The First Mission - (Chapter 1)

[Nolan Randall]

Tottering slowly the old man follows among the younger boys.  "Maybe we will get some news in the tavern."

When they are out of earshot of the guards, he whispers "Look alive, those were definitely mind controlled. I don't wanna face one of you three mind slaved." And to Khayman "Nor you."

[MSgt Khayman Tamaroa]

No worries about that, the Master Sergeant quipped, after dealing with these three for the better part of a decade, my mind is pretty much fried. He shifted his weight slightly as though he were fighting a limp, nothing left to be controlled. 

[Marcus Brand]

Marcus tried to keep a normal expression after that exchange. It was clear these people were being controlled. After they got a few yards away from the gate, Marcus just raised an eyebrow as LT mentioned them staying on their toes and nodded. "Whatever was done here is unnerving to say the least."

[DM Spiral]

---Everyone---

The town not being overly large, made it pretty easy to find the Tavern.  Within a few minutes of walking everyone as standing outside a fairly large building with an old retro neon sign reading 'Jolie's'.

[Nolan Randall]

Nolan looks over the group, thinking who is least likely to be circumspect about their intentions.

"Once we are inside, Viego you mind the door, we don't want any surprise visitors without so much as a heads up. Don't cause a fight mind you, just let us know if someone new enters."

[Viego]

Viego nods, and then realizing he should probably give a verbal he understands. Says "Sure thing."  He wasn't sure what he was feeling. Was it nerves? What it excitement? Was it fear? But he felt very odd and was ready to get to some action.

[Marcus Brand]

Marcus walks in and tries to take in as much as he can of the scene. Hopefully this thing would show itself without them having to put too many civilians in harms way.  He wasn't worried about the impending fight, it was the potential collateral damage that was giving him mild anxiety.  He looks back at the others, "Beers?" 

To him drinking beer was essentially drinking purified water with a slight flavor but it helped keep up appearances.

[Aaron Brand]

Beers. Aaron responded in the affirmative. Right now their plan was in the "wait and see" phase, so Aaron acted like he would during any normal off-duty visit to town, though of course he kept his eyes and ears peeled. 

Nolan's last comment about mind control got him curious about how combat-effective a group of possessed humans could actually be. They had numbers on their side but that was about it. It was doubtful that most of the townsfolk had combat training of any sort. Unless mind control could somehow impart combat training to its victim and make them work as a cohesive unit (which it possibly could. Aaron was no expert on the subject), they were as likely to shoot their neighbors' limbs off through a wall in the crossfire as they were to hit an actual target. In either case it was all the more reason to tread carefully and keep civilian casualties to a minimum.

[Nolan Randall]

"Ah yes, I am parched after that walk. A beer would be wonderful. Where ya fellas wanna sit, bar or table?"

As he says this the older looking Nolan looks around the tavern as if he was near sighted, allowing him to literally stare at things without it being suspicious, or so he hoped.

He is trying to get a headcount of the tavern's occupants, and see what they are doing. He rather doubts mind controlled slaves woyuld be actively doing activitioes like playing pool or darts et cetera.

Insight [1d20+8]=8+8=16

[MSgt Khayman Tamaroa]

In leu of anything better, a beer will be fine. Khayman grumbled, as he stopped to look about the tavern, looking for a good place to sit. He didn't bother with the inconspicuous glance, he was a big guy after all and couldn't really hide that fact, so instead he just looked for a suitable place to plant his ass for the time being.