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  1. Word had gotten out about a low class criminal whom had escaped from Last Chance's prison. Some speculated that it was a side effect of the criminal overlord "Dredge's" infamous attack on the city of Last Chance and its prisons, severely compromising the structural integrity of the place. Whatever the reason was, when Addison paid Last Chance a visit with her disciple, Lance, she couldn't help but feel compelled to involve herself. While a dangerous man was on the lose, peoples' livelihoods were at risk. It was the duty of any knight to take on said threats, and put them back in containment where they belonged. And so she and Lance obtained a warrant of arrest, acquiring whatever information they could about the perpetrator, and proceeded straight to the prison to analyse the means of escape. When they reached the prison, the means of escape became clear. Inside the escapee's room, was a large hole in the floor, leading downward into rushing sewer water. Next to it, were the shattered remains of a toilet bowl. A sharp rock was placed and isolated on the table and surrounded with police tape. "So he jumped into the sewer," Addison remarked distastefully. "See anything interesting, Lance?" @DaiPie
  2. NOTICE! This thread is still pending the completion of War IS The Answer! and content may be subject to change before completion. February 20th, 18,598 WT... The sound of a gavel echoing through the aging hall prompted the murmur of the attendance to grow quiet, as the representative of the Norkotia City Sheriff's Department took a step forward and called-out so all could hear. "Mr. Tynes, please take the stand! Mr. Tynes to the stand!" Still scarred and bruised from his near-fatal encounter with traitorous mercenaries in Forsthaven, Joseph Tynes rose to his feet and stepped up to the desk and microphone that had been prepared for his hearing before the Norkotian Council. His hazel eyes, seemingly a shade darker than they once were, glared at the councilmembers seated across from him. His eyes swept from one end of the line to the other, at each of the dozen or so representatives that had been selected by the council to question him. "Mr. Tynes, please be seated," the deputy urged. Tynes's eyes shifted to the man, before he nodded ever-so-slightly and took his seat. His gaze didn't linger on the deputy for long, as even as the man began the process of swearing him in, the reigning Grand Executor of Norkotia turned his attention back to the councilmen and women on the other side of the divide. At one time, the council would have done whatever he demanded, because they had either been brought into power in the same wave as him, or because they were smart enough to know not to defy the will of the people. Unfortunately, the will of the people had changed, and so too had the disposition of the council. "Councilor Getz, you may begin," the deputy nodded to the first of the councilmembers. "Mister Tynes--" Getz began. "Executor Tynes," came an indignant interruption, "Until I see evidence to the contrary, I am still the Grand Executor of Norkotia, and expect to addressed by my rightful title the same as any member of the council." Getz's eye twitched, the freshmen councilmember immediately bristling at Tynes's defiance. "Very well, Executor Tynes..." Getz raised his nose at the other man, "Until then."
  3. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock's hand continued to move in the silence of the interrogating room. It's soft clicks thundering in comparison. Even a heart beat, one so quiet it could barely be heard by pressing an ear to the chest, could be heart to beat just under where the clock was embedded in the solid stone wall. On one side of the table was Detective Alexander Hawk.Despite having the the rank of Captain, he'd chosen to remain more or less in the field. As one of the higher ranked officers in the Federal Investigative Service of Terrenus, there weren't many that could tell him otherwise anyways. He sat calm and patient, in no rush. His pay was yearly and resulted in a pension. More time the woman in front of him wasted, more money he was making doing nothing. Win-win. Well, except for her. Gabriela Duvich. Senior analyst for one some tech company; Meroch Incorporated. Ever since a few weeks ago, Hawk had been chasing the dropping of seemingly random bodies through Last Chance. Duvich, on the other hand, had climbed the ladder of Last Chance tech quite nicely, jumping from corporation to corporation. He hadn't put it together as quickly as he could have since Duvich didn't murder the person whose job she wanted, but someone that then allowed the target to be promoted. Fairly clever. Through him off her tracks for a while there. The question had been how she'd managed to over power those people. Barely over five foot and scrawny as all hell, Hawk sometimes found himself wondering how she managed to lift anything moderately heavy. The answer came when she'd punched him in the face with the power to shatter the bones in his nose. Thank Gaia for healing magic. Breaking the silence after figuring he'd let her stir long enough, Hawk asked, "You're done Gabriela. We have enough evidence to put you away from an elf's life span, much less that of a human like yourself." She just glared at him. Silent. "Where did you get your strength from? No way it's natural, but there's no magic residue on your nor magi-tech enhancements." Finally, doing something besides being a pain in his ass, the girl laughed. "It's my own strength. Mine! She simply allowed me to unleash it." "Oh," Hawk said, sighing. He stood from his chair without looking at her again. No point. He already knew. She allowed me to unleash it. Some variation of those words came up more and more frequently these days. His contacts in the ambassadors department further confirmed it was happening in the other continents as well. The extent was unknown, but definitely more than null. "You done with her already?" Jared asked. Good kid. New to FIST and had already jumped from Private to Corporal. "Yeah. Fucking Paragons," he grumbled, slapping the filed down on Jared's desk. "Finish up the report. I've got a meeting." The young detective nodded and quickly buried his nose in the folder, not asking anymore. If Hawk had wanted him to know, he would have told him. As he reached the door to his office, Hawk checked his watch. 3:08 pm. Those two should be arriving any minute. He sat behind his desk, much larger now that he'd been promoted to Captain, and opened the intel file. Sergeant Emile Gareau. Sniper. Elite. Well trained. Decant Camuel. Ranger. New. Had a quick stint as an ambassador before transferring departments. His military doc suggested he has more potential in the field than in parties. Interesting. Hawk flipped the page. Doctor Andrea Maria Hart. Chemist. Surgeon. Basically an M.D. savant. And, now, it looks like she could add Whistle blower to her list of accomplishments. Certainly less fun than the former. Although she'd been delivered safely to the Public Defenders Office, she had refused to speak until brought somewhere to people with more influence. Meeting with her the day before had certainly been enlightening, if not an even more pain in his ass than the Paragons. Goddamn Argus and their CDF. It honestly sounded more like a problem for local law enforcement, but Dr. Hart's testimony alleged interstate activities which, of course, dragged Hawk into the deal as a federal agent. Not to mention that if her testimony was true, then leaving it up to law enforcement would be basically leaving it up to the CDF. He silently put that on his to-do list. His very, very, very long to do list. Before he could review more of the information, the two officers entered. @supernal @danzilla3 @Zashiii
  4. “That Legion of Doom attack and current state of this city sure guarantees job security right Jeff?” “Well a steady paycheck sure helps me pay my debts from all my former…uh…escapades.” “When will you find the right gal there Jeff?” “Someday there pal…that special…” Jeff then saw her. A beauty who had no business entering this unsavory establishment full of men who had finished a long day of work and would like nothing else then to let off some steam with the broad of their choice. Jeff, however, knew this lady was no ordinary broad. This beauty he laid eyes on seemed otherworldly, gracing him with her presence in a fated moment he just had to seize for his own. “Excuse me…she may just be the one.” Delphinia Morozova, one of the newest members within Toxicant, took a seat at the bar of the Curled Fang. The sheen of her black hair stood out along with the brightness of her blue eyes that glazed over all of the patrons. Jeff was beside himself then, unaware he was staring at the woman so blatantly as his thoughts raced through several scenarios concerning his approach. This exotic beauty was nothing like the Norkotian women and after his many escapades that was a welcome difference that brightened his stint here in Last Chance working for the BlackBlood Industries as a Corporal within the Corporate Security wing. What Jeff thought he needed was to branch out of his roots and try his hand at poaching this magnificent beauty that sat only a few feet away from him. “Alright, Jeff. This is your moment.” A long breath helped him settle himself in before he made his move. “I will front the beautiful lady’s tab.” “You sure? I have quite the expensive taste.” “Well..uh…” Jeff took a seat beside her then. “Spending some time with someone so gorgeous should be worth it.” “I suppose I can repay such kindness and flattery with some of my time.” Jeff smirked as he considered that a success and then casually looked at his friend who briefly rolled his eyes but offered a secretive thumbs up while he drank. Delphinia received her drink, a rather hard liquor called the Burning Sting, and took a small sip. Her face scrunched up a bit as she pretended that the drink’s strength caught her off guard. “So what brings you to Last Chance?” “Oh just here for work.” “Work? What do you do?” “I am a talent recruiter. Here to find the right person for a role.” Jeff didn’t really care about that but the ‘rulebook’ states that casual talk like this is necessary before one can deliver the real offer. “Sounds interesting. Can I help?” Delphinia looks at him smiles while she offers a contemplative look as if considering this. “I don’t know.” Jeff could feel his chance slipping. “I’ve worked in this city for a few months now and feel I can be a good resource.” “Oh? Well how fortunate that we’ve met…what is your name?” “Jeff Altman.” “Carrie Shepard. Pleasure. This place is a bit too loud for my liking. Know of a place that is quieter?” This was it…this was Jeff’s chance to be bold. “My apartment?” He tried to sound less eager than he was to offer his own home by formulating his response as a question. Delphinia took a large swig of her drink to enjoy the burn before she started to speak again. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing but living dangerously might be fun in this city and you seem…nice enough. You’re not some sort of body snatcher or other murderous type right?” Jeff chuckled. “Oh no. Clean, upright male right here. You can investigate all you want before we get there if you like.” Jeff’s confidence gradually increased as he felt things going his way tonight. Delphinia offered a much practiced chuckle that has proven to make her seem adorable to simpletons. “Ok. Lead the way Jeff…” Jeff turned over to his friend and winked before pivoting and exiting the Curled Fang, ready to have himself an eventful night. Pity that he did not know that none of it would be anything he expected.
  5. Emergency broadcast KX-end-of-the-world scenario in progress Valucrean containment foundation This message will now be repeated. . . This is OS-01 of the Valucrean Containment Foundation. We... I, have unleashed pandora's box. I hope one day, whatever gods are out there, may show mercy to my soul. The navy has lost nearly half of it's fleet, the air force fell today. There is no hope of stopping this threat. I only can give a way out for those wanting to escape. I arrived from the vortex at the center of this world. If I arrived from that vortex, there may be a chance that we can escape the same way. We have made 3 arks, to carry anyone and anything. It's our last chance at an exodus. Head to the northern tip of alterion within 78 hours, I'm not sure how long we can hold out anymore. Time is of the essence, this is our last hope of survival. Hurry, plea-... . . . This message will now be repeated. . . "-s Doctor Brett, is anyone there? This is Doctor Brett. I am a researcher from the VCF, god someone please be out there. [Large footsteps in the distance] It's already clear, we already lost, but it may not be the end of all hope. I know it's insane, but we have to get to the place where this all started. Site-800, where we opened pandora's box. There is a way to prevent this from happening, to prevent ALL of this from happening. I have this with me, CS-0078, in site-909. This entire site was to protect the existence of this disk, because this object alone may prove pivotal in changing timelines. I propose we use it now. [Large footsteps in the distance] It can't send us back. As far as I'm concerned, I and whoever is hearing this message is as good as dead, but we can prevent this timeline, this present, from ever existing. If we capture pandora's box, we can send it back in time with a warning. This is our last shot. We will cease to exist, but our past selves won't have to die in this hell. We will have a future. I only have 5 men from Beta-04, it's not enough. Site-800 is 100 kilometres away, we have to- [Large footsteps in the distance] If you hear this, I'm in Last Chance. The site 909 entrance is in the black market, pyre's stall for pyrotechnics. Find the trapdoor leading down, the code to the lock is 2309. Hide under the shade and in the walls. There is 1 titan in the town centre, 16 meters tall. You can't outrun it, so be as quiet as you can. If it sees you, pray your death will be quick. I'll have this message repeat, hurry." [Radio static]
  6. The line outside the offices of the Civil Defense Force had started out small, but grown exponentially as the opening hour approached. Fear had driven people from all strata of society to que up for one of the free inoculations being offered by the CDF. None of them seemed to question the motives for the program. Why would they? The CDF were a trusted part of daily life in the city. If they were offering shots, it must be on the up and up. No need to question it further. Right? Private Emile Gareau was set up on the roof of a building across the street from the CDF offices; viewing the scene through the scope of his rifle. The Doctor they were here to escort had left word she would be waiting at the bus stop in front of the office. Now it was just up to Robicheaux to make contact. @SweetCyanide
  7. Embers from a pipe lights up the man’s face, sitting alone in a corner of a large tent while a light patter of rain rolls across its faux leather roof. The door opens and a bald man peeks his head through. “Doc? They’re here.” The seated man raises his eyes to the window. Across the field, perhaps no more than a kilometer away stood the Mausoleum. A large, gothic styled building swathed in light stood alone in the outskirts of Last Chance, its purpose the complete opposite of its name. The hospital had once been a pioneer in bio-mechanical, bio-organic as well as thaumaturgical research. But since the fall of its native soil, and with high-profile, high paying patients inside at the time, the building’s warp gate activated and shifted the entire facility in its now current place of residence. This would explain the lack of reason behind its seemingly random appearance and placement onto the field like a fish out of water. With much of its technology and staff intact, it’s slowly become a destination for those unfortunately afflicted with severe illness and an overabundance of wealth. The Doc turns toward the bald man. “Good. Lead them in Greg.” Nodding, Greg steps outside to escort their visitors to the tent. He turns his back to the door and looks over the large table set in the center of the tent. A few notes, some inferred details, a perimeter map. All the intelligence gathering a bunch of hired goons and a few junkies could muster up over two weeks of staking the place out. They’ve been camped out at the edge of a thin forest surrounding the Mausoleum, observing the traffic along the only road that leads to it from the city of Last Chance. They’re very well-funded I’ll give them that. This needs to be precise. Like a scalpel cutting through only what was necessary to get to the diseased flesh, the mission must be sure and swift, cutting out only the parts that were infected. And he needed to sharpen his blades.
  8. A lone figure stands outside the city walls of the sea port known as Last Chance. They do not know its name. They do not know that this could be the beginning of a second chance. They know it is cold and that they wish to find an opening in the impossibly tall blue wall that they walk beside. If someone were to see them wandering it would be an interesting sight. The wall gleaming eerily in the moonlight as a wandering soul dressed entirely in crimson red moves along it. The red garment shrouds them from head to foot, its length nearly brushing the ground and a hood covering their face so that only shadows can be seen beneath the fabric. They walk forward and stumble, but pick themselves up again and keep moving. Finally something new comes into view along the wall. Buildings come into view, ramshackle structures held together by what little luck the people living in them have. The wanderer doesn't think about what type of people might live there, What they might do to a stranger. Their static filled mind only allows them to think of one thing right now. Light. Fire. warmth. A child sees the stranger first. A dull eyed child with an empty belly. They are not allowed near the fire keeping others warm. Upon seeing the red cloak the child's eyes sharpen and a small knife glints in the moonlight. Who knows what such a beautiful garment could buy for them, perhaps not here outside in the slums, but in the city. If only the child can take it first. The wanderer barely sees the oncoming threat, but they do and they recognize it for what it is. They pull back, but not in time to avoid the bite of dull steal. They curse in a high feminine voice and pull back again, but he child is relentless. They fall backward onto the ground with a low coiled scream as the knife strikes again. Then the child screams. High pitched and painful. Fire courses from the stranger and through the knife, up the child's arm until they pull away ablaze. The stranger turns away from the burning child and runs. Runs in the opposite direction and does not stop. They run until their legs ache and their lungs burn. The moon has vanished behind the clouds by the time they stops. No longer next to the wall, but instead out in the rolling hills surrounding the city They were skirting a mere hour before. The collapse and a low sob escapes their throat. They do not know where they are, but now they know who they are. Her name is Lozonya. She is an elf. She has no family and no friends. No place to call home. She is a wanderer and always has been. She is cursed. Lozonya pulls the red hood away from her face. Her black hair sticks to her face and neck. She wipes away the tears streaming down her bronze skinned face and takes a deep wavering breath and as the static that filled her mind fades almost completely she begins to list what she knows about herself on her fingers. She is alone. She is homeless. She is a wanderer. She is cursed. Then her lips curl up in a version of a smile. She is clever.
  9. Character - Vito Summon - Floki Tags - @supernal Background Ambience (If you so choose) - Link Quest - A Friend in The Ouread Bounty hunting, raiding and moving into the drug business have all yielded their profits. Yet Vito found himself moving so slowly towards his goals that it was unbearable, even the patient raider had his limits. He needed something more, a way to further expand his trading. Cavecrest offered an easy way to trade amongst other raiders and criminals, but it was still far too slow. After much internal debating and pacing, he'd finally made up his mind. A partner was not just wanted, but required. He'd been a hired sword on many occasions, but never worked in business with someone else. Thankfully, he was able to call in favors from Fat n Kat. The local gossipers had many ties outside of Cavecrest, thankfully sending word out to a gangleader named Caden. They even went as to give him a private room, which they'll show his potential partner to. 'Hmm, looks like my work round here has at least payed off. Can always rely on Fat to come through, even if Kats a little more stubborn.' Vito sat waiting with a tankard of rum behind the round table, his summon lay asleep in the corner. It was pretty hard to sneak Floki into the inn, but he always finds a way. He hated being without back up, the drake had quickly grown to be part of who he was. A sudden knock at the door snapped him out of thoughts.
  10. The Dawn Komturie, 6:45 A.M. The wee hours of the morning at Dawn Komturie were about as busy as any other time of day. Custodes went about their duties with due diligence as the aspirants arose for their early morning drills. Tenkai himself was busy as well, but perhaps not in his usual fashion. Normally he would be overseeing the Vanquishers and their aspirants going about their training, but something was keeping his attention that day. The warrior monk had sequestered himself in his chambers, poring over documents in a manner he had not done since his days investigating suspicious fighting tournament sponsors. He was looking through whatever OFM resource that was made available to him, sifting through registries and logbooks and chronicles, all for one single purpose: to find out what happened to Gloria Isabelle Ruinen. Gloria had been a fellow knight of the Order, but not at the time Tenkai had joined. No, Tenkai’s history with her and in many ways the Order in general went further back than even his first arrival on this star. He knew of Gloria even before her time with the Order, back when she was the prodigious pupil of the psion known as Tresondros Ecstuffuan. Tenkai had learned of her departure from the Order just as soon as he had learned she had joined them in the first place. The familiarity of her name and the many memories of a life that once was which sprung from the recognition hit Tenkai like a bolt in the chest. The past always seemed to have such unexpected ways of catching him unawares. Tenkai’s chambers at Dawn Komturie weren’t exactly what one would consider an “office”, but it did have a desk for dealing with missives and parchments and all other manner of paperwork whenever the need arose. Given certain affairs he had gotten involved with in the past, Tenkai was actually no stranger to paperwork and investigative research. Even so, there was only so much Tenkai could glean from the Order’s records, but he had to start somewhere. Thus far, he had only managed to learn one key piece of information. Gloria has been, as it was written, “excommunicated” from the Order following some incident that had deemed her a danger to the peace the Order was committed with keeping. Her impressive psychic power had caused much damage and mayhem, to the level that James could not have easily overlooked it. But why then was there so little else, not even some form of contact information? And surely there had to be more to these accounts than what was present, should there not? He had to keep digging deeper. Yet try as he might, there wasn’t very much to lead on. It would seem that after her excommunication, Gloria went completely off the grid. This was rather disappointing. Tenkai would have thought that James would have gone to greater efforts to keep tabs on her, given her level of psionic power and the fact that she was likely privy to a number of inner workings within the Order. Granted, it was not really part of their duty to spy on people, and if Gloria was really so dangerous as to warrant keeping a thumb on her then perhaps “excommunication” was not a wise choice. But if that was true, then what exactly was Tenkai doing here, trying to figure out where she might have gone? Would that not be essentially the same thing? It wasn’t like he was hunting her down like a fugitive. Could there have been another reason James had let her slip off their radar? Did he still think of her as a friend? Did Tenkai think of her as a friend? He cursed himself. This is probably one of the most foolish things I’ve ever done, he thought. Tenkai had already paid the price for seeing those that he had called “friends” as who he thought they were and not what they truly were. His missing eye and the artifact sitting in its place were an eternal reminder of that. Tenkai thought he had managed to bury his past deep enough that he wouldn’t find himself making the same mistakes he had made before. And yet, if recent events had taught him anything, it was that some things weren’t content to be little more than a memory. If he didn’t give the past it due diligence, it would end up repeating itself. And so he continued, poring through whatever information the Order had about Gloria’s last known whereabouts. While there was nothing conclusive about where she might have gone, he did learn enough through the Order’s files on certain key places of interest that he knew a good enough place to start. Last Chance, La Ultima Opportunidad Docks, 7:35 P.M. The port city of Last Chance had risen in notoriety as a place of interest in recent years. What was once a veritable prison city overrun with crime was now the second largest port city in Terrenus, with a bustling economy to boot. Despite this progress, however, the criminal underworld of the city managed to thrive in its own way, a dark reflection of the promise of opportunity that the city had come to embody. The attack on the city by Dredge and his Legion of Doom has certainly not helped matters. If anything, the attack had served to remind people of the divide in the city, caught between the the hope of progress and the stagnant mire of the past, where criminals were kings. It had been a while since Tenkai had walked the streets of Last Chance, though this was perhaps the first time he had ever walked them during a time of relative peace. That being said, it would seem he had chosen the absolute worst part of Last Chance to start his search. “La Ultima Opportunidad” was the last bastion of the old guard in the city, where the worst of the worst who refused to change their ways or leave the city stakes their claim of a rogue underworld empire. Moreover, there was also the not-so-insignificant fact that Tenkai was one of the heroes of the battle for Last Chance. Gone were the days where he fought in relative obscurity, plagued only by whatever infamy he held amongst the vampires and demons of Gaia. Now he was Tenkai Matsumoto, Knight of the Order of Force Majeure. Though his actions had aided in the defense of the city the criminal underworld called its home, they likely wouldn’t take too kindly to anyone associated with the Terrenus military, especially not when many among Dredge’s legion had been part of Last Chance’s criminal element to begin with. So why in the pluperfect hell did Tenkai think this a good place to start? For one, the city reminded him in some small ways to familiar places from his past, namely Sigil and Durem. Economy driven port city with a seedy underworld? It was like a trip down memory lane, so what better place to locate someone from his past? Gloria no doubt thrived in places like these, free from the reach of law, where your only safety was how well you could defend yourself. Having been through enough seedy taverns and inns back on Gaia that ran by the same rules, such a place would be like a taste of home. There was also the matter of criminal underworlds being useful places to find information, find work off the books, or simply find ways to disappear if you didn’t want to be found. If Gloria went off the grid, this would be a great place to be, and a psyker of her level of prowess would not have any problem dealing with any thug that made up the city’s unscrupulous ecosystem. There was always the chance that word of the OFM’s involvement with the defense of Last Chance could have given her pause in setting foot there, but if there was any chance she had been there, there would likely be someone with information. So Tenkai made his descent into Last Chance’s “La Ultima Opportunidad” district, dressed in his monk’s robes such so that he would not be so immediately recognized by those who knew him more famously in his battle garb. Of course, if Gloria did see him, she would recognize him immediately, even with his eyepatch. This didn’t bother Tenkai. After all, trying to get the drop on her would be impossible, most likely, and doing so would just be detrimental to his cause. It was better to be upfront where he could. About a half hour of wandering through the more lawless half of the city, Tenkai arrived at the docks, where he changed upon a rather peculiar site. A large, extravagant boat decked out with flashing colored lights and neon signs was moored at the docks like some sort of floating casino. Indeed, it was exactly that, as he would soon find the aptly-named “Full Horizon” to be. A glittering jewel by the boardwalk amidst the salty shadowed pier. Truth be told, Tenkai could have kicked himself for not expecting to find a place like this among these disreputable docks. After all, this part of the city was full of cuthroats and rogues, not paupers and beggars. Casinos and other gambling establishments cared little for the class of their clientele, as long as they had the coin to spend and, invariably, lose. The criminals in this town would be the wealthiest of all, like as not. Tenkai wouldn't be surprised if a few of the socialites from other parts of the city would find themselves here by nature of discretion. This cozy little slice of night life was probably the best possible place for Tenkai to start. Even if Gloria wasn't here, there was always a chance she had visited in the past. If not at this port, then perhaps at another. Without any room left for doubt, Tenkai crossed the pier ramp and passed through the doorway into the casino interior, and onto whatever he may end up finding there. @The Usual Suspect @Aleksei
  11. Information Mission Statement: "Shining the light of truth to destroy the curtain of shadows corruption cowers behind." The Public Defender is a news agency, an organization which gathers reports and sells them to other, subscribing organizations, such as newspapers, radio, and so on; their largest subscriber is the Daily Weekly. The Defender is a leading source of information for all things local to Last Chance, but has agents spread out all over Terrenus and are poised to expand into other countries. The Defender eschews traditional news categories such as sports, entertainment, and finance to focus on investigative journalism. Topics which the Defender covers include but are not limited to: serious crimes, political corruption, or corporate wrongdoing. Their methods include: interviews with on-the-record sources and anonymous sources, liaising with the Storage Movement in Ignatz for access to bot assisted legal and business research, and reviewing public records. Layout The Defender leases the first two floors in a building occupied by other news agencies. One floor is "the pit", a farm of cubicles that are transiently occupied by reporters that file in and out on a regular basis. The second floor is the "management floor", and is peopled by the Defender's upper management, which is also, for the most part, made up by some of their more daring journalists. History The Defender is a relatively new institution and so they have little in the way of clout, but the editor-in-chief of a local newspaper in Last Chance backs their credibility personally. Security The building is fully insured against flood, fire, and acts of Gaia by building management. As the building is housed by multiple news agencies and privacy is an utmost concern by the individual agencies, the building has a standard array of anti-divination wards to protect against scrying, remote-viewing, and astral projection. The Defender's chief technical officer makes it a point to offload any sensitive information to a private storage facility in an unspecified location, and to encrypt any volatile data at-rest and in-transit; this data is made up mostly of information on sources and reporters. No valuables are kept in the offices otherwise. Canon Chasing shadows: Event in which The Public Defender is established
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