Gotham: Waterfront

        The main point of business for much of this port city, the
waterfront is a massive stretch of mostly industrial yards and dockside
loading docks. Rust, salt, and fog mingle alongside the dark waters of the
harbor, and row upon row of nearly identical warehouse buildings sit
around the dimly lit piers. The housing in this area is lower class, but
in relatively decent condition compared to the eastern banks of the
central river. The mournful wail of the foghorn and the cries of the
seagull echo out over the streets and loading cranes, accompanied by the
lapping sounds of the murky waters.

The street is dark, except for the pools of light formed by the lamps
overhead. It's silent - far too quiet even for this time of night. There
should be the sounds of cars not too far away, the sounds of trucks even
closer...even the sounds of the night shift loading boats that need to
leave with the tide. But no...all you can hear is the lap of the waves
against the piers, and the sound of wind through the alleys.
        Leaning against the warehouse doors, directly under the light,
Sand Hawkins holds a clipboard and a pen. Occasionally, he'll frown and
make a mark on the paper there; occasionally, he'll glance up out of
paranoid habit. There's a heavy padlock on the doors behind him.

Batman stands on the salt-rusted hulk of an old loading crane, cape
wrapped around him save for a trailing corner that flaps soundlessly by
his feet. A pair of binoculars are in his hand and he peers through the
nightvision lenses into the expanse of the old wharves. Scanning the
buildings and crates that make up the rundown horizon, he continues to
search for suspicious persons. Through the circular gaze he notes the
presence of a man in front of a warehouse. Zooming in, he recognizes the
features of Sanderson Hawkins.

--Batman--
        Standing about 6'2" and having a powerful and imposing build, this
masked figure is clad almost entirely in black and dark gray. His head is
covered by a black cowl that conceals the upper half of his features. A
pair of white eyeslits stare out of the mask with cold intensity, and
there's a pair of ear-like protrusions from the top of the cowl. What you
can make of his face is typically set in a grimly determined fashion, his
jaw squared, his mouth impassive.
        His torso is covered by tight fitting dark gray, with an oval disc
on the middle of his broad chest. The disc is a gold-yellow color, and has
the sharp edged shadow of a bat emblazoned upon it. Around his waist is a
belt of a similar color to the emblem's background, with a series of slim,
modular attachments clasped to it. On his forearms are a pair of black
gauntlets with a trio of spiky protrusions coming from their lower edge.
He has a pair of black, heavy treaded boots pulled up to about mid shin on
botth feet, and each bears a trio of protrusions similar to those on his
gauntlets. Wrapped about him is a heavy leathery black cloak with a
sharply pointed fringe around the base.
        The cowled man has a practiced air of authority and assurance
about him, his motions are precise and fluid in a way that almost belies
the apparent physical power in his frame. Intense and shrouded in shadows
wherever he may be, this is the Batman, mysterious and demi-mythical Dark
Knight Detective.

--Robin--
        Red, green, yellow - and black. The youngster called Robin is
dressed in the bright primary colors of childhood optimism, draped over
with the dark mantle of Gotham City. Three inches over five feet, his
hundred and forty pound frame is slim and athletic - a gymnast's build
with the muscle for getting out of the scrapes in which a young
crimefighter finds himself.
        Robin's face is round, his chin more square these days but not a
jaw. His nose has formed hard edges but he will probably have those boyish
looks well through adulthood. Ghostly opaque eyes are set in his dark
emerald mask. Robin's hair is black, cut in a trendy mop that passes for
locks or spikes depending on how much product he's put in it.
        Robin's costume is a protective molded unitard of scarlet. This
tunic is sleeveless and ends in matching trunks. On the left breast is a
black oval bearing a metallic gold 'R' insignia. Beneath his bodysuit, a
similar material of green covers Robin's legs and upper arms. From his
knees to his feet run black leather boots with a split between the large
and second toes. Robin's hands are sheathed in thick emerald gloves which,
like his short sleeves, contain ribbed pouches. Around his waist is
buckled a gold segmented belt with more compartments.
        A black leather cape with a stiff ring collar flows from Robin's
shoulders, hanging like wings to his mid-calf. The underside is lined in
yellow.
        Black, red, green and yellow. This Robin is cloaked to hunt the
night, but he's still the bright bird of Spring. Even in Gotham City,
robins bring hope.

--Sandy--
	Reasonably tall and pretty badly beat-up, this young blond man
with touseled curls has an easygoing, fairly quiet demeanor. His - Sand's
- eyes are a bright cornflower blue, guarded yet friendly; his right
cheekbone is bruised badly and the eye swollen shut. His nose is straight
and his clean-shaven jaw a bit pointed; his right hand is in a cast, and
he walks with a pronounced limp. The man's build is that of an adventurer,
with powerful shoulders tapering down to a fit waist and stomach; for
those that look more than twice, you can see that for all his apparent
relaxation, he's extremely alert and aware of his surroundings.
	Sanderson's wearing a plain, standard navy blue heavy cotton suit
and a black tie. The suit jacket is unbuttoned, exposing a spotless
button-down shirt and loose black tie; his oxford collar is ironed
straight, but also loose - it looks like the top button isn't even there.
If he turns suddenly, you can see a leather gun harness under his jacket.
On his feet are worn black dress shoes.

Robin is balanced on the incline of the crane's boom, his feet gripping a
bem of it's crossing steel lattice, holding on with his extended left arm.
His body leans toward Batman near The Dark Knight's shoulder, so the two
can talk at eye level. In his right hand, is a tiny pistol like device wih
a miniature dish antannae on it, aimed at the warehouse. The Teen Wonder
has already looked in the binoculars, and is listening to Sand via an
earplug whose cord runs to the pistol grip. "He keeps writing. I can hear
the pen scratch" he says without passing too much air through his vocal
chords, right near Batman's head. He doesn't bother saking why Sand is in
front of the wharehouse they git tips about - Batman will tell him if he
knows himself.

Batman lowers the binoculars, resting them in his grip as he rests his
chin on his hand. "Not doing inventory. Evidently waiting for something or
someone." He folds the binoculars up and returns them to his belt. "Go see
what he's up to."

Switching the clipboard to the other hand and reaching up to scratch his
eyebrow with his cast, Sanderson sighs. He checks the lock on the
warehouse, tugging at it once or twice, then starts to move out of the
light towards his car. It's still silent all around; nothing stirs. Even
the wind seems to have stopped.

Batman moves towards a ladderwell leading down from the crane. "...I'm
going to find a position closer to the ground." He says to Robin as they
split up.

Robin puts away the spy postil and climbs the boom of the crane. "Roger."
Reaching the midpoint he grabs the chain and leans until he gets it
swinging. As the weight of the girder attached to it pendulums the chain,
Robin rides it through the air. He swings to flagpole, and vaults to a
nearby roof. From there its a short hop to the roof of the wharehouse in
question. Robin peers over the edge down at Sand, only his forehead and
eyes portruding, out of the immediate circle of light.

Sanderson leans in the open window of his car - gads, does it even *have*
a back window? - for a few seconds. He uffs softly, wincing as he pulls
himself out, sans clipboard. Yeah. Sans clipboard, but those holsters of
his are packing something now. He walks back to the warehouse doors,
scowling slightly, and leans over the lock. *click* It comes open, and he
takes it off, pocketing it.

There's a very soft hiss, and the light above the warehouse doors goes out
with a pop and a shatter.

Robin pulls his head back in and croaks into his throat mike. "He just
broke in. This makes no sense." He moves a few fett down the roof and
peeks out again. Robin says quietly "He's armed now too."

Advancing through the shadows behind the warehouse, the Dark Knight finds
his way to a rear doorway. As the light goes out and Robin speaks, he says
"I'm going in; back accessway." He produces lockpicks from his utility
belt and snaps open the door, then fades within the warehouse confines.

Scant seconds after the light goes out, there's a...a /whooshing/ from the
alleys and from inside the warehouse; Sandy cries out in surprise and pain
- damn, he's gonna have to get himself some of those Starlite lenses one
of these days - and thuds heavily against the warehouse door, which
promptly slides open. He curses loudly enough for the entire street to
hear. The admittedly not-so-great light from the lamps outside every once
in awhile highlights the swift movement of black-garbed figures.

The Teen Wonder notes the soft patter of a rubber soled shoes across a
rooftop nearby. Someone...two someones...vault onto the roof behind him.
The shadows move fluidly into a landing, then stand. There's a soft mutter
as they communicate on their headset radios. At the moment, neither seem
to see Robin yet.

Two more similarly clad someones reach out of the dark of the wharehouse
in an attempt to pull Sand inside. They too mutter to one another, either
to themselves or in response to the two on the roof.

The Caped Crusader calls upon his training in the Orient to move between
breaths and without shadow. He stalks through the warehouse's interior,
his every sense alert.

Meanwhile, near the back of the Magazzino del Maledetto, a couple more
ninjas are hard at work going over every last goddamn box in the place -
the ones that Sandy had so carefully disarranged earlier that day - to
find their target. They seek with astonishing fervor, and are entirely
unaware of the Dark Knight.

Robin flattens himself along the raised edge of the roof blending into the
shadows. Reaching into his utility belt, he grabs a flash grenade and
throws it at the pair of newcomers. Turning his face toward the ledge both
to look away from the light, and to hide the paleness f his face he says.
"Two unknowns up here. into his throat microphone.

Batman sidesteps out of a row of boxes and looms up behind one of the
shinobi. He stands with his arms concealed beneath the settled folds of
his cape, his body at rest but not quite in a defensive stance yet. "If
you're looking for trouble, you've just found it."

The flash stuns the two ninja, sending sheer green haze and static through
their nightvision goggles. As one falls into a crouch, the other blinded
figure's hand rises and drops towards the rooftop. Robin sees a dozen
spring-loaded caltrops scatter across the ribbed aluminum of the warehouse
roof. As they reach the end of their skittering they all spring into the
air, covering a whole half of the roof with tiny spiked obstacles.

Sanderson slips out of the jacket as his arms are grabbed, immediately
dropping; he crouches. With a pained grunt, he bends forward slightly,
swinging that badass heavy cast at the knees of the ninja to his left - as
he does this, he's ducking out of the immediate reach of the one to his
right.

One of the black-garbed treasure hunters within the warehouse immediately
darts away from Batman, leaving the other to fend him off. The remaining
sneaky mook wordlessly swings his body into action - he aims a high,
mincing kick at the Knight's solar plexus.

The ninja on Sand's is struck one leg but not seriously. He does however
backfip away. The other one swirls Sand's jacket into a whip and snaps it
at the former Golden Boy's face.

Robin chuckles, a purposely theatrical vexing sound that echoes off the
surrounding walls. He extends his staff, and getting into a crouch on the
soles of his feet, clears away the caltrops, aiming as many toard the
ninjas as he can.

With a flair of his cape, Batman's right hand flashes out to deflect the
black garbed assassin's kick off course. He's studied this style. He knows
its moves. He closes and pumps his left fist into a triple jab targeting
the torso of his opponent.

The ninja on the roof respond to the flinging of the caltrops with
retreating backwards over the ledge of the warehouse. They drop off into
the alleyway behind it, disappearing without a seeming trace. Robin thinks
he sees one produce a weapon from his belt as he drops off.

Sanderson moves slowly, compensating for his injuries. Silently he curses
his luck; the man should learn to turn a deaf ear to his dreams. Silently,
too, he completes his motion and ends up directly in the path of the
twirled-up jacket-whip. There's nothing he can do now but literally turn
the other cheek - just so the thing doesn't get him on the already-bruised
half of his face.

As the ninja taking a class in Getting Pulped 101 from Batman wheezes,
getting the wind knocked out of him, his compatriot - aw, don't you love
the buddy system? These guys must've been boy scouts - jumps Batman from
behind, reaching both to encircle his neck and to aim a quick, pointed jab
at his the middle of his side.

The ninja with the jacket prepares to follow through, but his companion
says something to stop him. The pair argue , apaarantely, and the first
one drops the jacket and steps back. The second - the one Sand struck at -
assumes a serpentine stance and motions for Sand to get up. A challenge is
a challenge whether you understand the language or not.

Robin dashes across the roof following his caltrop-free path, only to spot
no sign of fleeing ninjas. "The two here ran. Be careful. They might be
inside,and armed." he says perring down at the alley.

Batman is grappled by the ninja behind him. He puts a hand up behind his
head to parry the jab to his neck, then grasps the attacking hand to try
and fling his attacker overhead into one of the crates of Justice Society
knick-knacks.

Suddenly a figure flips around from under the ridge of the roof as a
concealed ninja attempts to ambush Robin with a arcing foot that follows
his path up and around. The other skulker is still out of view.

Getting cautiously to his feet, Sanderson eyes the ninjae with a look that
positively drips wariness. They're not supposed to do anything honorable,
he thinks to himself. It's probably a trick. Well, tricks are all well and
good, and Sandy's seen enough movies to know what happens next. He gets
into a ready fighting stance, and watches for the first move.

Robin takes it on the chin, literally. The kick sends him twisting away
from the ege of the roof. Putting the edge of his staff down ahaed of him,
the Batman's aide springs into a round-off. Landing on his feet, Robin
adjusts his grip, swinging the weapon around to ready it. "Nice." he
hisses, annoyed that he fell for the vanishing act.

The monkey on Batman's shoulder is taken by surprise. It's clear he'll be
spreading more doubt among the criminal element about the humanity of
Gotham's protector - to move that quickly, to practically know the actions
of the ninja before he acts..! He's thrown helluva far, crashing into a
box of...well, it looks to be mostly, if not all, packing peanuts. The
ninja in front of Batman takes this Kodak moment to lash out again, though
distinctly less enthusiastically: he aims a backhand at the Bat's jaw with
his right, and a jab at the kidney with his left.

Suddenly, there's the jingling of chains from somewhere to Robin's left
flank and he sees that the other ninja has rejoined the fracas. He swings
a kusari gama in a low circle in seeming counterpoint to Robin's staff
display. The one who ambushed Tim gets to his feet with a short hop and
hangs back. The chain weapon's sharp end swings out in a deadly arc for
Robin's side.

The ninja opposing Sand jumps up, kicking out with one foot, and then
pulling it back to kick with the other. his partner circles around to the
side. Yeah, it is a ninja trick because he swings a sidearm chopping
strike across Sand's shoulders .

Batman takes the defensive tack, falling back, hands swiping up and down
to block the ninja's blows. He finds himself running out of room amidst
the crates and displays. As his back touches a crate, he waits for the
ninja's next strike, then ducks under it so the ninja's hand connects with
the crate.

Robin dips one end of the staff to block the deadly prong. He's seen this
too - in Tibet he was made to learn the chain's style even if he wouldn't
use it since it's the natural counterto the staff. For that reason he
spins the end to coil the chain around his staf, and then points it
directly at the ninja. With a slack chain, one can't rip a staff out of
one's opponent's grip' With his free hand, Robin reaches into his utility
belt for a hard rubber ball and tosses it at the ninja's wrist where it
holds the kusari gama.

Okay, Sandy was *watching* this time. He feints right, then dodges left
and *down*, dropping into a wince-filled roll. All in one motion, it
seems, he gets to his feet and draws his wirepoon, firing it at the
overhanging street lamp above. With a quick jerk to the line, he pulls it
so it wraps around the bar, flicks on the recoil, and jumps back so he has
something to give him momentum - momentum that'll guide his evil, evil
boots toward ninja heads.

There's a *THOCK* and the ball rebounds painfully off of the ninja's
joint, forcing him to relinquish the weapon's grip. Even as the chain hits
the roof, though, the other assassin moves on Tim with a vaulting leap,
both hands coming down in an attempt to push down on the staff and pin
Robin down onto the rooftop.

There's also a lovely *KRONCH* as the ninja opposing Batman finds out that
no matter how cool he is, and no matter how fluid he thinks his movements
are, and regardless of how well he thinks he can be a shadow...he still
ain't intangible. The hand drives into the crate like a karate chop into a
cinderblock, embarrassingly getting stuck there. The ninja tugs. And feels
this remarkable sense of impending doom...

Batman brings an elbow down cruelly with a grunt on the trapped forearm of
his opponent, fully intending to break or dislocate the arm. He then turns
with a hand at his utility belt, quickly drawing three bat shaped
shuriken. When he spies the other ninja he flings the trio of blades into
a hissing arc intended to pin the man to one of the crates or walls.

The two ninjas fighting Hawkins must be beginners. As Sand rolls away, the
ambushing ninjs leans into his strike, to get kicked in the head not once
but twice by his partner. As he comes down he turns to see the blonde
adventurers huge soles coming at him. As he gets a faceful of thick
treads, he thinks 'Karma or Comedy? You decide'.

Robin lets go of the staff as the ninja puts his weight on hit. He raises
one knee at the vaulting figure's midsection and drives both hands into
the soft fleshy area on each side of the ninja's collarbone. As he falls
backwards he throws a head butt at his opponents chin. He might land
pinned on the ground, but this guy's gonna feel it too. The Teen Wonder
puts the 'improvide' lesson to the test.

Amazing, what? Precognitive ninjas. Or maybe this one just had common
sense, with that whole doom thing and the Batman. His arm breaks free of
the crate with a sickening crunch; he falls to his knees, hunched over,
cradling it. The other ninja, who'd just begun sneaking back from the
broken box of packing foam, is abruptly introduced to the wall and gets
really attached to it, really fast. Ah, young love.

The ninja tackling Robin takes both blows in full force, unable to defend
after his fully offensive maneuver. He emits a shocked wheeze and slumps
over on top of the Teen Wonder, dazed and out of breath. His comrade
mutters into his radio somewhat concernedly now.

Sanderson flicks the recoil on the 'poon off, letting it go slack, and
allowing him to regain his purchase on the good green Earth. With an
irritated twist and yank, he frees the wire from the streetlight, and
walks over and kicks each of the fallen ninjas in the gut for good meaure.
Best to prevent any possible tricks. Honest.

The Dark Knight moves slowly towards the pinned ninja, his fists clenched
and his jaw set grimly. Bringing his face close to the trapped man's
masked features he speaks in Japanese, his voice low and icy calm. "<Who
sent you to my city?>"

Robin shoves the ninja off and elbows him at the base of the neck as he
stands up. Facing the other one, he drops into the knife-hand-and fist
kung fu stance he started with against Batman during practice. He stares
at the figure with white opaque eyes. Curling his upper lip he shows his
teeth and hisses, flicking his fingers in a come hither gesture. What do
you want? He knows French and Chinese, not the language of Japan.

The remaining ninja tilts his head at Robin, backing away. He then turns
and springs for the nearest rooftop, intent on flight.

The ninja with the close, personal relationship to the warehouse wall
brings his arm around and up, one particular finger prominently on
display; he works his jaw and you hear a crunch like breaking plastic. The
man suddenly goes rigid and doubles up, face contorting. Within seconds,
he's slumped limply against the wall. And if you go to check on the one
with the broken arm? He's collapsed to the floor, dead as well.

Batman stares down at the dead men, his expression showing his disgust. He
walks towards the front of the warehouse, appearing near the front
doorway. "Robin, whats your status?" he mutters into his mask radio.

Robin watches the ninja disappear over the edge of the roof. "Yeah, come
back and call me a bear again!" he yells. Shaking his head, he slaps the
Batcuffs on the unconscious ninja and drags him toward the stairwell. "I'm
on my way down. I'm fine. One's down, the other ran away." It's evident
from the tone of his voice, the young crimefighter is pleased with
himself.

Batman walks towards Sanderson, glancing down at the fallen would-be
thieves on the concrete. He speaks to the erstwhile sidekick as he regards
them curiously. "I take it we both received the same tip?"

Sanderson slowly picks up his jacket, grimacing; he holsters his wirepoon
and glances over at Batman. "That works, sure," he says gruffly, pulling
the jacket on and brushing himself off clumsily. He seems to be waiting
for something. Justification, maybe? A dressing-down?

Robin appears, materializing like a familiar from the Batman's shadow. He
drops the ankle of the unconscious and Batcuffed ninja he toted from the
roof. "So how 'bout you Holmesian types give some exposition to the Teen
Watson? What were these guys after?"

Batman looks towards the door. "...Hawkins; if it wasn't a tip that
brought you here, what did?" The Bat doesn't believe much in happy
coincidence.

Robin thinks . o O (Uh oh. looks like Batman didn't forget we saw Sandy
'let himself in'.)

Sanderson scowls, looking a bit bitter. He gives Robin a glance, and
deflates ever so slightly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He
waves the casted hand around in front of him, leaning back and putting his
other hand in his pocket, "And...there was a really stupid rumor going
around. They were probably looking for the Spear, which is *most*
emphatically not here."

Batman snaps his eyes up to meet Sanderson's. "The Spear of Destiny?"

Sanderson meets Batman's look squarely. "Yes. But as I said, it's not in
circulation."

Batman nods silently, looking back towards Robin for a moment. "One got
away. The other two inside are dead. Cyanide." He rests his hands on his
belt. "Whoever they are they're dedicated and well-trained. North mountain
style ninjitsu with familiarity with modern technology."

Robin says "Two got away, if the one who ran from me on the roof didn't
come back inside. They weren't familiar with magnesium flares until I
showed them one up close."

Batman paces around the unconcious forms for a moment, making a subvocal
radio call to the police.

Not looking particularly impressed, Sandy nods, crossing his arms - left
supporting the right. "I don't know who sent them yet; it could be almost
anyone. Anyone who's done his homework." He grins at Robin. "Did they
appreciate the lesson?"

Robin smirks at Sanderson. "I don't know if 'appreciate' is the right
word. I don't think they'll forget it, though."

Batman glances sidelong at Robin. "We'll leave the cleanup to Gordon. I've
got all I can from the scene at the moment." He draws a grapple gun and
starts to walk towards a side alleyway.

Sanderson hehs, then checks his watch. "Well, that'll be all of the
trouble about these parts for tonight." He pauses, fumbling in his pockets
for a moment, then comes up with a key. "So I'll lock up and take my leave
of you gentlemen."

Robin looks at the key and rolls his eyes. "You could have said it was
your stuff, man, instead of 'That works, sure.'" He sees Batman getting
further away and gets his own line launcher. "Catch you next time, Sand."
he says as he follows Batman into the alley.