Log started on Tuesday, 11 Apr 2000, 6:26 PM EST by "Greywolf2" at "Holodeck2"

The Trader's Oasis
This unassuming shop is built on the third tier of the Edgebrink Mall, a structure that looks as if some kid made a squiggly blob on an Etch-a-Sketch (yes, they still have those), and then an architect attempted to actually build it. On the interior of this irregular, angular shape are tiers of storefronts, facing into a court that is open to the sky, while the outer walls are solid and impermeable. Various outlet stores are here, though as many fronts are vacant as in use, and while it's conveniently located off the Rim Highway with ample parking, there are still problems with local crime. The Trader's Oasis is a shop much like any other, this one sporting imports from Dark Eden -- specifically, from the desert nomad tribe of the Crescentia.

This is a bit out of the way, but still within Dawn Alert's jurisdiction, just in another "sub-precinct". After a drive down the Rim Highway, and trying to find a parking space with light in the parking tower, the officers made their way into Edgebrink Mall.

It's day-cycle now. A few people can be seen going this way and that, but it's not much in the way of traffic. It's more like a business district that has been walled in and called a "mall", with no cars allowed. Horizontal conveyers are supposed to make it easier on shoppers to get from point to point, but most of the time they're in disrepair. A few entrepreneurs with go-carts offer rides for those whose feet are getting weary. Correspondingly, most of the stores tend to cluster near the parking lot, as those furthest away are going to get strangled for business. Still, there are some stubborn stores that manage to eke a living out on the far portions.

A Rottweiler-patterned dog-man in a somewhat starched-looking and stained trenchcoat, his suit a bit mismatched to his slightly chubby frame, walks down the road, glancing occasionally at other passersby. He continues an explanation to his companions, one that must have started from where they left their vehicles, "So this huge hulking fellow with strange tattoos just bursts through the side of the van along with a stash of some glowy blue chemical that he was suckin' down like beer. A shot to the chest didn't stop him; it took multiple shots to the head and a good kick from Collins before he went down. I'm telling you, it's like the stuff was turning him into some kind of rubber freak..."

"He was just oozing this kind of red and black stuff," the dog-man continues. "Anyway, once Collins got in that last blow, he just fell down and... dissolved away, like it was all that was holding him together. Really bizarre. That's one who won't be going to Ryker's. But why we're here now, that's 'cause we did a search on the van. Turned up some interesting evidence too, along with the testimony of his 'friends'."

A Devilcat with hide so blue it almost looks black follows behind the dog-man. Her clothing hangs sloppily across her squarish frame, a blue sweatshirt with a few stains around the hem, sweatpants with a tear in one knee, and a red windbreaker that looks too small for her. She doesn't react to the conversation and seems content to simply follow behind and listen. Any hint of expression in her eyes is concealed behind tinted goggles strapped firmly to her head.

A lanky man with bleached hair and green aviator goggles covering his eyes rolls up to the group on a squeaky cart with two pews running behind it -- one facing to the right, the other to the left, allowing people to sit on it sideways. "Transportation to anywhere on Edgebrink, just fifty crowns per passenger!"

Walking alongside is another fellow, distinctive only in that he's the only human ambling along in the small group. A pair of leather chaps are strapped over his faded blue jeans, and his bulky bomber jacket forms another layer of leather over a loose green t-shirt. His own pair of goggles are seated quite firmly on his forehead. As usual. "Dark, Duffy. I don't envy that run out, nope."

The dog-man glances over at the man and then waves him off, "Nah, that's okay. Walking's good exercise." He pauses a bit 'til the man seems out of earshot, then goes on. "At least one of his friends was a Templar of Gaia cultist, it seems. She was ranting about an 'apocalypse' coming up, and it seems like the blue stuff was a drug called 'Blue Heaven' that the Gaians use in emergencies-- it's fatal, but if they're going to die for a good cause anyway..." He shakes his head and frowns. "It's also illegal on Luna, so there must be a ring smuggling the stuff up from Earth, or else they're making it somehow."

As the officers walk along, they pass a store called "Lancers". It seems to be laden with junk ... except that this is not junk of the used variety, but rather junk of the "gag gifts and gimmicks and stuff you dearly hope nobody gets you for High Holy Day" variety. A few lava lamps and masks are on display in the front window, and some blaring music can be heard inside.

The feral cat glances at the store window and lightly taps it with a claw as she walks past, shaking her head.

"Huh." Jimbo shakes his head. "Whew ... so what're we at the mall for? They operating out of a shop here?" He looks sidelong at the shop they pass, noting with interest the lava lamps and making a note to stop by here again sometime.

"So we're going to talk to a few of the locals, see if they have anything to say about this cult or the drug movements-- huh, what's that?" Duffy glances at the window and then to Ice curiously.

"Nothing," Ice replies, shrugging absently.

The dog-man rubs his chin. "Anyway, keep your eyes out. Edgebrink's a quiet precinct, but if I were a crook, I wouldn't mess in my own neighborhood. And cultists always get a bit defensive when you ask 'em why they don't tell the Brotherhood what they know and let the Brotherhood handle it like they're supposed to. Anyway, first up is a 'Farad Ajribah', Crescentian. He runs a handicrafts store: urns, rugs, that sort of thing."

"You'n the others know the case better than I do, so I'll just try to take stuff as it comes," replies Jimbo, nodding and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'm here to back you up but hey... how messy could stuff get at a mall?"

Some time later, the group arrives at the Trader's Oasis, as indicated by a hand-painted sign that has the name written in bold letters in English, superimposed upon lighter-colored symbols that might represent the same name in another language. The windows are barred, and the interior is lit by skylights and lanterns. Most of the electricity is out in this farflung part of the oversized, district-sized mall complex.

Duffy pushes the door open and leans into the shop, glancing about and taking a deep breath.

A robed man with deeply tanned skin -- and jeans and tennis shoes visible under the hem of his robes -- clasps his hands together, bowing as the Dog-Man enters. A set of chimes jangle as the door is opened. "Welcome, welcome to my humble store! Is there anything you may be looking for?"

The store appears to be empty, save for those who enter now. Must be a slow day.

About the store are colorful rugs that hang on the walls like tapestries, and lie upon raised sections of the floor, along with throw pillows, short tables, and urns and pottery of Dark Eden origins. Also hanging on the walls are curved scimitars, and ivory carvings fashioned from enormous tusks.

Duffy pushes the door open fully and walks into the shop, glancing at the trinkets such as the hand-carved mammoth horns. His nose flares a bit at the distinctive scents of incense and perfume. "Ah, Mr. Ajribah?" he says cheerfully. "Yes, I'm looking for some rather difficult to find things. I understood that you might be able to help me." His glance flickers toward the window to see if they're being observed.

Tapestries show fanciful creatures, and jewelry is on display behind glassed cases near the cash register.

Jimbo follows after Duffy, then meanders a bit as Duffy is greeted, fingering rugs and goods as though shopping around. Every so often, he raises his eyebrows and mutters, "Mm," as he finds things that might look good on the couch or in a corner of the apartment.

There is also a hint of perfume, and a number of casks and vials in another glassed-in case might be the source of these scents.

Ice pushes her way through the door and wanders over to examine the ivory carvings, stroking a finger across one of her own tusks as though comparing the two.

Farad clasps his hands together and bows. "Of course! Of course! If you are unable to find what you are looking for in this store, then your humble servant, Farad Ajribah, may be able to find it for you, during one of his many forays to the jewel in the Lunar sky -- Dark Eden."

The ivory carvings are made from tusks much larger than Ice's own ... ranging from the size of Ice's arm to standing as tall as Duffy. It would take some effort for the purchaser to move these, and Farad certainly need not worry much about shoplifters swiping one of these off the wall.

Duffy tries to catch Ice's glance, then looks pointedly over to the window before returning his gaze to Farad. "Ah, you travel frequently to Dark Eden then, Mr. Ajribah? I've heard it can be very dangerous." His eyes go shadowed as he walks to a position such that his trenchcoat blocks the view of his hands from the window.

Jimbo whistles to himself, looking up from some pottery he's been examining. He starts to comment on the "jewel in the sky", but stops so as not to interrupt Duffy.

Farad spreads his hands, saying, "Ah, yes, it is a hazardous journey, which is the primary reason for the expense of the baubles you see within my humble shop. Your humble servant goes through many trials and dangers to find only the best merchandise for his esteemed customers!"

The dog-man nods agreeably. "Yes, it's that expertise I'm curious about. Here, let me show you something..." He glances over toward Ice in case she's seen something out of the ordinary, then pulls out his badge and opens it, his body an easy view of his hand from the window. "I'm Detective Sherman Duff, with Dawn Alert. I just want to ask you a few questions about some things, if you have time."

Ice's gaze tilts towards the front counter and back to the store entrance.

Farad's eyebrows raise a notch, and he looks past Duffy at the others with him, then readjusts his smile. "Ah! Certainly. Anything to help the honored keepers of the peace. How may I assist you, Detective?"

It appears that it's still quiet outside. Not too much activity this far into the mall complex, up on the third level.

Duffy puts the badge away and then nods toward Jimbo. "Officer Watterson, and the lovely lady behind us is a patrolman as well, so you needn't fret." He takes out a pouch from his trenchcoat. "This is from Dark Eden, Mr. Ajribah. Anything you can tell me about it?"

Farad ponders the pouch. "Hmmm... Here, can you bring it over to my work-table?" He gestures to a small room behind the counter, sectioned off by a hanging bead curtain, though enough light comes from the skylight that a table can be seen there, and some scattered pieces of baubles and broken pottery (and a tube of Super-Adhesive) on the table.

Jimbo's brow knits, and he looks vaguely discomfited for a moment, but the expression is soon replaced with a shrug and a nod.

Duffy follows Farad curiously.

Farad leads Jimbo and Duffy into the back room, which still affords a good view of the main room, and only a modicum of any sort of privacy. Farad pulls about what looks like a magnifying glass on a mechanical "arm" mounted to his work-table, and pushes it down toward the pouch, gazing through it at the item. "Hmmm," he says, nodding. "Yes, yes, your humble servant believes that this is from the islands of the faceless ones. A trinket ... a talisman. See? It is made from the hides of horses, and the horses are of great significance to the faceless ones. They are magnificent creatures from a bygone era, even more magnificent than those that the people known as 'Bauhaus' have on their planet of Venus, your humble servant dares suggest ... hoping greatly that none of you are of Bauhaus and might take offense, kindly ones?"

Jimbo holds his hands up. "I'm an open-minded kinda guy."

"Faceless ones?" Duffy muses. "Oh, no. I'm Capitol born and raised on Mars."

Ice picks up a vial and sniffs at it, but an earflick betrays the fact that she's listening.

Farad nods. "Ah! Mars! Yes, the Great Rust Desert ... much like the shifting sands of the homeland of the Crescentia. Perhaps we have much in common, yes, kind sir? Ah, but as for the faceless ones, I refer to the three Kinfolk of the Lutheran Triad, who live on the islands."

"Oh! The Lutherans-- I guess they're sort of faceless," Duffy says with a chuckle. He rubs his chin. "So... The pouch belonged to or was made by them? The punks we found it with didn't look like Lutherans. Anything else you can tell me about it? Sacred relic, tribesman never lets it out of his grasp, or is it just a handy bag for carrying ashes and stuff?"

Farad nods. "Please be forgiving your humble servant for being unfamiliar with the ways of the Lutheran Triad, but I would guess that it is some sort of good-luck talisman, or perhaps meant to ward off the Darkness. It has no symbols or runes upon it, and it seems to be fairly simply made. Your servant is quite certain, however, that it came from Dark Eden."

Duffy huhs. He looks over to Jimbo in case the other officer might want to ask something.

Jimbo's face is even blanker than usual, and he scratches his head a bit.

Farad suddenly breaks into a smile. "Ah! Good sir, have you a problem with head-lice or dandruff? I have many fine ointments which will cure any ailment of the scalp! Let me show you!"

"Okay, so these Lutherans, how do they tie in with the Templars of Gaia? Seems like the punks we got this from were a bunch of..." Duffy pauses, realizing that Farad might or might not have Gaian sympathies, and watches Mr. Ajribah for reactions.

Jimbo looks momentarily confused, then shakes his head. "Er ... uh ... no, just mulling things over, thanks. Though... do you have anything for windburn? My bike helmet doesn't have a faceplate... well, nevermind. Maybe later."

Jimbo says, "This cant on Lutherans is beyond me. I don't know a lot about Dark Eden, though I'm kind of surprised that anyone who'd be as far past the limit as Duffy's whacko from the other night is really all that concerned about warding off the Dark."

Farad looks as if he's about to say something to Duffy, but he leaps upon Jimbo's query. "Oh, I have many balms for the treatment of the skin!" He hops up and heads through the bead curtain, causing them to rattle in his wake, and he pops open a cabinet, pulling out several vials and casks, looking at the labels, and setting them back in turn. "Aha! Balm of the Caress of Soft Silk! It will do wonders for you, let me assure you, whether you are driving down the streets of this great city, or braving a sandstorm on your humble servant's homeworld."

It seems to be the dog-man's turn to scratch behind his ears as he watches Farad's vigorous sales pitch.

Ice arches an eyebrow curiously, setting down the bottle she was sniffing at and absently licking at the palm of her hand.

Farad pops the cork, then pats some of the cream in one hand, and, in the middle of his chattering monologue of the virtues of this cream and the mind-numbingly difficult processes required to create it ... starts smearing it on Jimbo's cheeks! "Does that not feel like the loving caress of silk, or, no, the coolness of the water of a desert oasis?"

"Um, we were-- uh--" Duffy looks a bit nonplussed. He narrows his gaze at the bottles, then takes advantage of Farad's distraction with Jimbo to lean over and carefully snuffle at the unguents.

"Upf! Uh ... that's nice, thanks, but ... maybe later. We've kind of got business." Jimbo gently tries to push back on the man's arms, and wipe at his face with a sleeve at the same time.

The dog-man apparently didn't come up with anything to say about the drugs as he resumes his place next to Jimbo. "Yeah, Jay, is it you?" he teases.

Jimbo sniffs at his jacket sleeve. "Well, it smells tasty, at least. I kind of hope it doesn't stain."

Farad bows apologetically, stoppers the bottle, and puts it back on the shelf.

"Grease," the devilcat grunts.

"Anyway, that brings me to another subject," Duffy says. He clears his throat for Farad's attention. "You know of some kind of drug... Glows blue, smells kinda fishy? It's from Dark Eden."

"A glowing blue drug? Your humble servant does not understand?" Farad says, his brow furrowing. "Do you mean, light blue, as in the shade of the skies before the time of the Great Disasters befalling Dark Eden?"

Jimbo touches his face a few times, pondering the cream's uses for shaving, but returns his attention to the conversation at hand. "I think he means, as in producing light."

"I, er, guess. It's hard to describe, but yeah, it glows," Duffy says. "I've heard it called Blue Heaven."

Farad makes a hissing noise at the name, and snaps his finger to his mouth. "Shh! Shh shh shh!" He waves his hands around, and ducks his head, then whispers loudly, "Please pardon your humble servant, but that is not something to speak of loudly about these places! It is a thing of great evil!"

The dog-man blinks. "I, er, guess you've heard of it. Yeah. That's a good way to describe it."

Ice circles around to the front of the store, looking out the window and studying the street.

Farad, still stooped over, though it really doesn't do much to prevent his voice from carrying to Ice's ears, hisses, "It is a thing of the Templars of Gaia. Your humble servant has not known of this until very recently, when he was asked if such a thing could be obtained. But your servant travels to the lands of Crescentia, not to the Templars of Gaia ... for the Templars would slit your humble servant's throat for daring to seek trade with them. They are a very proud and fierce people, and believe themselves superior to all others."

Duffy rubs his chin. "And who asked you about it?"

Farad places his hands together, drumming his fingers, then says, "A man of the Templars of Gaia himself, though wise to the ways of Luna. It would seem that he was unable to make contact with his brethren back on Dark Eden ... or unwilling to. Of all peoples, he should have known that your humble servant would not be able to perform such a task, but he was very insistent. Your servant was unable to comply, not only by lack of ability, but by his great desire not to come into conflict with the laws of this wonderful city which gives him a place to sell his wares."

Jimbo says, "Did the man threaten you in any way?"

Farad says, "Ah, he suggested that he might be able to remove my fingers and turn them into a necklace that he would then sell to me to offer as part of my wares, but other than that, he suggested no bodily harm for my lack of compliance." He wiggles his fingers, showing that they are still intact.

"Sounds like an unpleasant individual," Duffy comments. "Can you describe him? Did he leave behind anything like, say, a business card?"

"His skin was wholly covered with tattoos in wild patterns, and he had symbols etched onto his eyes, and he had filed down his claws so that they might pass for badly manicured nails, but your servant still was able to determine that he was indeed one of the 'Chosen of Gaia' from the purplish pallor of his skin, and the faintly bluish cast to his eyes. In any poorer light, however, your servant would have had no idea," the merchant offers.

The Devilcat glances over her shoulder and rubs at the lenses of her goggles.

The dog-man looks bemused at the last statement. "Ah-- well, it shouldn't be too hard to identify him then, Mr. Ajribah. We appreciate your candor and helpfulness." He looks over at Jimbo again for any follow-up questions.

The merchant offers, "Oh! Yes, and your most humble servant has the finest sand from the home of the Crescentia. Never finer would your feline friend find for his litter box!"

Ice strokes her chin with her wrist; her bobbed tail flicks anxiously. "No."

Jimbo shakes his head at Duffy. "That should be enough to go on. Unless Farad happens to know where this guy hangs out."

"Yeah... Yeah, anything else you can tell us, Mr. Ajribah?" Duffy inquires.

Farad drums his fingers on his chin, then says, "He showed some interest in the swords and knives, but did not make any purchases. Other than that, your humble servant can think of nothing more, honorable detective."

Duffy nods, "Hmm. Well, thank you very much for your time, Mr. Ajribah. You've been very helpful. And, hmm, if you have something for bruises?" Duffy inquires. "I'd like an ointment for that."

"You might want to give him your office number, Duffy, just in case this guy comes back," suggests Jimmy.

The dog-man nods to Jimbo. "Good idea, Jay." He scribbles the number onto a piece of paper for Farad.

Farad takes the paper and then clasps his hands together. "Ah! Yes, I have just the thing -- some powders that will hide the discoloration of your skin, to hide any bruises..." He pays no heed to the fact that Duffy hasn't much in the way of bare skin to cover up...

"Well, I was thinking pain relief and faster healing..." Duffy's voice trails off as he follows Farad.

GM Note: No Hero Point awards for this log. Continued in next log.

Log stopped on Tuesday, 11 Apr 2000, 9:57 PM EST by "Greywolf2" at "Holodeck2"