After a bit of small talk with a Dusthawk or two, Valrel finally started to say his piece. Hoekstra hung on every word, for it was in the details that he thrived; you never knew what you could learn by an inocusous phrase, or even the words that weren't said at all. The news of the Resistance wasn't news at all to the dwarven crook. Indeed, he'd done plenty of business with them and acted as a middle man for Valrel and the Dusthawks. Stone, weapons and even things as mundane as clean silk for bandages and lasting foodstuffs flowed into the Resistance safehouses, and there was good money and contacts to be made in facilitating such things. The gang had done well in these deals as well, gaining wealth, and the recruits and prestige their boss had mentioned. The admission that Valrel didn't know what to do with with such things smelled of weakness at first, but Hoekstra knew better. Adnos Valrel as a clever man, and chose his words carefully and had not gotten to where he was by showing cards he didn't want seen.

The true anouncement brough a smile to Hoekstra's scarred face. There had been a young Blood Thorn named Orten Hall, a foundling and aspiring tough lad who had a long way to go. He'd bragged too loudly about a big score he'd been allowed to help in - a trade deal with the Resistance. That conversation had been heard by the publican of the bar known as Thumb, who'd mentioned it to Hoekstra while he'd popped in to check on a last minute delivery of crockery to replace what had been broken during a brawl the night before. Hoekstra had made inquiries with the Stoneleg twins; dwarven members of the Resistance that had been introduced to their current mistresses by Caradoc at a mutual friends gathering. They'd confirmed the nature of the transaction: Spark Rifles to the Blood Talon gang. Hoekstra had immediately sold this information for a fat fee to Tamas the Snitch under the condition that Valrel of the Dusthawks was the first to learn of it, before Tamas invariably told everyone he knew for as much stone as he could gather. Shortly after, white chalk marks had begun to bear around the lower districts of Glimhallow.

The plan was what made Caradoc Hoekstra furrow his brow. It didn't seem like good business to get into a scrap with the Blood Thorns, steal their swag and then just give it up to the Resistance for no fee of any sort. Was it a power play to show Lex they were the true force in Lower Shenul? Was it part of a larger scheme that Valrel hadn't deigned to share with the majority of the gang? It was certainly possible.

The first to speak was one of the most stand-out members of the gathering. Arelia Bastian held a complicated place in the mind of Caradoc Hoekstra. He loathed her for her upbringing, envied her for her wealth and status and yearned to be in the Sky District, whereas she seemed to delight in slumming it. On top of that, he occasionally found himself competing indirectly with her endeavers as she worked the business side of gang affairs. Hoekstra listened as she and Valrel began on the start of a plan, that of getting a hold of the Spark Rifles themselves. Before adding his voice to their efforts, he had questions.

[color=0072bc]"This all seems well and good Valrel, and I'm certain Miss Bastian is up to the task,"[/color] he began, the flattery grudgingly honest. [color=0072bc]"Surely the Blood Thorn's shouldn't have these rifles. It would shift the balance too far in their favour should they use them against us or any of the other gangs. Worse, those fools might have a go at the Juggernaughts, and as soon as Spark Rifles are brought to bear on them, then the Jugs will crack down on all of us!"[/color] Hoekstra looked about his rooms, making an inclusive gesture with his hands and illiciting a few nods of agreement.

[color=0072bc]"Acquiring such goods is obviously in our best interest,"[/color] he continued in his characteristically businesslike manner. [color=0072bc]"Yet I wonder why you would turn around and simply give them back to Lex? Surely the Dusthawks could benefit from such an arsenal, or if you've no desire to have such volatile goods in your care, then at least we should sell them back to the Resistance! As a... tax, for trying to undercut the Dusthawks and push us out for the Blood Thorns of all people."[/color]

Hoekstra had moved forward through the assembled gang, and now stood before Valrel and those who'd been closest to him in the room, looking up at the man as dwarfs were forced to do, Caradoc put on a friendly enough smile on his scarred face. This wasn't the time to be undermining Valrel's authority and he'd kept his tone conversational, but nor was a stock of Spark Rifles something that should be idly given away.