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[Locke Cole]

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Locke was so pleased at his information gathering skills, he nearly waltzed into the hideout to tell Dymm the news.

"Dymm!" he yelled, not seeing him anywhere in sight. The teleporter hummed and spat out some smoke that dissapated instantly, as if a ghost had just stepped upon the alchemic symbol upstairs.

Dymm appeared in his chair. "Yes, did you find something?"

Locke sat down with a grin and passed his tattered old notebook across to Dymm.

Dymm gingerly took the notebook and flipped through to Locke's scribbles on the next hit.

"You should start writing your notes in common tongue... this isn't even drow. This is Lockeish," Dymm said, reading the assorted notes in drowish, common, and some pictures, that came in all varieties of size and angle.

Locke sighed and walked around the desk, pointing his finger to a scribble and dragging his gloved finger across the book as if underlining a line.

Dymm read it. "Really now? That is... quite useful. Utopia, eh?" Dymm must've found the slight method to Locke's madness because he followed the trail of notes that pointed to another quickly scribbled word.

"Dragoona? Ahh, yes... I see why you are so happy now," Dymm said, as he took a puff of his cigarette and kicked back in his chair.

Locke stuffed his notebook back in his pack snugly with a grin. "Me and Dragoona go back some, to my last group. We should see if we can't arrange a little meeting."

Dymm nodded with a pleased smile. Locke smirked back, then left to see if he could find the whereabouts of Cove's new drug lord.
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