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OOC:
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Chambers (L5 Seeker|Ranger, Controller) is now back in the tavern, available for an adventure! Here'a a portrait I had someone cobble together to include his sweetass revolving crossbow. Picture him loading various kinds of magical bolts as the situation demands a la Outlaw's protagonist with his magitech gun.
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Chambers kicks the open the Hanged Man's batwing doors, scowling, with his hands raised. While this seems unusual at first, it makes more sense when a pair of city guards prod him further into the tavern with their drawn short swords.
"We've brought him back, Blagram. We'll keep an eye on him if he tries to leave but while he's under your roof he's your responsibility." With that, the pair take their leave.
Chambers takes a seat at the bar, still wearing that look of wounded pride.
"Blagram, three fingers of your Elmer T, neat, to wash away that affront to my dignity, if it please ya," he says, taking stock of the tavern's other patrons. Blagram captures his attention when he slams a massive fist on the counter instead of a glass.
"Not til I get m'cut from this last job, and even then ys get nothing stronger'n ale past the first round, ye great stinkin lout! Don't you forget you're here to pay off your tab from three years ago, when you drank yourself blind, wrecked the place, 'n disappeared into th' woods!" Chambers winces as the tirade breaks over him like a comber at the beach.
"Fine, fine," Chambers replies grouchily. He tosses a small pouch onto the bar, which links softly when it lands. Chambers gives the barkeep a withering glare, and takes his bourbon to an unoccupied table nearby. At his hip he has a long and profoundly odd-looking crossbow hanging in a scabbard, which he draws (the arms of the crossbow unfold as it leaves the sheath) and lays on the table before him as he sits down. With a smooth click the chamber pops out, and Logan removes the four quarrels inside and tucks them away. He throws back his bourbon and unscrews the covering that conceals the trigger mechanism, which he begins cleaning and oiling fastidiously. He wanted to be prepared the next time somebody came by the tavern with work for him.
