[b]Roman Torchwick - Self professed Master Thief[/b]

Through the streets of town walked a dapper man, clad in a white trench coat, a black bowler hat atop his head, and a cane clicking on the sidewalk ahead of him. A cigar was perched on his lip, though he wasn't too heavily invested in it. It was nice, but it wasn't all that good compared to some of the stuff he'd had in Atlas. Now those guys knew how to make a good cigar. But he was saving the ones he had left, so this would have to do.

At the moment though Roman Torchwick, master thief, scourge of Vale, was unhappy. Undeniably so. Oh sure, this place had been interesting when he had first arrived, but he had gotten bored. There was just no excitement here, nothing interesting for him to do. Not like Vale, or Mistral, or Atlas. To say nothing of the weird collection of people that had gathered here. To be honest it creeped him out, and more than a little. 

"I really am going to have to rob somebody," he muttered to himself in annoyance. It wasn't that he needed to, by any stretch of the imagination, but at least it would be something to do in this dump.

Well, if he was going to pull a heist then he'd need some grunts, some manpower to do the hard lifting and to take the fall if this all went sideways. Sadly, useful help just wasn't that easy to find, especially when it involved criminal activities, but he would do his best. So, first stop was a bar or a club on the more skeevy side of town. That would be the place to best get what he needed, or to find people who knew where he could find it. 

At the next corner he turned, cane held tight as he headed towards his planned destination. Time to get to work.