The House of Heron

[Corwin]

"Anything in particular?" he asks her, sticking to English.

[Carthrat]

"That one's affiliations aren't known," she replies, distastefully sticking to Chinese. "He's been trained by Choristers, as well as Ecstatics. Our seperate.. traditions aren't the best of friends.

I'm not saying he's an enemy, or that you should trap your room. Just keep an eye out."

She chuckles humourlessly. "Consider it an assignment to get his measure."

[Corwin]

"May all my troubles be like that," he responds, echoing her chuckle. "Thanks for the help, Granny. I'll try to thwart Armageddon and all that."

[Carthrat]

"We're all doomed," she remarks, chuckling harshly before continuing. "It's probably just some gradiose name... but, if it was in Heron's keeping-" did you even tell her you found it there? "-then it is of some importance.

Good luck, m'boy."

[Corwin]

"Thanks again," he tells her. "Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Raven turns to look at Liron. "She'll try to find out more, but it's not looking too good. We'll also get help in Austin, but it might be best to check around town for those punks, first."

[Brian]

"Punks," Liron says distantly.  "Punks like music.  Music plays in clubs.  There, my contacts may actually do us some good.  I am certain that given time I can locate them ... but I do not know how much time we have."

Liron considers this.  "If they are local, they may already be known," he decides with a nod.  "I shall investigate.  I think Samuel lives nearby; he knows much of the local music scene."

[Corwin]

"Sounds like a plan," Raven agrees. "Let's give it an hour and some, and see about stopping the clock if we don't have anything by then."

[Carthrat]

"Sam", as he prefers to be called, lives in one of the many trailers about Roosevelt, a musician who has seen some better days. Liron doesn't really know him personally very well, but he's a friend-of-a-friend, which can go a long way (especially amongst aspirants who want to put together a band).

"Howdy, friend," he says, when he opens the door for Liron, country-western playing from a scratchy radio back in the vehicle. "'s Liron, right? Someone said you might be coming."

OOC: This sort of contact scheme work out for you, Brian? Catch and stab me if you wanted something else. =p

[Brian]

(OOC: Should be fine. :D)

Liron nods, offering a wry grin.  "That's right," he says, nodding.  "I hear there's quite a scene going on around here."  Not waiting for a response, he quickly adds, "I've heard that there's call for punk music; you know the type.  Kids with spiked hair, too much metal, carrying ahnks?  It's not usually my own scene, but I thought I'd give it a try since everyone can use a drummer.  Know anything about it?"

Liron tries his most winning smile.

(Charisma + Subtrefuge to get the info from Sam without giving out his real reasons; specialization in Friendly Smile if applicable: Roll 1: 2, 8, 7, 8, 8, 2)

[Carthrat]

"Oh yeah," replies Samuel, shrugging. "Don't know about playing that stuff around here, though bunch of jocks like the ones you mentioned showed up in the past while. Made a lot of noise around them bars, too. didn't like the old styles, y'know?"

[Brian]

"Yeah?" Liron asks, feigning surprise.  "Well, that's something, then.  I prefer the classics, but work's work, and it's better to have a wide portfolio, like they say.  So where would this have been?"

[Carthrat]

"Down at the bar," replies Samuel. "One off the main road down the town, can't really miss it."

He frowns. "Bad talk about town started with those folks coming around, too. Ain't usual to get strangers like that around here."

[Brian]

Liron frowns, glancing over his shoulder at Raven.  "Maybe not a good scene.  Maybe better to avoid it."  Shaking his head he says, "I gotta think about that.  Still, it was nice seeing you, Sam.  I need to find work somewhere -- any idea where might be better?"

Liron attempts to lead the conversation into small-talk for a minute, then apologizes and makes to part company, ready to investigate the bar in question.

[Carthrat]

It's getting kind of late, around 7:30. About half an hour after you started off the clock when you first got your hands on it.

The grungy bar seems fairly lively, a number of country types (more than a few of which are wearing cowboy hats) playing pool, kicking back a drink, and the like. The smell of tobacco and alcohol wafts about the none-too-clean building, Liron getting more than a few strange looks as he comes close..

[Brian]

Liron surveys the crowd for a minute, then whispers to Raven, "This may not be my scene.  Have any thoughts on how we should do this?"