The Chant

[*Darkrob]

The "coin" would flash slightly and then take on the mundane form of some cheap "street corner" bauble. Then he would smile warmly and remove his mask. You would see a plain looking man. You're not sure if you've seen him before or not. He's unassuming and has a face that would simply blend in with the rest of the city. Nothing unnatural about him and nothing that would stand out. The rest of those present would follow suit.

"Welcome to our family, Eagle. I don't think I have to discuss things like secrecy and privacy... those things are a given"

He takes another sip of his drink.

"Anything you wish to know?"

[*Powderhorn]

"Merely that which I already asked," she says patiently.

[*Darkrob]

"Alright then. If you're not hungry, and have no further questions, you can either relax here with us or be on your way. We're easy to get a hold of should you require anything. All I ask is that if you plan anything big, aside from the torment you're giving the Reds now, just let us know... so we can prepare."

He looks at the others

"Get the word out... Eagle flies with us now. She gets the same respect as the rest of us."

He would warmly smile and nod to her again and then go back to the idle chit-chat he was having with his allies before she arrived.

[*Powderhorn]

"Ahh... nobody answered my questions," she says delicately. "What can be done about slavery and slavers in Sigil? What can you give me on a target of a Mercykiller type that moves about perhaps in a solitary nature? And is there any moratum on anything? Things that might be seen as... distasteful."

[*Powderhorn]

The girl simply extends the coin out, eagle-side up, and says "I have come to pay my respects."

[*Midnight]

A hand reaches through the gap and snatches the coin. With an audible screeching sound the door opens and as her eyes adjust to the dark she would see a large muscle bound slaad behind the door. He is not alone there are roughly a dozen people with him ten men and two women. All of them seem to be dressed in a mish mash of leather and each has their face hidden by a harmonium full helm. It is safe to assume that they are not the helms' original owners.

"Is this the one nix wants?"

"Can't be this berks too scrawny."

"Just send 'er up to him. If she's not who he wants she'll not walk back out."

The door slams shut behind her. They seem to have reached a consensus. Its the slaad who speaks.

"Go on up girlie. The cutter you ought to be paying your respects to is upstairs."

[*Powderhorn]

She looks over the group, not terribly impressed, but not showing it either. She had already earned her place, and she had lain awake many of the past nights, new ideas, makings of plots, initial strands of new ways to further the cause. Death was a powerful tool, but it would wear dull without new spices. Still, the tree of liberty must wetted with the blood of tyrants. Even then, there were other, less lethal notions dancing in her mind's eye as well.

All this was never so much formed as a thought, but rather lurking somewhere below the conscience. She made her way above, and waited admittance.

[*Midnight]

She heads up the stairs and through another doorway. She comes out into a smaller room the atmosphere is more relaxed. People sit around the room on pillows on the floor they seem to be in the middle of a meal. All wear masks there is a chatter if conversation that quiets a little as she enters. Seemingly central to the conversation is a man in simple black leather armour and a dark mask covering his eyes. Where he sits the shadows seem to blur around him and calm patient eyes gaze out at her from behind the mask. Its hard to tell what to expect from a senior anarchist but the man is neither big nor impressive. From his calm confident manner though one would assume he does not feel the need to impress anyone.

[*Powderhorn]

The Eagle looked about the room, quickly taking it all in. She wasn't keen on being seen without seeing, as it put her at a disadvantage, something which seemed a little unfair. Still, it was rather late now.

She stood just inside the entrance and said simply, "I am she"

[*Darkrob]

She would be greeted with a calm smile and an inviting motion to one of the pillows.

“Well then… please join us”.

A bowl containing a mixture of rice, vegetables and meat (taken directly from the dishes on the small, low, table in the center of the pillows) would be placed in front of the pillow he now offered her.

“You needn’t be alarmed or worried. You are amongst friends here”.