The Saucy Crumpet

[Chris]

This is a loud, raucous tavern whose upper floors have been converted to be an inn. The tavern itself is huge, but there are no private rooms on the perimeters and the patrons crowd together and talk, sing, eat, drink, and dance at very close quarters. Most of the serving wenches are dressed less than modestly, and although this is not a brothel there seems to be an unspoken understanding that the inn above the tavern is rarely used for sleeping. The proprietor, Damien Lachance, is behind the bar serving drinks. He occasionally shouts something at a patron or barks and order at a serving wench.

[Naebler]

(Monday early evening - Before our Gathering on Friday)
OUTSIDE THE CRUMPET

Amongst the dregs of the society who seem to panhandle and go about their business,
Ciaro can be seen in an alleyway across from the door of the Crumpet, sleeping on a couple
of old boxes his hat pulled over his face and arms crossed to keep his coat closed. The gentle
sounds of breathing mixed with a small snore can be heard from his perch. If anyone walks
close his breathing does slow and he goes very still. However he remains where he is and
does not look from under his hat that anyone can see.

[Sornas]

((Warning, my typing of an accent is just as bad as my speaking it XD)

The door to the crumpet opened slowly, a very hard to mistake Highlander face looking out onto the street cautiously.

All of a sudden, Kenneth dashed out the door as stealthily as possible, (A humorous sight, considering his size and appearance) quickly making his way into the alley where Ciaro was resting, and ducking behind one of the larger boxes in the alleyway, peering out around it to keep an eye on the street. "Ah must beh gohin' mad." He mumbled to himself, only appearing slightly drunk at the moment. (Though, over the course of the past month, many who knew Kenneth would have learned that this meant little)

Suddenly noticing Ciaro, Kenneth poked him with his foot from his hiding place. "Oh 'ey, it's 'ou...Ye arn't dead are ya?" He prodded a bit more, "Why does ev'one Ah drink with end up dead? Ah mean comon..."

[Naebler]

Ciaro clears his throat a bit and knocks the tip of his hat up
to look at the large Avalonian with a raised brow.

"Rumors of my demise have been greatly blah blah blah." He
waves his hand as if it is standard fare for him. "You tend to have
your drinking companions die on you? That would be good information
to know after all." He grins a bit and sits up on the box straightening
his clothing.

"How fare you my good man?"