|Borgin 'Boom Stick' McCracken
Whistling a little dirty shanty, 'Boomstick' McCraken walked into the Wounded Wisp spinning a small key chain(1) on his finger. With a grin he slid three platinum coins across the bar to the barkeep and pointed to the empty back.
"I'll be needing finger food, snacks, and mugs. This dear little key will open the cabinet I want to use to entertain. I'll take the top five rows, if you can fetch it from the market I would chip in more for a trunk of ice from the vendor." Boomstick said as he wandered over to the back and slid two tables together and sat down from at the small table beside it and pulled things out of his haversack. A nice tablecloth (2) went onto the table. Onto that went a placard.
Tell us your Drendle Dreg Woes! Free Food, courtesy of me. Free Booze, courtesy of DD's cabinet
Still whistling, he sits down and starts cleaning his guns. Starting with his blunderbuss, Delora (3), then his axe-musket 'Baby', the 'twin' pepper boxes 'Thunder' and 'Lightning' and then his small unnamed coat pistols. Cleaning and oiling each in turn and putting them away while sipping away at a delightful elven wine that was properly chilled.
Nearby was a journal, pen and ink to record the stories. Boomstick figured it was time the old fraud's sins come out. He sipped the wine and settled back to wait for others to come in and regale him with tales of late night wake ups, week long trips through hell (4)
(2) The tablecloth looks to be 'procured' from the Grand Lodge itself. Or from Dreg's quarters.
(3) Named after his ex-wife, Delora Hearthguard. Known paladin or 'demon harridan' depending on who you ask.
(4) Termed as :"Quick Pickup", "Fun river trips" and such without highlighting cannibal halfling, demonic apes searing tempuratures and missed Wine Auctions where the reprobate paid to have the proxy big of a certain dwarf 'misplaced'.
take 10 on Perception
A lean, dark-haired man in black robes ornamented with silver enters quietly and bows to the host. "If you will permit it, I will keep my experiences to myself and will not interrupt, but I'd be interested to stay and hear what you may elicit. I feel you misjudge our colleague."
|Ben Goshey Hojoin
A dark haired Chellaxian man in rather mismatched armor approaches the back table. He nods to the Pharasmin and then turns to the man. He clearly wears a holy symbol of Abdar around his neck.
"Excuse me, I was told there was some sort of commiseration of some sort for injustices suffered from-ah, the sign, yes, yes I see this is the place. May I?"
His manner is rather jovial and well-meaning as he takes a seat.
"Well, let's see. My first real issue with Dreng was that he assigned me as a field agent at all. I was supposed to work in the legal department you see . . . I'm a paralegal by trade. But Mr. Dreng 'accidentally' misfiled my papers as a field agent. What's worse I've submitted countless requests to have the issue cleared up, but they never seem to go through. Why, it's just terrible."
"Oh, excuse me, where ARE my manners? My name's Ben. Ben Hojoin."
He reaches out his hand for a friendly handshake.
Double D's that creepy old vampire that always wanders around with a veritable army of pages. I've never seen him during the day and his disheveled look reminds me of a bum after a month long bender of stale ale and shiver.
I dare say he's neck and shoulders better than Fuzzy bear, but at the bottom of the big Z spectrum on good looks. He's not nearly as inshane in the membrane. Yet seems more honest than Big Bird. Im far more trusting in his motives that captain chaos. But he would smell better with a few gallons of old Glory's perfume.
|Borgin 'Boom Stick' McCracken
Ospero's words took on a slightly different meaning to the Caydenite Inquistor as he looked the man over, as he thumped down his mug and glared at him.
"I imagine that you mean 'might I listen dear Marshall, whilst I write down the names of the people drinking the free boozes so I can mention them to my buddy Dredle''. That is as claer and noticeable as my shop!" (1)
Boomstick makes a shooing motion to the Pharasman.
"Go on gift.. I imagine you turn in early so the pages don't wake you in the middle of your rest..(2) He bellowed.
Hojoin's arrival distracts the dwarf and he gestures to a small bottle. "Tanshev's Port, bottled by Adabaran Accountant-Monks in a monetary in Opparra. Bottled only in the off season after taxes." He says with a grin pouring a generous portion. "When they aren't auditing by contract for the crown."
Righty's arrivals and story leave him a bit confused looking. Clearly the gunslinging law officer is replaying it a few times in his head as he mutters what was said to him again and again. "Well! Clearly one of us is too sober for coherence of that.. sooo.." He poured a very big glass of brandy for the new comer. "And there you go.. feel free to tell yer stories."
(1) McCracken's Armaments and Munitions is very noticeable in it's own way. A deeply recessed forge on side, and alchemist's lab on the other with many thick and solid doors between, it has thick granite walls and a very light rooftop. As so most folks who grind their own gunpowder it's beside a small running creek/riverlet (the better to dive/land in whist on fire)
(2) To date none of the pages sent by Drendle have found Boomstick in his beds,. They typically find him in a tavern or more often staggering down some alley singing drinking ditties. They don't mind much, better than some agents (3)
(3) Such as Kyrie Ebonblade, mistress of alchemy, muskets, and drink mixing. The common practice among the pages is to use a croket mallet to knock on her door to avoid the return fire shot at the door. No one wants to disturb a woman who carries a Numerian weapon called "Piecemaker'. Not after seeing the hole that went through one of the towers.
The rum occludes my recollections. However my boy took a turn round some bar a few weeks ago. Ran into the old codger slummin on a "stakeout" first thing Dreng asks him for a bottle...well things happened along the way, but Brandy sent him a bottle an hour.
Good kid, none too bright tho - should have charged the bum...
|Aram bin Kaleel
A tall Qadiran man who's been sitting near the bar notices the sign and raises an eyebrow. He stands and ambles over, bringing his glass of wine with him.
"I take it you have recently experienced the... quirks... of Venture-Captain Dreng?" he begins. "Have you yet seen through his guise, to the man behind the curtain? Do you still take his actions as disrespect, or have you divined the intention behind them?" A slight smile plays on his lips, but it is one of familiarity, not of judgement.