The Masque
The fellow is more than happy to talk. Michael has to make a conscious effort of will to stay close enough to the man's horrid breath to hear him over the noise of the other party goers. The thick smell of alcohol is only partially successful at masking what must be serious oral health issues and questionable dietary choices made earlier in the evening. "Well old Red Legs Rogers was the worst of the lot to be sure." Michael had noticed several businesses and shops that use 'Red Legs' in their names or as a sort of logo on their merchandise. He was a noted pirate some 40 years ago that sort of put Mermaid's Rest on the map. He's long since been put to death by the Empire for his crimes. "Bloody Bertha and her bunch got one of my boats." Michael is unfamiliar with her, but the drunk is happy to elaborate. "She's a Sea Hag with a crew of misfits, most of which ain't even human. Her ships have all been sunk now, but she's still out there, they never found her body." He takes a generous drink of his double whiskey and continues. "Don't forget about Halfbreed Robert Worley, he's a mean violent bugger of a half-Ogre who they say eats any children he finds aboard the boats he takes." He calls over one of the staff for a refill and continues on, "this new bunch though their sneaky ones. They don't parade around braggin' like the old days. They just quietly take boats and no one ever hears of them again. The Empire says they've cracked down, but boats still go missing, you just don't hear as much about it."