2.4 KiB
| title | created | updated | public | syndicated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 00026 | Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 | Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 | yes | yes |
00026
Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between Inky's tugging and Jarrod's strong, steady hand, they manage to hoist the wizard to his feet.
With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, follows them shortly after.
The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the bed.
Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.
~
" ... and then the Orc Maiden said: 'That's not my club!'"
The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar and puts a bag of coin down. "Serve drinks until this runs out!" Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a whisper: "I owe a favour to Lucy's Basement for the trouble. Call it in when needed."
Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the wound.
As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. "Shut it! Let's be clear. You've hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, with the understanding that we're dangerous people. There may be 'accidents' on occasion. You've learned something today, and what's more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom."
Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. "We will finish what we have started. We're probably the team with the best chances, I'm sure you'll agree. Are you going to back the winning play here? Either way, your decision won't change our plans. I'm sure you know how to take the win."
Jarrod pats the hobbit's good shoulder in a friendly, but dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern friends.
WHAT DO YOU DO