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[b]"They knew where we were going to meet and set up an ambush, which means someone sold us in advance. Any possibility that the place we are heading now is compromised as well?”[/b]

The woman who spoke was black of hair and brown of eyes, with the tell-tale pale skin of one who had been born a member of the domain. All piercings and black leather, she had a certain dark grace to her lithe body. Zhaarus couldn't see any scars, but that didn't mean she didn't have them.

The warrior gave a light shrug "There's always the possibility that headquarters has been compromised," he admitted in his deep, gruff voice "but it bodes ill to assume as such. Approach the casino with caution, if you must, but right now its the only hope we have."

[b]“How much further to we have before we reach wherever we’re going? I’m out of ammo in my rifle and I’ve got two clips for my pistol. “Point is beastie, I’m short on ammo, being incarcerated for seven years, you don’t really get a chance to resupply. You two seemed to have collected an interesting group here.”[/b] The one with greying hair nattered. 

[i]Beastie. [/i] Did he think he was smart? Not too long ago, Zhaarus would've broken a man's jaw for such a poor attempt at mockery, but he was old and tired and he had no intention of wasting his energy on such a petty individual. 

"Maybe if you managed your ammo better you wouldn't have gotten caught in the first place." The warrior replied with a light scowl " This tunnel should lead us right out in front of the Casino, but we may have to deal with some under-dwellers first. And this isn't [b]my group[/b]...Its Captain Horrigan's. Mahrl knows what he was thinking, but he saw something useful in each of you. Do the dead a service and prove him right." 

With that Zharrus went stalking off into the darkened tunnel ahead, treading cautiously as he stepped over the rusty metal tracks. The way before them was dimly lit at the best of times, with the odd flickering light adorning a patch of wall, but usually there was simply a blanket of dark fog to greet them. Each step echoed through the tunnel, and whenever someone struck a rogue stone it seemed to bounce about and ring out for a small eternity. 


They'd been walking for about twenty minutes when the sound of voices began to seep into Zharrus' ears. He signalled for quiet almost instantly. 

[i]"You said you'd have my money, Trex."[/i]

[i]"Hey! Come on man, I just need one more surgery, then-"[/i]

[i]"Times up, deadbeat. Shank this fucker."[/i]

[i]"Fuck! No, plea-!" [/i] 

[b][color=9e0b0f]SHRRRRRRK! SQUELCH! THUD![/color][/b] 

[b]Under-dwellers[/b]. When you had nowhere else to go in Armahford, you went skittering down into an old train tunnel or a leaky sewer. If you didn't keep your wits about you, then you didn't come back out. 

Zhaarus poked his head around the corner. 

Six under-dwellers, dressed in ripped jeans and hand-me-down jackets, skulked about in a beam of garish maintenance light. A dead body lay at their feet, which one of them was rummaging over. 

Six thugs. Zhaarus signalled to the group. 

[i]"Make this swift."[/i] He whispered, giving the team a curt nod.