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<blockquote data-quote="H.M.Gimlord" data-source="post: 5778132" data-attributes="member: 79440">The doors to The Hanged Man swing open yet again, and a drabgonborn enters, walking with a slight limp. Dispite the odd gait, he holds himself with a haughty air, as if he is used to people sanpping to attention when he speaks. The firelight of the tavern common room glistens off of golden, brown scales that might have been red at one time but for harsh exposure to the sun. Likewise, deep, golden eyes sparkle with reflections of the flames. On his brow, above his right eye, is a patch, flipped up so as not to obstruct his view. His clothes are loose fitting, made of canvas. A cutlass dangles from a leather belt around his waist, and the smell of seasalt wafts through the air from his direction.&nbsp;The draconic sea dog walks up to the bar, &quot;I'll have a tankard of rum, if it's not too much trouble.&quot;&nbsp;The bartender, busy polishing a plate with a rag doesn't miss a beat, &quot;Comin' raht up.&quot; he answers, without even looking up from his dish.&nbsp; He places the flatware in the cupboard, uncorks a tiny barrel on the counter behind the bar, and pours a pint .&nbsp;When the bartender turns around, his eyes go wide, &quot;Brastrix! Wah' in blazes ahr yoo doin' here?&quot;&nbsp;The dragonborn seems taken aback, &quot;Blagarm!?&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Aye&quot; the bartender replies, setting the rum down on the bar in front of his old acquaintance, &quot;An' ah nahvar tho't ah'd see the likes o' yoo again. Wha' brings yoo half-way 'roun' th' warld tah Daunton?&quot;&nbsp;&quot;Funny you should ask,&quot; Brastrix leans in over the bar, giving the bartender a critical eye, &quot;I was about to put the same question to you.&quot;&nbsp;Blagarm leans back under the gaze of the old salt, &quot;Ah, well.&quot; He hims and haws uncomfortably, &quot;Ya see....Jahred reckon'd 'e'd crash Yong Hahllmastar's li'l party, and ah go' th'choice o' exile or th'angman's noose.&quot; the bartender rubs his neck with his hands, &quot;Ah chose th'lattar.&quot; &nbsp;Brastrix's face falls, &quot;I'm sorry to hear that. Lars' bunch have saved my skin many times. What became of him.&quot;&nbsp;&quot;'e was convenentli outah town far the raid, an' 'e nevar came back,&quot; Blagarm shrugs, &quot;Nob'dy knows whar 'e wen'. Efil Ah s'pose.&quot; Finding some courage, he leans toward Brastrix, &quot;Nah. Wha' brings yoo 'ere.&quot;&nbsp;Brastrix leans in even furhter over the bar until his face is less than an inch that of the portly bartendar. He cracks a vilainous grin, revealing razor-sharp teeth, through which he hisses a loud whisper, designed more to be dramatic than confidential, &quot;Rhagast!&quot;&nbsp;Blagarm blanchas, &quot;Is 'e 'ere!? When!? Whar!? Why&quot;&nbsp;&quot;That ratbastard boarded my ship and stole my take!&quot; Brastrix throws his arms in the air and rocks back onto the barstool, &quot;He's putting together a fleet to challenge my empire in Malibri,&quot; the dragonborn's frustration is evident as he downs the tankard of rum in a single swig and procedes to pace a rut in the floor right in front of the bar, &quot;I caught one of that seashore scum's lackies in the Crystal Mug, who, after much pursuasion, &quot; he grinds his taloned fist into his palm, &quot;informed me that Rhagast had set his headings in this direction,&quot; at this point a curling smile returns to Brastrix's face, &quot;but he took the Norhten Trade Currents. Sure they're fast enough, but I know a secret that lets me cross the distance in two weeks!&quot; He reaches over and slaps the fat man on the back, &quot;While he's been fighting the waves, I've been strolling the streets waiting for him to put in, which, by my calculations should be tonight!&quot; The dragonbon thumps his skull, &quot;and I am never wrong.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="H.M.Gimlord, post: 5778132, member: 79440"] The doors to The Hanged Man swing open yet again, and a drabgonborn enters, walking with a slight limp. Dispite the odd gait, he holds himself with a haughty air, as if he is used to people sanpping to attention when he speaks. The firelight of the tavern common room glistens off of golden, brown scales that might have been red at one time but for harsh exposure to the sun. Likewise, deep, golden eyes sparkle with reflections of the flames. On his brow, above his right eye, is a patch, flipped up so as not to obstruct his view. His clothes are loose fitting, made of canvas. A cutlass dangles from a leather belt around his waist, and the smell of seasalt wafts through the air from his direction. The draconic sea dog walks up to the bar, [COLOR=purple]"I'll have a tankard of rum, if it's not too much trouble."[/COLOR] The bartender, busy polishing a plate with a rag doesn't miss a beat,[COLOR=yellow] "Comin' raht up."[/COLOR] he answers, without even looking up from his dish. He places the flatware in the cupboard, uncorks a tiny barrel on the counter behind the bar, and pours a pint . When the bartender turns around, his eyes go wide, [COLOR=yellow]"Brastrix! Wah' in blazes ahr yoo doin' here?"[/COLOR] The dragonborn seems taken aback,[COLOR=purple] "Blagarm!?"[/COLOR] [COLOR=yellow]"Aye"[/COLOR] the bartender replies, setting the rum down on the bar in front of his old acquaintance, [COLOR=yellow]"An' ah nahvar tho't ah'd see the likes o' yoo again. Wha' brings yoo half-way 'roun' th' warld tah Daunton?"[/COLOR] [COLOR=purple]"Funny you should ask,"[/COLOR] Brastrix leans in over the bar, giving the bartender a critical eye, [COLOR=purple]"I was about to put the same question to you."[/COLOR] Blagarm leans back under the gaze of the old salt, [COLOR=yellow]"Ah, well."[/COLOR] He hims and haws uncomfortably,[COLOR=yellow] "Ya see....Jahred reckon'd 'e'd crash Yong Hahllmastar's li'l party, and ah go' th'choice o' exile or th'angman's noose."[/COLOR] the bartender rubs his neck with his hands,[COLOR=yellow] "Ah chose th'lattar."[/COLOR] Brastrix's face falls, [COLOR=purple]"I'm sorry to hear that. Lars' bunch have saved my skin many times. What became of him."[/COLOR] [COLOR=yellow]"'e was convenentli outah town far the raid, an' 'e nevar came back,"[/COLOR] Blagarm shrugs, [COLOR=yellow]"Nob'dy knows whar 'e wen'. Efil Ah s'pose." [/COLOR]Finding some courage, he leans toward Brastrix, [COLOR=yellow]"Nah. Wha' brings yoo 'ere."[/COLOR] Brastrix leans in even furhter over the bar until his face is less than an inch that of the portly bartendar. He cracks a vilainous grin, revealing razor-sharp teeth, through which he hisses a loud whisper, designed more to be dramatic than confidential, [COLOR=purple]"Rhagast!"[/COLOR] Blagarm blanchas, [COLOR=yellow]"Is 'e 'ere!? When!? Whar!? Why"[/COLOR] [COLOR=purple]"That ratbastard boarded my ship and stole my take!"[/COLOR] Brastrix throws his arms in the air and rocks back onto the barstool,[COLOR=purple] "He's putting together a fleet to challenge my empire in Malibri,"[/COLOR] the dragonborn's frustration is evident as he downs the tankard of rum in a single swig and procedes to pace a rut in the floor right in front of the bar, [COLOR=purple]"I caught one of that seashore scum's lackies in the Crystal Mug, who, after much pursuasion, "[/COLOR] he grinds his taloned fist into his palm, [COLOR=purple]"informed me that Rhagast had set his headings in this direction,"[/COLOR] at this point a curling smile returns to Brastrix's face, [COLOR=purple]"but he took the Norhten Trade Currents. Sure they're fast enough, but I know a secret that lets me cross the distance in two weeks!"[/COLOR] He reaches over and slaps the fat man on the back, [COLOR=purple]"While he's been fighting the waves, I've been strolling the streets waiting for him to put in, which, by my calculations should be tonight!"[/COLOR] The dragonbon thumps his skull,[COLOR=purple] "and I am never wrong."[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]

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