulled on one of the torch holders. A section of wall slid outward, revealing a small room behind. He waited to see if one of the bodyguards wished to step through first, and then entered himself if they did not. The room was soundproofed, and the walls acted as a Faraday cage. There was a single table with four chairs, and a small bed, made up with clean sheets, though a drop cloth was over it at the moment. An iron hook hung from the ceiling. The walls were half-painted, in the middle of going from a beige color, with a white primer over that (which almost disguised a large bloodstain on one wall) and a forest green color. It was clearly meant as a private meeting room that could be used to store people, either voluntarily or not.

Iceblade went to the table and offered a chair first for Xerena, and then Arleesh, assuming she didn't object to the setting. There was room for all six of them in there, though it would be slightly cramped quarters. Seemed there was more than one reason Iceblade arranged for the meeting downstairs, instead of the private room.

[Keita]

Xerena followed when Miri led the party up the stairs to the small, secured room. She noted the blood, but showed no reaction to it, smiling warmly at Miri as he offered her a chair. She surreptitiously brushed her hand over his in a gesture of support and affection as she took her seat, having noted his reaction to Shivowtnoeh's words.

With the dragon's demands for privacy met, and their tacit aceptance of the conditions under which they would talk, the ball was now squarely in Arleesh's court. Xerena regarded her impassively, merely waiting to see what would be said.

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

Hawatari looked up at Mirikon as he made his offer, and gives him a quiet, warm smile.  "No need," she replied, "but thank you for your willingness."  She remained alert and attentive in regarding the rest of the individuals in the bar, and though she was the first one into the room after Iceblade, (noting the blood on the wall with a small twitch of her lips) she exited and gave the 'all clear' to the Wyrm and Arleesh, after which she remained outside.

The Wyrm handed Arleesh into a chair even as Iceblade did the same for Xerena, and appeared to have missed the gesture of the latter to the former.  He straightened, though, and said, "Though I'd prefer to stay, for this I'm not supposed to, so."

Shivowtnoeh gave the hacker a broad smile, to which the Wyrm replied, "Yeah, yeah, you got yours coming.  See, I'm going to go finish my glass of Taéngelé - and then I'm going to drink your glass."

The Russian frowned thunderously at this, at which the Wyrm had laughed, and exited the room.

Once the door was closed, and both males had settled to their chosen seats - Shivowtnoeh to Arleesh's right - the Russian again produced both the case of leäl and its lessened cousin.  "So," he said in his apparently-deliberately-thick accent.  "You each must agree.  Out loud.  Or else Dama Arleesh and I give you some information, we set up some time to train each of you better in chosen magic, and we go on our way."  He nods towards the tape recorder.  "You press red button to record.  Your agreement, you say to tape that if you are hearing this, you decided against what we offer.  Give it a little bit after each of you, to make gap."

[Keita]

"Alright." Xerena said as she leaned forward and pressed the red button. "If I'm hearing this recording, it means I turned down an offer in favour of receiving instruction in magic only. Due to the sensitive nature of this offer, I agreed to take leäl if I turned it down. If I am hearing this, I am content with just instruction and nothing else. I say this of my own free will, under no duress whatsoever, and to reassure myself of this, the code word is Manawi."

She leaned back and looked at Miri, then back to Arleesh.

[Mirikon]

Iceblade settled into the chair next to Xerena, and waited for a couple beats, before saying into the recorder, [Sperethiel]"You know what has happened. You recognize the symptoms. Not the first time, not the last. But this was your idea. You agreed to the drug, after turning down the offer for more than basic instruction. You weren't under duress. Colonel Mirikon Mollen nee Darkholme, Tir Tairngir Peace Forces. Codename: Iceblade. Challenge code: Whiskey Seven."

With that, he cut off the tape recorder, and looked up at Arleesh.

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

For a long few moments after Iceblade has pressed the 'stop' button on the cassette player, the four people in the room looked at each other. The expression on Arleesh's face was ... perhaps the best word to use would be 'hawklike'. Predatory, yes, but more interested in perceiving what was truly there, as compared to what was being shown or displayed. She regarded both Iceblade and Madrecita roughly equally, then settled back and looked at Shivowtnoeh.

The Russian sighed, then leaned forward to pull the tape recorder towards him, hitting the 'reverse' button to make the thing whir for a few moments before hitting the start of the tape. "Well. Okay."  Staying leaned forward, he laced mechanical fingers with natural, and looked at them for a long moment as if gathering his thoughts - or his courage. "Right.  So."  Finally, he looked up at the two of you and starts to talk.

"Dama Arleesh is sponsor, how you say, patron of organization that we do not talk about much. We are groups - one group, several chapters - of people who hunt bad magic. People, places, things, this does not matter. Some of us, we have had, how you say, bad experiences with magic - close call with insect spirit, lost friends to toxic magic, been corrupted for short time by focus infected with imp. We are concerned with, hmmm, taking care of such things, however possible.

"Is sometimes," he lifts the mechanical hand to flex it, "with spirit, or sword, or spell; is sometimes with lead, or rocket, or information to right people at right time. Information you take from Aztechnology, plus information we get from things you plant there for Ken, helps us with just such a threat.  However, this is not what we are talking about.  We are talking about what we offer you for helping us ... finalize the problem.

"We approach people who dedicate themselves to taking care of these problems. They help us, we help them. Work together to take out major threats. Help each other out when we need to.  Teach each other things."  He gave a small smile.  "Help each other initiate."

Slowly he runs his natural hand across the surface of the table.  "So.  You, Ms. Madrecita, we want.  We have information about your work down south, and it is very much in our line, so really, you have much to recommend you.  It also helps that you have experience with, what is term - metamagics," he adds.

Shifting his attention to Iceblade, he continued.  "Of you I am still not certain.  Capable, yes, you are, and this is something useful to us.  But proud, arrogant, not honest with others - perhaps not with yourself, I do not know this yet."  He tapped the table with two mechanical fingers.  "I know Shark too, see.  Not in person, no, but I am seeing how Shark goes mad when blood is in water.  Loses focus, loses control.  Many times, loses life - or life of people counting on him.  This," he tapped the table again, "this has happened to member of my team."

He paused, then added, "Judgement, too, I question. As I say, you have pride, but your pride means show off what you have done.  This is not something we do.  We do not talk about ourselves. We do not show off what we have done.  We do what we do quiet as we can, we leave as soon as we can.  If that means others take credit, that is what happens.  Madrecita, she has shown dedication.  You ... you do not show that, but I think you may have it."

Sitting back - though still upright - in his chair, he braced his hands against the table's edge.   "So.  Initiate, travel the world, meet dangerous threats, kill them. Keep quiet. Questions?"