As if on cue, Veliky and her guests' eyes are pulled by the great sound of the entry-door's opening, and on steps through the last confidant. At last.

Turning her musket over, Veliky uses the stock to push herself off the stairs and onto her feet. The fish's arrival brings a wave of relief. The stillness is broken; making the legs, sore from standing (and the rears, ached from sitting) almost seem worth the while. Veliky steps forward, ready to finally begin-

-Only to receive an annoyed beration, spit from between Tsarra's sharpened teeth. Veliky shouldn't be so jeered, but something about the piscine glare just irks her. 'Isn't she used to this stuff? Doesn't show know how this works by now?' she wonders.

Veliky can't help but roll her eyes. "Sorry, I must've *forgotten* to talk about the details of this job in a public place. Next time, I'll remember to out us in front of everyone."

Still visibly irritated, the woman waves her minuscule hand, and the entryway-door slams closed as if by an unseen (and very disgruntled) force^[1]. The skull-adorned woman hisses like a startled cat while the older man narrows his eyes. The golden bard's reaction is more difficult to gauge, as his face is obscured by the visor of a costume-helm -- a strange accoutrement for a minstrel, all considered.

Veliky's already turned away, stepping onto those same stairs for several steps before turning to face those gathered. She's climbed just enough that she stands slightly taller than anyone here. The musket that she still holds lends her a strangely professional air, despite her otherwise casual appearance.

"Now that everyone's present, I can explain what's going on-"

"Finally!" the masked woman suddenly blurts, with a growl that sounds closer to an animal's than a man's. Still hunched like some ill-blooded unfortunate, she steps forward. A strange rattling, almost like chains, sounds from beneath her forest-green cloak, and silvery eyes gleam spitefully from the skull-mask's sockets. "Tell us why you've brought us here, runt!"

'Runt.' Veliky's never had to ask for that word's meaning; she's heard it enough to infer. She almost allows her eye to twitch, but knows that this would only please the outlander, possibly opening the door to further insults. Of course, neither can she let an insult go unchallenged.

"That's exactly what I was going to do, before you started squawking. Shut up and I'll tell you."

The cloaked woman seems utterly affronted, oily-black hair practically bristling in anger. She reaches into her cloak, as if ready to draw something. Veliky narrows her eyes... but the woman apparently decides against it, letting out a frustrated groan and stepping back to stand beside the bard who takes a few steps away from her.

"Good." Veliky says, though remains annoyed at the interruption. These three aren't even important, yet she's beginning to wonder if she chose the extras poorly. "Now, as you all know, I've brought you here for a job -- a very special, very difficult job."

With the barrel of her musket, she gestures westward, where the sea-facing loading doors stand open. Through these doors, some way down the docks, can be seen a ship^[2] of monstrous proportions. It's so grand, in fact, that it could very well have been seen on the way to this warehouse. Constructed of dark wood with a peculiar architecture, it dominates the pier. But, strangely, the symbol that's painted on its side is a familiar one; it was also seen in several places in Blixt™ Cafe.

"That ship is called the Nin Hloth. It's owned by the very same organization that runs Blixt™ Cafe. Technically, despite its looks, it's a merchant vessel, and probably the most heavily-guarded merchant vessel in Charon." She holds the musket with its stock against the ground. "And we're going to infiltrate it."

---

1. Minor Trickery
2. (Galleon) Nin Hloth

Tsarra's expression is some mix of confusion, irritation, and doubt. She gives Veliky the most unimpressed expression as she regards her with the sarcastic tone. 

"Yer the one actin' all shady an' suspicious," she huffs.

She wouldn't mention that she nearly blew their entire cover before even getting to the warehouse with how indiscrete she was while searching for the right location. It was a miracle there weren't guards swarming the place asking what was going on.

The triton eyes the other weirdos in the room. What kind of job would require such an oddball mix of folk? Did this short stack really expect her to work together with complete strangers who clearly have no real respect for her? This was looking more and more like a set up for failure, and all the warning bells are going off in the goldfish brain. Tsarra might not be book smart, or even street smart, but she does have some dumb luck and decent survival instincts. 

Peering back through the doors she entered through when Veliky gestures towards the docks, Tsarra furrows her brow upon sight of their target. 

"Are you shittin' me? That galleon is armed to the nines. I've swam past 'er a few times, even if she is just a merchant vessel she's definitely what we call a Tempting Lady."

"The fuck does that mean?" The cloaked woman asks with a note of irritation in her voice. 

Tsarra scowls at the woman. What was her deal? They're all in the same boat here. "Calm yer tits, she's a ship that looks like she's real good for plunderin' but she comes with far more trouble than the booty is worth."

The other folk gathered exchange a skeptical look at the metaphor, but despite the awkwardness of the comparison it does make some sense. If the fish came up with that herself it was kinda impressive, but it was more likely that she was just parroting the phrase from someone else with considerably more smarts than her. 

The triton then looks back at Veliky. "I don't know how the owner 'as scorned ye ta make ye want ta get revenger or whatever this is, but I'm tellin' ye this group ain't enough to take a ship like that even if it were completely vacant. We ain't got enough man power ta sail it outta 'ere and if the guards notice anything suspicious in the 'arbor yer all fucked."

"Don't you mean 'we're all fucked'?"

"Pfft, no. I ain't got no loyalty ta ye folk. I'll leave ye high and dry and escape inta the water if I ha'e ta." She shrugs. "It's nothin' personal, just business."