Sharing a drink. (World's End Grotto)

by **Miles** on January 6th, 2013, 7:23 pm

47th Winter, 512 AV.

The Grotto was hot with tension and the smell of sweaty bodies. Winter had come full on, which mean fire roared in the hearth and drink swelled in the stomachs of the patrons, keeping the drunken patrons beyond warm. Miles sat amidst it all, laughing, shouting, pretending he was no more than a drunken patron himself.

However, a rather perceptive eye could note that Miles (when sipping his ale) spilled more than he actually sipped, by slapping his mug back on the table in a rather beautiful show of fake intoxication. His eyes were too sharp at times to be as drunk as those around him, and his hands were too quick when bumped by an unwary drinker. He slowly but surely had picked about 10 SM from those around him during the enjoyment of gambling, which of course kept him (who knew nothing about the game itself) playing and betting. On the off chance that he won, he immediately funnelled the coin back into the game, making sure to amass no winnings on the table. All his "winnings" were picked from the purses of those walking around him, those standing to watch the game, or those too drunk to realize when they entered his personal space.

He was careful about picking marks- Miles knew that a drunken man was free with coin. He also ensured that he picked just a few coins from each victim, nothing to break a bank, nothing to be noticed in the midst of a good time. A few silver here, one gold there. It was his discretion that set him apart from other thugs in his mind- this was a living, and a sport. He worked the room in spurts, once every thirty minutes or so he'd add a few more coins to his growing purse.

Tensions mounted between two players after a particularly interesting dice roll. Accusations of "cheater" and shaken fists punctuated their argument, which signalled to Miles it may be time to move on. Commotion was the best time to exit, it took the heat off, and often provided cover for more obvious larceny. Miles lay in wait for the right time, eyeing both men over the rim of his drink.

by **Gale Austin McCenry** on February 1st, 2013, 1:57 am

Goodness gracious, what was wrong with him? Why was he always found here? Did he honestly have no other place to be?

It had recently started to dawn on even the hypocrite how pathetic he really was. Gale understood that at times anyone would grab a mug of Kelp Beer just to keep their emotional lives away for a bit. Some would do it for a day and other would do it for possibly even a year if it was serious enough. But how many people did so fairly regularly for nearly a decade? A whole 10 years. Big one zero.

It was understandable that someone might long for their lost loved ones for ten years, sure. He could at least think that wasn't entirely pathetic, but about the first year of drinking all his sorrows away it just proved more and more how many things he actually depended on to prevent him from just falling apart.

For this reason is why Gale had not ordered anything at all from the older lass who works behind the counter, not that he had any money to spare. All his mizas HAD to be saved for the necessities, considering that his freelancing isn't paying much and buying that new shirt left him almost completely empty handed. The only reason he was staying was merely the fact that he'd end up strolling the town and come back here, considering this was one of the few "free days" that Gale has during the seasons. This was also the reason Gale found himself immensely bored and watching the people of the old worn out building gamble and do their thing.

There were few men and occasionally women who had Gale give them a second glance but overall it was very...Boring and uninteresting. Though the artist was never into gambling, he was reduced to watch the game in front of him. That is until two started to argue about who was a cheater. That was why he never played such games.

"Hey, leave the name calling out of it!" He barked at the two bickering gentlemen and placing his hands on the old table that creaked with the movement, as if it was going to do anything. "If you aren't cheating then prove it in the next round." He glared at the them with irritation.

These two were more then likely drunk and his addition to the dispute was only going to make things worse. He was basically trying to put fire out with fire. But if he left it alone it would end up growing into a fight. Gale wouldn't be caught dead in another Kelp Bar fight so if saying something had even the slightest chance to get these guys back to playing he was going to say something! Watching a game is better then wondering the town aimlessly after all.

by **Miles** on February 10th, 2013, 3:41 am

The man's words did not go unheard. The drunkards didn't miss a beat in their game, but one quirked a brow in Gale's direction, slurring "Keep your nose out of it, unless you want it bloody." At least that's what he intended to say, in his head the sentence was clean and cool. What actually came out was more like "Keep...", a drunken pause where the man thought the words but did not speak, and finally, " it bloody!" A grunt of satisfaction accompanied the broken phrase, as if the man settled that easily. Miles nearly laughed aloud.

The second man also turned his attention toward Gale, obscenely gesturing toward the man. Perhaps he was too drunk to speak, or perhaps that was all he thought the artist was worth. Either way, he did not speak a word, just presented obscenity through body language, and turned his attention back toward his target. "Don't have your mother in here taking up for you either Joaim," he gestured toward Gale, "unless she's paying the tab, I don't want to hear her mumble."

Red blossomed on the cheeks of the first man, Joaim. The liquid courage Kelp Beer provides fortified him enough to put an entire thought together: "What did you say about my mother?" He stood as he spoke, knocking his chair over in the process. Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke, a combination of drunken slurring and passionate speech.

In an attempt to quell the fight between the two men, Miles picked up the dice and stated clearly: "I'll go next. Give you two a break. Now who'll bet the house on me?" A few voices clamored fail or pass, and coin jingled Miles' favorite tune. He'd roll a few times, win or lose it wouldn't matter. The fight would be forgotten, and the game would go on. His game.

He nodded a silent thanks to Gale, who might have just been sober. Sober eyes were dangerous ones in a bar, he knew well. Had Gale seen Miles at work? The man couldn't waste time to contemplate. Instead, he dazzled the man with a smile before continuing. "Don't crowd, don't crowd I said!" First roll will be my greatest."

Joaim would not be dissuaded. "Say something else then Rel. Speak on my family again, you'll be doing it out of busted lips." The threat was accompanied by an open stance- a challenge to say the least. Miles stood to exit, it seemed his ploy hadn't worked. New plans unfurled even as he assessed the bar again. He weighed the danger of putting himself between Joaim and Rel, with the reward that could be waiting in their pockets. If Rel stood, Miles would be forced to act.

by **Abstract** on July 2nd, 2013, 8:25 pm

Loot, Lore, and Skills!

Gale :

Miles :

Basically nothing to give. It really was only one post. ...Please PM me if you have any questions, concerns, or comments!

PM to join Sharing a drink. (World's End Grotto)